Photo by Mikel Ibarluzea on Unsplash "the answers are in the house"“I don’t even know where to start.” Ronan spoke as he looked about the main hall of Erik’s house before peering into the front room. “Erik’s study. It’s piled to the ceiling with shite, though, but that’s how I know we’ll find what we’re looking for.” Rune breezed past Ronan and down the hall to the last door on the left before the stairs. Ronan followed, noting the mustiness in the air from a house that had been closed off to the world for over half a year. The walls were covered with strange and interesting art, but no pictures of actual people. The house looked like it hadn’t been renovated for years: the wallpaper was peeling, there were far too many cracks in the ceiling, and somewhere there was a water leak because he could smell the mildew in the air. “Ronan, in here.” Rune’s voice emanated from the open door. There was a light on in the room that cast a warm orange glow over everything that was piled up on a weathered desk and lined against the walls at least halfway to the ceiling. The space was crammed with countless books and stacks of papers bound in filing envelopes; it was going to be virtually impossible to sort through everything quickly. “This is a freaking nightmare.” Ronan gasped. Just the thought of having to swim through everything stressed him out. Rune chuckled, “For us, but Erik knew where everything was and there is surprisingly a method to his madness. Piles by the door are astronomy related, the ones by the closet are local and national folklore, archeology under the lamp, and the desk is where he usually kept whatever he was working on at that moment. I don’t know everything, but I paid enough attention to give us a place to start.” Ronan was surprised she knew as much as she did and wondered why it took her so long to finally want to search for answers. “So, where do we start, you think?” Ronan leaned over the desk to see what was laid out. Several books were open and a notebook sat with a pen atop it. “Astronomy? Do we need to look towards his star gazing? Or folklore considering what we’ve encountered, my—whatever it is I’m doing with the runes, the language and the words being used by Vargr…but Erik was obviously scared about us being found out and was explicit about my gran getting rid of the letters. We may be shit out of luck.” Rune’s words ended in discouragement and Ronan noticed it immediately. He already recognized this cycle of doubt that she perpetually spiraled through. “But your gran didn’t get rid of them like he told her to. And I bet with the wording of those letters, that he kept the ones from her too. If this is where he kept everything like you said, they’re in here somewhere.” Ronan pointed out. Rune considered it before replying, “Mm, you’re probably right. Do—do you think that my gran and Erik had a…thing?” “Maybe,” Ronan smiled at the thought of it, “I mean, it seems like they were at least sweet on one another. I bet he kept anything and everything she gave or sent him. Where would he might keep something like that?” “Probably in the safe. Especially, if he was afraid of someone finding them.” Rune got up from the chair behind the desk and began hunting around the room, peering beyond stacks of papers and haphazard mounds of books. She got to the closet and had to yank on the door to move all the books that had been amassed against it. After some grunting and cussing she got the door open, and was almost clobbered with an enormous stack of magazines that toppled off the top shelf. “Dangerous business.” She muttered as she cleared out bundles of newspapers to reveal a sizeable safe, old and rusted. “Holy shit, that’s an old one.” Ronan was right behind her, practically whispering in her ear, causing her to jump. “Erik liked his antiques; always talking about how they ‘don’t make them like they used to’.” Rune scoffed at the thought, but she missed his sort of gruff demeanor about things. “Well, this antique looks like it needs a key and I don’t think you’re going to be able to pick this one.” Ronan pointed out that next to the large iron handle was a covered slot where a key would go. “Of course. Of course, he wouldn’t have one with a dial. So, now we have to find a key.” Rune ducked under Ronan’s arm and went immediately over to the desk. “God, I hope it’s in here.” Ronan muttered to himself. If they didn’t find that key, there was no getting into that safe and he was sure that inside that indestructible iron box was the answers they sought. Rune was rifling through drawers, and dumping them out as she searched for the key, but she turned up empty and then had to reluctantly clean up her mess so as not to make things more difficult for them. “I don’t know where to start. That key could be anywhere and for all we know, it’s on Erik’s—person.” Rune spoke out of defeat. Maybe she was right. No key, no access to what was in the safe. They could try beating it till it crumbled, or let Vargr have a go at it, but they’d have to find a way to get it out of the closet and that seemed almost more dauntless than looking for the key. Rune tried to remember if she had noticed anything at some point in the past, especially because she had been in his study many times before. Maybe there were things he did or said that she would have missed without the knowledge she had now. Erik was a creature of habit, that’s how she knew about the safe and vaguely where it was, as well as his method of organization. But had she ever seen him open the safe? She had to think hard and go back far in her memories, around the time her mental illness really started to take hold. He would have kept the key in here, not on himself in case something happened. He was a bit paranoid, meaning the key wouldn’t necessarily look like a key at first glance; it would be something only he would recognize. But was Erik really afraid of other humans finding out about them, or was he afraid of something else? He mentioned the friend in the letter, saying something about not bringing her and Ronan together lest they be found and—targeted. The key would possibly look like something that would ward anything that wished harm on them… Rune’s eyes fell upon an iron troll cross that hung above the closet door. It was bigger than the ones that were nailed to the fence, but one other difference stood out to her, even from across the room. The bits of hammered metal that curled in under the loop weren’t even: one was curled like the ones on the fence, but the other was squared and notched. “The troll cross above the door.” She breathed, pointing at the wall above the closet. Ronan snapped his head in that direction and immediately hopped up to retrieve it. He didn’t need to wait for Rune because she had made it to the closet before he had even lowered his arm and he handed it to her. As if she knew exactly what to do, she twisted one end of the cross until the pieces separated into a single key. “Brilliant man, I swear.” Ronan shook his head in disbelief. Rune knelt down in front of the safe and inserted the key into the lock, the mechanism groaning as she turned it all the way until it clicked and the door popped open. She took a deep breath before she swung the door wide to see what was inside. It was practically empty. The only thing that was inside was a thick manila envelope and a file folder. Rune pulled them from the safe and looked them over, handing the file folder to Ronan when she noticed the name scrawled on the outside of the envelope. “Nora.” She sighed as she opened it up and pulled out a handful of letters. “That’s it, innit?” Ronan asked. Rune just nodded and slipped the letters back inside the envelope. She handed it to Ronan before she went to shut the door of the safe, but something in the back of the box caught her attention. It was a raised bit in the metal near the seam in the back where the floor of the safe met the wall. Rune reached her hand inside and felt around that spot—it felt like the bottom wasn’t welded to the rest of the safe. “I think this relic has a false bottom.” The excitement in her voice was palpable. She was able to fit her fingers under the raised bit of metal and pulled. The bottom panel wasn’t as heavy as it looked and easily lifted to where Rune could get a better grip on it to pull it away. It revealed a compartment beneath the main part of the safe, maybe only six inches deep, and nestled inside was something covered in a piece of soft, worn leather. She carefully lifted the object from inside the safe and replaced the bottom before locking it. “Well, unwrap it; the anticipation is killing me.” Ronan rocked back and forth on his heels as he urged her. Rune deftly peeled the leather away to reveal a book that was even older than the leather it was wrapped in. Despite its apparent age, it was in extremely good condition, bound in a red leather of its own and adorned with rune stones and a title stamped on the pelt. “Konungsbók.” Rune read the title out loud. “What does that mean?” Ronan asked curiously. “Book of Kings.” She responded, the words feeling strange as her lips formed them. “Like a bible?” “I don’t think so. We should probably take this too.” Rune recovered the book and tucked it under her arm. “You think maybe we should get back? It’ll get dark soon and we don’t want to be caught out like that.” Ronan closed the door to the closet and made sure he had both the envelope and the folder. “Mm, yeah. That’s probably a good idea. Don’t want to worry the wolf either.” She agreed, leading Ronan out of the study, down the hall, and out the front door without any pause. Rune wanted to get back to the bunker so that she could read the letters they found and dig into the secret book that Erik most certainly didn’t want to be found.
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Photo by Evan Dennis on Unsplash "Questions of the unknown" Ronan walked in complete silence next to Vargr and the two were almost to the shed before he finally spoke, “I know we can’t communicate with one another like you and Rune can, but I know you understand me. I can clearly see that you care about her and she seems to trust you, but I don’t really know how I feel about you yet. I’m not trying to start anything with you, I’m just being honest.”
Vargr side-eyed the man and let out a hefty sigh as they stopped their walk in front of Erik’s work shed. Ronan hesitated, not really sure about how he felt opening the door considering what they had seen. Of course, that sight wasn’t there anymore, but he knew that the smell would still be and whatever was—leftover in the cart. The door stood ajar, a gap between only big enough for the Linnormr and a body to get in and out. “This may offend the senses.” Ronan commented as he took a deep breath and slid the door of the shed the rest of the way open. The two were met with the foul stench of death and Vargr immediately gagged and let out a disgruntled howl at the smell. Indeed, the cart was still sitting untouched in the middle of the shed, though it looked as if some things had been displaced when Erik’s body was taken. The hay in the cart was still wet from decay, causing the scent to linger in the air even though the body had been removed. Ronan could see the stacked lumber in the corner, but it was wedged behind the cart and some other equipment and there was no getting to it without moving the offending cart. “Can you move this thing? I need to get to that wood in the back, but I don’t think I can get everything through without moving the cart first.” Ronan asked Vargr, trying not to draw his attention to the large red stain in the middle of the hay pile. Vargr understood and swelled in size again so that he was able to pull the cart with ease. He dragged it out and around the small building where he left it under a naked tree to dry out in the sun. He returned to find Ronan piling the lumber into a wheelbarrow that he had pushed over to the corner. There was already a red metal toolbox nestled under the lumber as well as a big box of long nails. Because Vargr couldn’t offer his help, he instead got to work picking up pieces of lumber till the wheelbarrow was almost too full to push. When the two were finished, Vargr helped Ronan drive the wheelbarrow out into the backyard and up the slight incline towards Rune’s house. They could see her sitting on the porch, Sleipnir by her side as she read a book. “I think we’ve got enough wood to at least build a dog house for Vargr!” Ronan called out as they came to the porch. Vargr snarled at this backhanded joke, but it got Rune to laugh as she came over to the ledge of the porch and peered down at them. She had let her hair down since last they saw her and it hung over the edge of the railing as she leaned on it and propped herself up with her elbow. Her arm was still bound by Ronan’s flannel sleeve, but it was now soaked in blood, fresh rivulets streaming from under the bandage. “Hey, we need to deal with that first before we fix anything else because you’re still bleeding.” Ronan let go of the wheelbarrow as he pointed up at her arm. She shrunk back from the bannister and appeared at the stairs before Ronan could even make it to her. Her arm was held out, the cloth dried and crisp from all the blood. He was honestly surprised that she was even standing with how much blood she had used to make her inscription alone. “I do feel a bit woozy, to be honest.” Rune swayed slightly as she peeled the sticky cloth from her skin. Ronan tried to help her, but she swatted his hand away and finished unwrapping the makeshift bandage. Immediately the blood started to flow again and Rune crumpled to the ground, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Ronan collapsed with her to soften the landing and tried to frantically tighten the flannel tourniquet on her upper arm to slow the blood flow. Out of my way. Vargr thought at Ronan as he shoved past him and growled when the man tried to attend to Rune again. Her injured arm was lying next to her on the ground, wound side up, and before Ronan could stop him, the wolf swiped his tongue across the punctures marks that freckled her forearm. “What the fuck are you doing, wolf?” Ronan bellowed, the sound deep and angry. He didn’t like the fact that the animal had shoved him away from her like he did and the way the wolf guarded her when he tried to assist as if the beast owned her. Vargr turned and growled at Ronan, pawing at the dirt next to Rune’s arm. Ronan looked down and noticed that the saliva that coated her arm was seeping into the deep wounds. No sooner had it filled the holes when the skin started to grow together, the wound healing before his very eyes. The wolf finally moved out of the way as Ronan knelt down to pick Rune up. He checked her pulse, which was steady, and carried her back up to the porch before he laid her on the swing that hung on one side. “You watch her, yeah?” Ronan patted Sleipnir who just snorted and trotted closer to where Rune lay before he too laid on the porch in front of her. Ronan came down off the porch, still agitated by Vargr, but more understanding of why he did what he did…it wasn’t like he could communicate with Ronan any other way. He gathered up the tools that had fallen from the wheelbarrow and grabbed the handles, hoisting it up so that he could direct it towards the front of the property. Vargr just stood there, glaring at him from under his brow. Ronan sighed, knowing he was due for an apology, “I’m—I’m sorry for yelling at you back there. I’m going to have to work on my trust issues because you’ve saved her life several times now when I just stood idly by and did nothing.” Vargr wanted the apology, but not necessarily at the expense of Ronan’s feelings. He was obviously being eaten up by the fact that he hadn’t been able to do much to protect Rune when she needed it, but he had done far more than he realized. The only problem was that Vargr couldn’t tell him that even if he wanted to and there was no Rune at the moment to translate. Instead he let out a yip and wagged his tail to show that there was no real harm done; Ronan seemed to get the picture because he smiled and nudged the wolf with his elbow as he began pushing the wheelbarrow. The two set about the task of repairing the fence, Vargr helping Ronan hold boards of timber as he nailed them in place after he cut them to size. The symbols that hung as protection along the planks were completely mangled now and would do them no good, so Ronan pocketed them and instead pricked his finger with his knife and drew the symbols with his blood on the fence. It took almost three hours to finish the job, with Vargr making frequent trips to the back porch to check on Rune, but when they were finished, it felt like things were safer. Vargr seemed to approve and the two headed back to the porch for some much needed rest and something to eat since the hours of the day had gotten away from them. But when they got to the porch, Rune wasn’t there, and a momentary panic passed from Ronan to Vargr until the back door opened up and she appeared with a tray laden with dense bread, hard cheese, dried meat, and a jar of some sort of jelly. “You have no idea what a balancing act it was for me to carry this the whole way,” She laughed as she set the tray down on the patio table before pulling out two glass bottles of soda and a thermos from the bag she wore over her shoulder. “Are you sure that you should be running around like this? I am more than grateful for the food, but you need some rest.” Ronan asked. Rune just frowned at him before she passed out plates of food and popped the caps on the soda. She produced a bowl from her bag and filled it with water from the thermos for Vargr before she set down a plate for him too. “I’m fine, Ronan. I just need to move around a bit and get the blood circulating again. How did the fence repairs go?” She returned, sitting down to eat. Ronan just nodded and took a bite of his bread, “Good. We made sure that everything was sealed up and airtight; but three of the little protection symbols got destroyed in the chaos. I improvised, but I think we’re good.” Ronan took the iron symbols out of his pocket and set them on the table. He used his own blood to draw the Troll Crosses on the fence. Vargr tattled on Ronan and Rune glanced over at the wolf. “Troll Crosses. Is that what they’re called?” She queried, setting down her bottle. Yes, trollkors. It’s used as a way to ward off malevolent spirits. Did you not place them on the fence? Ronan using his own blood to draw the symbols didn’t seem to upset Rune; she was more interested in what the symbols were, as no one had ever mentioned it to her before and, come to think of it, actively steered the conversation away from anything like that if she ever brought it up. Even Erik, who loved to share his knowledge of the stars and the folklore of the land, was fairly skittish about certain things and quick to change the subject if it came up in conversation. “No. That was gran and Erik.” Rune grimaced at the thought of the two of them. “Is he talking about these?” Ronan pointed at the mangled troll crosses on the table. “Yes; troll crosses. He thought I put them up.” Rune explained. Ronan noticed the look on her face as she spoke. Something was nagging at her, but he couldn’t say what. He didn’t want to just sit there staring at her and, since he couldn’t figure it out nor read her mind like Vargr, he just asked her. “What’s eating at you, Rune?” She looked at him blankly for a second before she replied, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know they were troll crosses even though I saw them practically every day of my life. You know why? Because anytime I asked about things like that, tiny things that I noticed, gran would change the subject like I never asked anything at all. And it wasn’t just her; Erik did it to me too. They deliberately kept things from me and now that I partially know why, I need to know the rest. There are all these potentially scattered pieces of the puzzle and we have to put them together.” Ronan was surprised she said so much and replied, “But there are still missing pieces and I swear to you, they’re in Erik’s house somewhere. Your grandmother seemed to put what was most important to her in that lock box, but I have a feeling that Erik wouldn’t trust a bank like that. There has to be answers in his house.” “You’re not wrong. I know for a fact that Erik kept all his important things at home in a safe; I heard him mention it a few times when talking to gran. There are just bits and pieces of things I remember and now I see they were red flags that something was up that I wasn’t privy to.” Rune finished her food and dusted her fingers off before she stood up. “Where are you going?” Ronan finished off his soda and mimicked her with the standing. “We,” She gestured between the two of them, “are going to Erik’s house to get some answers.” "What did you get into last night?” Rogue asked, sitting across from Harlow at the lunch table. Niridia had just taken a seat herself and joined the conversation.
“Some star gazing and eventually sleep.” Harlow bit the inside of her cheek after she replied. “Uh huh. Is that why I heard you climbing the back stairs at almost four in the morning?” Rogue shot up a questioning brow. Harlow made a face that expressed she knew she’d been caught, so she didn’t try to deny it, “I went for a walk.” Well, almost didn’t try to deny it. “Is that why your dirty laundry smells of fresh blood? And your face! Did you even take a look in the mirror before you came down to eat?” Rogue practically stood from the bench she was perched on but Niridia calmed her down. Harlow’s hand shot to her face where she could feel the skin starting to bruise. She hadn’t made it out of her scuffle without a few dings and scratches. “I went for a walk and got into a couple fights, but I’m fine. Clearly, I was the victor.” Harlow boasted, but now wasn’t the time to brag. “Ya’ gonna get yourself killed, Harley. There’s a reason we don’t go out alone like that and without telling anyone! Are we going to have to revoke your key privileges? Because I know you won’t leave unless you can lock a door behind you.” Niridia chastised her. “Really? You’re not taking my key, ok? Technically I went looking for trouble because I needed to blow off steam. I knew what I was doing and I had protection. I just kept thinking about all these feral New Borns and when I saw this vampire couple just strolling down the street, I followed them and a series of events caused me to get a little banged up, but I’m fine.” Harlow let herself be a little more honest. Rogue heaved a heavy sigh, “I mean, you’ve always been a bit impulsive so I don’t know what I expected. At least let someone know next time? Leave a note or something so we know where to find your body later.” Harlow gave an amused grin and rolled her eyes, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure to draw up a will too, just in case.” “Good,” Niridia chimed in, “Because I already have a lot of shit to do around here and I don’t need to be worrying about where you are. We’ve come too far to lose you to some stupid impulse. Do better.” “Yes, yes, ok! I’ll do better; I promise. I got carried away and forgot that I’m an adult with responsibilities in a post human-run world. I know the rules and all that, I just made a mistake. Can we move on? What happened with the party last night?” Harlow changed the subject. “Nothing. We sent out a scout, but something had gotten to our supplies before we had a chance to retrieve them. Looks like vampire because things weren’t taken, they were destroyed and scattered all over.” Rogue seemed more than mildly displeased as she stood with her plate and the others followed her to the kitchen. “Fuck. We really needed that stuff and there was so much of it. We’re going to have to widen our scope. How about Shane and Robin? Did they make a decision about burial?” Harlow needed them to fill her in on things she may have missed while she overslept. Niridia made a weird face as she glanced at Rogue, “Well, the morning meeting decided that we just burn the bodies or bury them elsewhere. No risk of anything.” “What? Not bury them here within the church’s graveyard? They’re dead…like, dead dead. There’s no coming back for them—besides, it would make more sense to bury them on consecrated ground to really risk nothing.” Harlow didn’t like this decision. Rogue cleared her throat before she took over the conversation, “Yeah, but that’s one of the biggest issues. A lot of these people are devoutly religious, Harlow; you know that. Vampires are an abomination and do not deserve to be buried in hallowed soil.” Harlow made an exasperated sound as she started to scrub dishes in the sink, “I don’t care what they are. Enjoy your faith, but not at the expense of others. We know what happened, or at least we think we do. Shane had no choice; he didn’t ask for this. Sure, it happened because he was being stupid, but he didn’t automatically become a bad person when he transformed.” “But they kind of do, love. They become someone else, something else, and especially now with how crazy everything has become with these crazy New Borns stalking around.” Niridia had a solid point. “Wait, Shane gets cremated then because he was a vampire, but Robin was a victim. Why can’t he be buried here?” Harlow tried to fight the result, if even for just one of them. “Because,” Rogue started, “It looks like Robin too had been turned, but I don’t think Shane gave him a chance. We had Lark examine the body and it was practically devoid of blood. Looks like Robin did fight back, but he wasn’t strong enough.” Harlow hadn’t known any of this. “So, we tell the congregation these details, but not that I was the one to kill Shane because you didn’t want to rile everyone up with how devastating the outcome could be in this weather? How many people voted to not let them be buried here?” Harlow was angry as she clanged plates together, accidentally breaking one in her agitation. “Among thirty two of us, not including children, it was seventeen to fifteen against letting them be buried here. They were the first of us to be actually turned and this just hasn’t come up before.” Niridia gave her the news. “See? A close vote, meaning we are a house divided and this could potentially cause a lot of problems for us. I need to tell them. I just need to tell them that it was me who killed Shane, explain my reasoning why, and ask them to reconsider their burial, especially due to the circumstances. They may have been idiots in some regards, but they were our friends and I don’t know if souls exist, but they deserve to be blessed and consecrated more than anyone.” Harlow defended them, letting Rogue take over dish duty because she wasn’t doing much but smudging the plates. “You’re pretty much in charge, Harlow, and can do whatever you want. Call an evening meeting after Golden Hour and do what you need to do. We’ll back you the whole way.” Niridia was on board. “What she said. You’re right; we do have a house divided and we need it to sway in the favor of the people as a whole and not with some religious reason. Call a meeting; we’ll vouch for you.” Rogue agreed. “Alright. I’ll call a meeting and we will get this settled. Meanwhile, I’m going to make myself useful and go take inventory before the Golden Hour run.” Harlow dried her hands of dishwater as she spoke. “Who you partnered with tonight?” Niridia asked, concern already clear on her face. “I don’t know, but I’m fine. Stop worrying about me and worry about your duties before I run off out of spite.” Harlow joked and the other two just sighed as she sidled off to the basement to check their reserves. (*) They had more food than they thought. Harlow found eight extra bags of roughly milled flour, five boxes filled with jars of dried beans, a stock pile of seeds for the spring, and sealed jars of hog’s lard. But they still needed more staples, and a water run, if they were going to make it through the icy cold winter into the spring…if there was a spring at all. When she got ready for the run at twilight, she discovered that they were an odd number and instead of creating a party of three, she insisted she go on alone and would find them if she discovered anything of use. Everyone went their separate ways and Harlow headed out a few streets down from her last run and continued to look through the cellars and pantries of some of the richer houses on the block. She was able to find a fully stocked cellar in one that also had a pantry full of canned goods, bags of rice, and more flour. If it came down to it, they had enough flour to uncomfortably live on hardtack. As she was coming out of the house and heading down the street to take the back way to the church, a shadowed figure in a nearby alley caught her attention, causing her to palm the stake at her waist. It scurried off when it seemed to notice that she had seen it, but she kept on her guard, wondering if it was following her. Harlow kept a steady pace for a few more blocks before she noticed something moving to her right on top of an awning to a butcher shop. Something was indeed following her and she had to be prepared for a strike. Now she was seeing it every so often on either side of her, wondering if that meant there were more of them, so she casually picked up the pace, pulling her stake free from her belt. An attack was eminent and now she was having second thoughts about going at it alone. She was coming close to her turn, though, and she wondered if she could sneak into it and hide on the fire escape till things passed by. But a figure appeared in the middle of the darkening road in front of her before she had a chance to make a decision. “You.” Harlow rumbled. “Hallo to you too.” Grimm replied, watching Harlow take an immediate defensive stance, showing that she had a weapon and would defend herself. “What do you want?” Harlow held the stake up as she demanded an answer. “I told you that it wasn’t safe for you out here. You’re lucky it was just me that saw you enter that house. You did a pretty good job of staying low, but you have a very distinct scent that lingers on you and I just happened to notice it passing by.” Grimm took a few steps forward and Harlow’s body tensed up. “What scent? Maybe I need to bathe more or something.” Harlow muttered, lifting her arm to take a sniff. Grimm chuckled in amusement, “No, no. You don’t stink. Of all the humans I’ve met here lately, you’re by far the best smelling. You, yourself, have a unique scent, though; all humans do. Vampires can sense them and use it almost like a name, an identifier for certain people. We don’t just kill everything, but there are certain individuals we are fond of feeding on and that’s how we find them. Most are a mixture of musk and what they eat, with a specific spice of individual pheromone. You’re very warm, floral, rich and deep like the best resins from the Middle East. But there is this note…this undertone in your scent that—that frightens me. I can’t describe it really, but I can say that it’s dark like the ripest plum and alluring like bare skin beaded with sweat brought on by passion, the smell of arousal, and bliss of a peaceful death. Yet…you know that if you follow it, it will be your end. That scent, that perfumed aroma of sweet release is violently deadly and should not be approached.” Grimm was virtually poetic with his words as he took a few more steps towards Harlow. “That was a lovely piece, but I need to be going now. I have places to be and mouths to feed.” Harlow was less than polite. “And vampires to frustrate.” Grimm was closing the gap between them and was mere feet from Harlow and she hadn’t even noticed. “Are you stalking me, blood drinker? Because it won’t end well for you.” Harlow threatened him. “Just following you to my death.” Grimm smiled, running his finger down the length of the stake that Harlow had gripped tightly in her hand. “I don’t need you becoming a problem for me.” Harlow was bold as she brushed past the vampire and walked beyond her turn; she was going to have to take a different way. “Sadly, you’re already a problem for a lot of us.” Grimm didn’t choose his words carefully and had Harlow on him, the stake pressed to his sternum. “I will stake you where you stand, vampire. I’m not afraid of you or any of your friends. I don’t care how long they’ve been alive or how powerful they are; I’m not fucking afraid.” Harlow was mere inches from Grimm as she jabbed him softly with her stake. “I know you’re not and it makes me want to follow you even more. Just heed what I said, love, and take your ass back home. It’s not safe for you out here, even more so for you over the others. Get home and stay inside; send someone else out to find supplies.” Grim wrapped up this interaction and was gone in a plume of black smoke. And Harlow was alone again on the street. By this point she had missed her turn by many streets and was in an area that they didn’t usually frequent. It was a place that was generally infested by vampires and agitated New Borns, but for some reason it was empty and dead ahead was a general store that she remembered carried some of her favorite sweets and other useful nonsense. She wondered if it had been stripped bare yet. Instead of turning around to go back to St. Andrews, Harlow rushed towards the general store to potentially stock up on some niceties. It was empty, as far as breathing things go, but it looked like no one had been in the place since the sun disappeared. There was a whole stock of cigarettes behind the counter, rows of candies and packaged baked goods, soda pop on the shelves, dried meats; it was virtually untouched and just waiting for her. Harlow rifled behind the counter and found a stack of paper bags before she began stuffing it with all the snacks she could. She even found the pharmacy section and stocked up on medicines and first aid supplies. Harlow got down on the floor between aisles while she stuffed paper bags full and hadn’t heard that someone else had entered the store, just as quietly as she had done herself. It wasn’t till she popped up over a shelf, a bottle of cough medicine in hand, that she saw she had a shopping companion. It was a man, armed with a gun and a knapsack. He saw her and immediately aimed his gun in her direction, narrowing his eyes at her in the dark. “D—don’t shoot. I’m armed, but not against humans.” Harlow stuffed the medicine in her blouse and raised her hands up to show she wasn’t holding anything. “Carefully come round those shelves so I can see you.” The man finally demanded in a fairly heavy French accent. Harlow did as she was told, keeping her hands up as she rounded the shelf and came to stand in front of the register. “I’m just looking for supplies; no need to shoot me.” Harlow wasn’t sure the mental state of this man, but decided to keep it calm and cool. “I don’t want any trouble. Just doing the same.” He finally replied in a husky tone. “Good. Can I put my hands down then?” Harlow asked curiously. “Oh, yes. Your hands. Why don’t we—eh, why don’t we leave our weapons here on the counter as a sign of peace and get our shopping done without incident.” He made a suggestion that Harlow thought was agreeable. Harlow nodded silently and began to pull stakes from her belt and harness, her dagger, and even her silver chain; anything that she could potentially hurt someone with. The man did the same with his rifle, two side arms, and one whittled down chair leg. The two then went about with their shopping, Harlow going back to the pharmacy to get more medicine, but not hog everything. Then she got to thinking and there went her mouth, “You know, bullets don’t do much to them besides piss ‘em off.” “Oui,” The man agreed out of sight, “But not when those bullets are tipped in silver etched with a cross. I try to use them sparingly and thankfully we haven’t had to use much ammunition here lately.” Harlow hadn’t been expecting that as his answer. They hadn’t run into many outsiders on runs in a long time and those they came across weren’t usually fully informed about what had transpired within the world. This man seemed to be at least somewhat educated on their enemy’s vulnerabilities. “Smart. You make your own ammunition, I assume?” Harlow carried on. “Only when we can find the silver to melt down. Like your chain; where’d you get a silver chain that long?” He asked as Harlow came to check out the shelves nearest to where he was gathering supplies. “It’s multiple chains that I soldered together and then coated in silver. I raided a jewelry store not far from here and found most of the silver there.” Harlow explained, grabbing a few more chocolate bars off a nearby shelf. “Nothing like that in the east end; I may have to come up here and raid that store.” The man finally glanced over at Harlow as he stuffed his bag. She couldn’t see in the dark, but he appeared to be worn and dirty, exhausted from traveling. Harlow felt sorry for him and without thinking started to talk, “You live alone over there?” “Not alone. There are about ten of us; no children, but a few elderly. We’ve been hiding out in a bank the last couple months because it seems safer than where we were, but a lot of supplies in that area were picked clean early on. I made a solitary run to see what I could discover further out; we don’t really leave the safety of the bank much at this point due to the plague of psychopaths that are now running around the city.” He further divulged about himself. “We call them New Borns; freshly transformed. But this new batch we’ve encountered lately is much different and somehow more dangerous than the others. Two of my men were transformed a few nights ago and it wasn’t pretty. Things are rough right now, I understand.” She rambled, finding an urge to get to know this stranger. “In the beginning there were about twenty of us, but we dwindled down to as low as six at one point with how easy it is to get picked off if you aren’t prepared. Most of my people are too old, injured, or inept to fight so it was hard to keep people alive. That’s why we settled as best we could and no one leaves the safety of home. I make runs for food and supplies at least twice a week, sometimes with the help of one other who could at least shoot a gun if need be. Now winter is here and we aren’t close to ready for it. I worry we might lose some to the cold.” The man apparently felt comfortable talking to Harlow as he was blunt about his fears for the colder months. And Harlow in good conscious couldn’t let anyone die over the winter when they had an even safer space for them. “Why don’t you come stay with us? We have the room and the supplies. Just getting a few things here before I find the others out here with me so we can take provisions back from another location. There are only ten of you so I assume my friends wouldn’t mind adding a few more to our numbers. We try and take in people when we can.” Harlow extended the invitation. The man hesitated, still stuffing his bag with snacks as he eyed her. He appeared wary, but she didn’t blame him. “Would you mind if I came to check it out first before we make that decision? I appreciate the hospitality, but I am hesitant for reasons I am sure you understand.” He asked. “Of course you can. How about tomorrow night? That will give me a chance to talk with everyone on my end and you to discuss things on yours. The general store is about midway between the east end and the church we live in, so I’ll come leave a note here on the counter tomorrow morning’s Golden Hour letting you know the answer and giving you instructions to the church.” Harlow was sort of excited about the prospect of new people coming to stay with them, even if it was a heftier task than what they had planned for the winter. “Sounds like a good plan. I will leave the east end around the start of the evening light and check the correspondence. That’ll give me enough time to get back home if the answer is no.” The man finished packing his bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Then it’s set. We should be going now, however, because the Golden Hour has been over for at least forty-five minutes making it more dangerous for you and likely that I will be in trouble for not regrouping with the others. It was nice to meet you, eh—” Harlow had never gotten his name. “They call me Remy. And you are?” He finally gave his name and waited for Harlow’s in return. “Harlow. Hopefully, we will see each other tomorrow, Remy.” Harlow bid him goodnight before reaching into her bag and tossing him a handful of medicine just in case she didn’t see him again. Before he could really say anything, Harlow was off and rushing to regroup with the others. "The Wolf bearers" When Ronan opened his eyes, he was met with a cascade of thick, wavy hair that lay over his chest. Rune was still cradled in the crook of his arm, her leg thrown over his as she tried to keep herself on the sofa. He had no idea what time it was, but he felt like he had at least gotten some restful sleep. There had been no nightmares from Rune, her only movement in sleep to adjust herself on the too small sofa. Either way, they were going to have to get up and check on the horse before deciding what to do with their day.
“Rune. Ruuuune—we gotta wake up. I have no idea what time it is, but we should probably check on Sleipnir.” Ronan gently tried to rouse her. She protested at first, pushing his face with her hand as she held on tight to his arm with the other. He laughed at her, grabbing her around the waist so that he could sit her upright. All the while, she grumbled and groaned, clearly not ready to get up yet. “I was having the best dream, though.” She spoke softly, yawning as she piled all her hair on top of her head and secured it with a hair band. “I’m sorry, love. I figured maybe we should get up and decide what we want to do for the day.” Ronan went on as he pulled on his boots and put his jacket on. “Do we really have to do anything? We’ve done so much already.” Rune whined. She didn’t want to be a pest, but she really didn’t want to do anything even more. Ronan could tell by the look on her face that she really wasn’t up for adventure, but they couldn’t take a break just yet; Sleipnir wasn’t the only thing they needed to check on. “We also need to look for the break in the fence and see if we can fix it somehow. We don’t want anything else getting onto the property, even if it is separate from ours.” Ronan replied, knowing that she was going to be irritated, but she wouldn’t disagree. She groaned, throwing her head between her legs as she made little agitated noises. This elicited a giggle from Ronan as she lifted her head and scowled at him. “You don’t have to say it; I’m aware of what a brat I’m being right now. Just let me huff and puff and get over it.” Rune stood to her feet and wandered off down the hall, returning with a change of clothes on and an armful of more clothing. She handed Ronan the clothes and went to put her boots on. Ronan held them out and looked at them; they must have been Erik’s, but at least they were clean. They looked to be about his size, but not something that an older man would wear and he wondered where they came from. “These Erik’s?” Ronan asked as he took his shirt off and put on the new one. “Nope, mine. I knew Erik had some things tucked away back there, but besides the brand new packages of underwear and socks, most of it was a little…dated. But, I have treated myself to more than a few shopping sprees in town and got an array of things from the women’s and men’s section. I hope you don’t mind sharing clothing…we could always go out and find you some new things, though.” Rune felt a little self-conscious; an unnecessary anxious feeling. Ronan started, “These are fine. I guess I just didn’t think about you wearing—” “Men’s clothes. Is that weird to you?” Rune asked. She had always worried what people thought about the way she presented herself. She had always considered herself a sort of “tom-boy” as her gran put it, but it was more than that; she just wasn’t sure how to express it. “Not at all. People may gender clothing, but that shouldn’t restrict you from dressing how you want and feeling comfortable in your own skin. The clothing doesn’t identify who you are because someone decided to gender it. Men used to wear makeup, powdered wigs, and high heels, you know.” Ronan winked at her as he buttoned up the flannel shirt she had given him. Those were just the right words to ease her mind and she stood from the couch before Ronan had finished tying his shoes. She didn’t want to spend all day out in the open and thought it better to just go and get it done since there was no way around it. Rune thought it best to check on Sleipnir first before they went looking for the break in the barrier. She really should have checked on him the night before after what they had seen on the surveillance cameras, but there was no way Ronan would have let her and it was safer to stay inside. “Hello, monsieur.” Rune greeted the horse, patting him on the flank. The horse nudged Rune with his nose as he stood with his head outside the makeshift stables. “I’m sure you’re hungry for something more than cold grass, so I brought you the last bag of oats that I have for a treat.” Rune spoke to the horse as she poured some of the oats into an empty bucket. Ronan had finally caught up with her and was now turning the hose on to fill the trough with water. “We’re going to have to start using the pump soon; the hoses freeze when it starts to get this cold.” Rune commented, stroking the side of the horse. “I figured. We’re going to have to find a better way to insulate this place for him too, don’t you think?” Ronan asked as the water reached the desired level and he went to cut the hose off. “He should be just fine; the horses here are used to the cold. Did you notice how fluffy his coat is getting? With the coat and a little hay, he won’t even notice that the temperature changed.” Rune assured him. She had turned away from Sleipnir as she spoke, but got quite the surprise when the horse nudged her rather hard in the back with his nose. Rune went to turn and scold him, but he nudged Rune even harder, pushing her out into the yard. She stumbled, but caught herself before she fell. “Sleipnir! What the hell has gotten into you?” Rune hollered, throwing her arms up in the air out of irritation. The horse nudged her again and started to whinny, stomping his feet in the dirt. Sleipnir started to circle Rune, shaking his head as he clopped closer to the front of the house. “I think he wants you to follow him.” Ronan pointed out. Indeed, the horse was getting more agitated the longer that Rune ignored his frantic pushing. She finally obliged and the horse made a move that suggested that he wanted Rune to climb on his back. Was whatever he wanted to show her far? Rune turned to Ronan and shrugged as she went over to the carport and grabbed the bit and reins just in case. Ronan helped her mount the giant horse and placed the bit in his mouth before he handed the reins over to Rune. Before she even had a chance to urge the horse forward, it took off so quickly she almost toppled off the animal’s back. “Whoa! Whoooa, Sleipnir, WHOA!” Rune hollered as the horse galloped across her front lawn and headed down the hill towards the fence that separated her yard and Erik’s. Ronan was yelling her name somewhere far behind her, but she didn’t dare turn to look for him. Sleipnir hadn’t slowed a bit and no amount of prodding or heel-digging would get him to slow and they were coming dangerously close to the fence without any sign of stopping. “Sleipnir!” Rune screamed, “Stop! Please!” He just wouldn’t listen. They were going to crash right into the fence and Rune contemplated on whether or not to try and bail out, but she couldn’t let the horse practically kill himself by running headlong into the fence. But that’s not what happened at all. The horse took a flying leap and before she knew it, the two were sailing over the fence, landing so hard on the other side that it caused Rune to bite down on her tongue. The two skidded to a halt before Sleipnir clopped right up in front of a large felled tree. From the looks of the size, it had fallen from the other side of the street and crashed straight through the meeting point where the fences connected between properties. “Rune! Jaysus Christ, I thought he was going to kill you both.” Ronan had finally caught up and was now vaulting over the fence to meet her. “Honestly, I did too,” Rune sighed out of relief and let Ronan help her down from the horse, “But he knew something we didn’t.” She gestured at the tree that had clearly broken the barrier she made sure was airtight…or so she thought. “Fuck. When the hell did that happen?” Ronan went to examine the tree where it crushed the old wooden fence. “It had to have been while we were sleeping before—before Vargr showed up.” Rune’s mind wandered back to the wolf and where he had gone after he left the bunker. “And he didn’t bother to mention anything? He had to have come up that road and seen this.” Ronan doubted that the wolf could have missed something that now blocked the whole road that led back into the forest. “Maybe he thought nothing of it.” Rune tried to defend him even though they weren’t exactly on…thinking terms. Ronan snorted as he leaned out over the fence to peer across the street, “You don’t think he would have smelled that something was off?” He pointed to the other side of the street and Rune followed with her eyes as she climbed up on the fence next to him. The tree hadn’t fallen on its own, it hadn’t been struck by lightning…it had been chewed till the base of the trunk splintered and caused the tree to crash to the ground. She couldn’t believe that they didn’t feel that in the bunker. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t come this way, who knows.” Rune tried to think of an alternative for him, “You—you think he did this?” “I don’t know. I still kinda think that he caused the other one to fall.” Ronan was obviously wary of the gigantic wolf. “He said it was the Linnormr. We don’t know how long he was around here. He may have patrolled around, following my scent through town. If they followed him, they could have knocked the tree over while he wasn’t anywhere near here.” Rune just didn’t want to believe that the wolf was their enemy. “Maybe. But it’s all awfully convenient.” Ronan was now crouched down on the ground, examining the damage to the fence, “And I don’t know how we are going to fix this; there’s no way we can move this tree, just the two of us.” He was probably right, at least about moving the tree and Rune was ready to admit at least that much. “You’re right on that,” Rune scaled the fallen trunk and started to walk across it like a bridge, “But we’ve got to think of something. The tree has to be moved somehow so we can repair the fence.” Ronan stood as she passed above him and walked out over the street before he replied, “Right. It literally broke through right in the middle.” She continued to walk out on the trunk of the tree till she was in the middle of the road, looking one way and then the other before she cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a sharp yell. “Vargr!” Rune didn’t want to make too much noise, just in case, but she wanted to know that the wolf was alright, especially after what happened the night before. Ronan was leaned out over the fence, keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary as she continued her walk. There wasn’t a peep from anything, so Rune figured she would try one more time; if he was out there, they were probably going to need his help. “Vargr!” She cried out once more. There was a moment of complete silence; not a rustle in the autumn leaves or even a peep from Sleipnir or Ronan. As if the sound rushed in all at once, there was snarling and barking as a humongous black creature lunged at Rune, gripping her body in its jaws as it tore her from the trunk of the tree and flung the two of them into the yard. It hadn’t registered to her what was going on, but her instincts told her to fight and she picked up a branch that had snapped from the fallen tree and swung at the beast. She managed to connect with its eye and the sudden sharp pain caused it to release her from its jaws, though it hadn’t been holding her tight enough to actually cause any damage in the first place. Rune was about to take another swing once she righted herself, but before she could ready her makeshift bat, she heard a voice that stalled her in place. Rune, enough. We need to get you to safety. “Vargr?” Rune’s heart had stopped pounding long enough for her vision to settle on the wolf that was standing in front of her, one eye closed. Yes. Go. You need to find a place to hide. Rune finally turned to Ronan who had Sleipnir by the reins and was standing with his back flat against the fence. He looked utterly bewildered as he glanced back and forth between Vargr and herself. “Vargr says we need to hide.” Rune uttered, finally dropping the branch that was in her hand. Ronan ambled towards her with the horse in tow, still looking addled as he asked, “Hide where? What’s going on?” Vargs. Get yourselves in the bunker; I’ll stay back and protect the horse. “Vargs? Wolves?” Rune’s eyes widened with the word as her eyes flitted to Ronan. Not just any wolves—Úlfberi. You’re wasting your time! Go now! Rune had no idea what Vargr was talking about and Ronan surely didn’t either, but there was no way she was leaving Sleipnir out here for only Vargr to protect. Who knows how many of these Úlfberi there were and if he could even stop them from killing Sleipnir or himself. “I’m not leaving Sleipnir. We all find a place to hide together; you included.” Rune pointed at Vargr before she motioned for Ronan to follow. And how are you going to manage that? “We’ll figure it out.” Rune replied to the wolf before she turned to Ronan, “We need to find a place big enough for all of us to hide. Vargr said there are vargs, wolves, nearby, but I don’t know exactly what he means.” The four headed between the two houses, hopping the fence back into Rune’s yard as they raced around the back of the house. There was no way they would all fit in her grandmother’s garden shed, she wasn’t going into Erik’s work shed, and even if they could fit in either, what was to stop something from getting in if it really wanted to? They could just keep running and hop the back fence into the pasture, but Rune caught sight of the back porch instead; there was plenty of space for the four of them. The porch? They’ll see us. “Get to the porch. Hurry.” Rune made a bee-line to the back porch, Vargr in the lead with Ronan not far behind with Sleipnir. The horse could sense their urgency and had no trouble climbing up onto the deck as they all gathered up against the house. They’re going to see us. “They’re going to see us, Rune.” Ronan’s voice collided with Vargr’s inside her head. She stomped her foot and growled, “I know. But not if I can ward things right this time.” Rune scanned her surroundings for something that she could draw or paint with, but she didn’t see anything. There was no time for her to run to the garden shed for a can of paint…she would have to improvise. “Blood.” She whispered as the thought occurred to her. Blood would work, but she was going to need a lot of it to do what she was thinking of doing. “Blood? You going to ward with your blood?” Ronan had let go of the reins and stepped toward her as if to defend her. “We don’t have any other options.” Rune shook her head. She had to find something to pierce her skin and draw enough blood to draw her runes. As if her panic was a cue, the sound of wolves howling echoed off the houses, but they were still somewhere in the distance. It wouldn’t be long before they followed whatever scent they had picked up and found them all defenseless on the porch. Don’t scream. Rune didn’t have a chance to question Vargr’s command before he bit down hard on her left arm, puncturing the skin multiple times as the blood began to pour from the wound. She didn’t scream, just like he told her not to, but Ronan did let out a yelp before he clamped his hand over his mouth. Rune had little time to work, for various reasons, but her mind went blank as she tried to dig deep for the right thing to inscribe. Her little nursery rhyme wasn’t going to be enough this time; even if it kept something from getting on the porch, the vargs could still see them standing there and with Vargr’s urgency, they would probably stop at nothing to find a way through the barrier. They needed to be invisible. “Think, Rune, think.” She muttered to herself as she dipped her fingers in the blood from her arm and began to shape the runes on the banisters as quickly as she could. The letters started to flow as the words came to mind and Rune whispered to herself as she worked. “Odin sees with one eye, what you won’t see with two. Shielded from an evil glare, protected are the few.” Rune painted the runes with each letter of the rhyme, feeling almost silly at the sing-song words she was inscribing on the wooden banister. But with each finished letter, she swore she saw her blood glow like fire as she worked on to the next, continuously repeating the rhyme. The howls of unspeakably large lupine vocal cords sounded again, although this time it seemed like they were mere meters down the road; they were running out of time. Rune tried to speed up the process further, careful not to make any mistakes, her lips moving endlessly without even making a sound as she continued to paint. She was feeling light-headed now, but she couldn’t stop as she covered the other side of the porch with her blood, the barrier of runes now meeting in the middle where the open staircase stood. She had to seal the barrier with a gate, something that they could leave through, but nothing else could get in. It had to be strong and it had to hold, but what word or phrase would do the trick? You are the gate. Vargr spoke to her. He must have been listening to her this whole time; who knows what all he had heard. But his words didn’t make any sense. What was she supposed to do, stand at the top of the stairs and connect the two sides with her arms? It’s in your name. Just find it. Her name. Rune. But that could be anything. A ghostly sound, a haunted whine from desperate creatures arose in front of the house. There was no time left. They were here; they had found them. It would only be moments before they picked up the scent and found them exposed behind the house. She had worked so hard, so tirelessly to create this new barrier—she couldn’t give up now. Rune knelt down at the top of the stairs, closed her eyes, and started to draw. She let her fingers move wherever they felt they needed to go, a tingling sensation beneath them between her and the wood of the stairs, guiding her until it told her where to stop. With the final stroke, she felt her head swim as the light around her started to dim and she fell back. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Ronan whispered, his arms ready to catch her. He gently picked her up and carried her over to the back wall of the house. He had torn the sleeves from his flannel shirt and now wrapped one sleeve around her upper arm to slow the blood flow and used the other to bind the bite mark. All the while, he glared at Vargr for his lack of hesitancy when he decided to bite down on Rune, even though it was necessary at the time. His quick thinking probably saved them, but his willingness to potentially sacrifice her at the same time was strange, considering. They’re coming around the house. Everyone quiet. Rune held her finger to her lips as she reached out to stroke Sleipnir and keep him calm; she had no idea how he would react to what they were about to see. Cover the horse’s face; he’ll give us away. Vargr whispered inside Rune’s head. She motioned for Ronan’s jacket that was balled up on the ground and gently placed it over the horse’s head, all the while still gently petting his face; they had to keep him calm. Ronan gathered on the other side of the horse and mimicked Rune, reaching out his free hand for hers; he could tell that she was terrified, but trying not to show it. Dried grass crunching under large padded paws caused them all to freeze in place, trying to slow their breath and not make a sound. There had to be at least three of the beasts, but they would soon come to see that there were five in total as the small pack rounded the house and came into view. They were somehow even larger than Vargr with ghostly grey fur that stuck out from their body in matted clumps like armored spikes. Red eyes glowed as they turned their heads and trained their ears for the sound of prey. Mouths full of sharp, jagged teeth hung open as they panted heavily and sniffed about the property. Vargr, what are they? Rune thought at the smaller wolf, never taking her eyes off the ones in front of her. Í told you, Úlfberi. It means ‘wolf bearer’; they’re not real vargr, they’re wearing our skin using magi to transform themselves. And how is that different from you? Rune had let that seed of doubt about the wolf be planted in her mind. She needed to be more wary. Because I am a wolf. Don’t let Ronan sway you with that shapeshifter boarshit. I can control my size, but so can most real Vargs. These fools spent too much time playing pretend and it has driven them mad; now they can’t shift back into their original form. His answer was sound, but Rune still wasn’t sure. She didn’t even really know what was going on and was sure that Ronan was just as clueless; they were just following along with the fantasy story that their lives had turned into. Nothing really made any damn sense. Rune’s attention snapped back to the pack of pseudo-vargr that patrolled around in front of them and she watched as one stopped in front of the stairs to the porch and looked straight at her…at least it felt that way. She can smell your galdr, but they can’t see you. You did excellent work. Vargr subtly nudged her with his snout and she felt herself grow warm with the compliment; it bolstered her confidence. Ronan could see that there was some sort of exchange going on again between the other two, but he couldn’t really ask what was being said. Maybe it was none of his business, but he feared that Rune had put all her faith into this wolf when he was really the start of their troubles…aside from the metal box. The wolf that was standing in front of the porch let out an ear-splitting howl and the others that had gone to scout about came bounding in from all directions to see what it was that she had discovered. They all began to prowl around the perimeter of the porch sniffing about, the one female never moving from her post in front of the stairs. Sleipnir started to stir, but Rune’s touch seemed to be enough to keep him silent. “They know.” Rune whispered quietly, but she watched the ears of the she-wolf perk up. Ronan squeezed her hand and Vargr scolded her internally for speaking out loud. She was scared and afraid she’d alert the vargs to their presence, so she squeezed her eyes shut, willing the potentially murderous pack away. She started to recite her latest galdr in her head, over and over again as a way to take her mind off the danger in front of them. Odin sees with one eye, what you won’t see with two. Shielded from an evil glare, protected are the few. Odin sees with one eye, what you won’t see with two. Shielded from an evil glare, protected are the few. She repeated over and over again, her eyes still closed as she focused on the words and runes that danced behind her eyelids with every recitation. There was a rather quiet, sharp inhale from Ronan next to her and she opened one eye to see the red glow that surrounded the porch now. But that wasn’t all that she saw. The she-wolf in front of her was now almost human looking, though her eyes were more broadly set like that of a wolf, her nose was small and blunt, lips full and dark against grey skin. She was still looking right at Rune as if she could see her, while four men who looked almost identical to her in features ran around the porch still, but never daring to try and walk upon it. Rune closed that one eye and continued to recite the galdr, focusing even harder on the meaning behind the words, empowering the runes to work for them. That glare that the she-varg kept giving her; there was a knowing that the creature had, but she couldn’t do anything about it because Rune was very specific in her galdr. There was enough power behind her incantation, enough love for those with her on that porch, that the runes lit up vibrantly like torches in the darkness and suddenly the pack of vargs seemed scared and in a panic, the female howled again, the four replied, and all of them retreated from the backyard, the sound of their paws waning in the distance as they scampered off. Everyone collectively let out a held breath and Rune felt herself beginning to cry from the emotional letdown after the tension subsided. She didn’t move from her spot against the house and instead held her wounded arm and cried into her jumper. She told the others there was nothing here, not anymore. She could have sworn she saw something but her eyes were playing tricks on her. Vargr relayed to Rune what the she-vargr had communicated with her pack. Even if they weren’t true wolves like Vargr, he still seemed to understand them as if they were. Maybe they had mastered the language from all their years of changing into the wolf. She saw me. I had a moment of weakness and she definitely saw me. Rune thought back. So what if she did? She wasn’t convinced of it obviously. And that was because of your galdr; I was quite impressed by the off the cuff. Vargr’s compliment made Rune feel slightly uncomfortable now—she had never really felt like she had excelled at much of anything, but that was entirely her fault. “We need to repair the fence before they decide to come back.” Rune ignored what Vargr said and instead addressed Ronan. “Right, but how are we going to do that with the size of that tree?” Ronan returned, taking the jacket off of Sleipnir’s face, who grunted as he stood to his hooves. I’ll move it. Rune squinted at Vargr as if to suggest that he was mad for saying such a thing. There was no way he could possibly move that tree, even if they could cut it up into smaller sections. I know what you’re thinking, but remember that I can alter my size. I’ll move it and then we can patch up the break. Rune blinked rapidly for a second and shook her head before she filled Ronan in, “Vargr says he can move the tree and then we’ll just need to find some timber to fix the break.” “I’m not even going to ask how. We just need to get it done.” Ronan subtly rolled his eyes as he led Sleipnir off the back porch and around the house to the stable. He really doesn’t like me, does he? I wouldn’t say that he doesn’t like you, just that he’s extremely cautious. Rune replied as she followed Vargr off the porch and around the opposite side of the house towards the fallen tree. All the while the wolf’s nose was to the ground, following the scent of the pack that had just left. Whatever you say. As long as you like me, I don’t really care what he thinks. Vargr emitted a low growl as he took two huge steps and was suddenly the size of the house. The sudden shift in size startled Rune so bad that she fell back into a rose bush. She wondered what Ronan would think if he saw the wolf this way and ignored the fact that she was pricked all to hell from the rose bush she rolled out of. Careful now. Vargr laughed at her as he stepped lightly over the fence, bent down, and picked up the entire tree in his mouth before he dropped it hard on the ground where it snapped into two pieces. It was then rather easy for him to pick up each piece individually and place it across the street in the vacant field that led down to the inlet. This left only some small debris and a few larger branches that Rune was easily able to move on her own. She was in the middle of the act when Ronan came through the front yard just as Vargr trotted back up at a decent size. “How did he do that so fast?” Ronan pointed at the two big logs stacked up across the street. Rune shrugged, “You said you weren’t going to ask. But now we need to find some loose lumber so we can repair this because what’s left isn’t salvageable.” She kicked the splintered planks over into a pile with her feet before she scanned the yard for anything they could use. Aside from tearing the wood from the house, there didn’t seem to be much. “I—I saw some wood in Erik’s shed.” Ronan uttered a few words that Rune absolutely did not want to hear. “No. Nope. I’m not going into that shed. I can’t.” She shook her head violently as if to shake the image of Erik rotting on the cart from her mind. I’ll go with him for the wood, but you need to wait on the porch until we return; it’s not safe for you to be alone out here. Rune nodded slowly at Vargr before she relayed to Ronan, “Vargr says he will go with you. I have to wait on the porch.” Ronan hesitated. He didn’t really want to be alone with the wolf and he had no way to communicate with him, but he wasn’t going to force Rune to be traumatized just so he wasn’t uncomfortable. “Alright, but he’s going to have to bear with me because I don’t speak warg.” Ronan sounded a bit displeased by the prospect. He’s lucky if I don’t eat him. Rune sighed at Vargr internally, Not funny, before she spoke aloud, “Play nice; both of you.” They both snorted at her command and paired off to head to the shed behind Erik’s house while Rune returned to her own. Photo by Ashish Kumar on Unsplash “Here’s the roster for the rescue and retrieval party. Everyone was told to be on high alert and go for supplies first, bodies after.” Rogue set down a piece of paper in front of Harlow. Harlow scanned the parchment and responded, “Good. I hate that we had to do what we did, but I don’t know what better decision could have been made. I’ve been honest and let the others in rank know of what transpired, but I plan on telling the rest of the congregation tonight. There is a possibility they will want to seek retribution for my actions and I may be voted to leave here.” Harlow had been thinking about what she’d done since they got back the night before, not sleeping a wink. “Maybe not. But why tell them? Why worry them with that? They came here for shelter, food, and safety. We can’t assure them that if they know that some of us slipped up and didn’t obey orders, thus resulting in transformation and later death. Justified death because of the circumstances. You were protecting me and technically he attacked first; it was self-defense completely. If we tell them, tell them when spring comes and things are easier, not now. We need you too much.” Rogue tried to talk some sense into her. Harlow considered it. She was on the fence about her actions, but was starting to lean more towards Rogue’s side. “I won’t tell them tonight then. But some may ask why Robin and Shane aren’t around. Do we lie about that? I feel like omitting information isn’t as dangerous as a downright lie. But it complicates things.” Harlow was mostly talking to herself, working through the situation. “No. We tell them the truth. They were attacked because they went further than instructed and it resulted in their death. Omit the details; not as dangerous.” Rogue had just the right solution. “Yeah, alright. I don’t feel great about this, but we need everyone to survive this winter.” Harlow settled in and finally agreed to the idea. “Good. I’m going to let the others know our plan of action on this issue and you just take it easy for the night. It’s supposed to be a clear one; maybe you can see some of those stars you love so much.” Rogue leaned over Harlow where she sat and planted a kiss on her forehead. Harlow chuckled wryly, “When have you ever known me to take it easy? But I just may climb up to the tippy top and look through the telescope anyway.” “Good. I don’t want to see you till the morning. Good night, Harley.” Rogue winked at Harlow and slipped out of her room. Harlow had the whole attic area to herself as it didn’t have the tallest of ceilings and was mostly full of dusty old icons, broken furniture, and a supply of communion wine that she had hidden away for a special occasion. Above her, however, was the bell tower and the perfect place to survey the land below and the sky above. She resigned to doing what Rogue playfully demanded she do, and climbed the ladder that led to the open air of the bell tower. It was dark most of the time now and the stars were the only solace to the loss of the sun. Even the moon could barely be seen behind the hazy red glow that now filled the sky for twenty-two hours a day. Most assumed that the apocalypse had befallen all and the red skies were a sign of the devil on earth, but if you used your brain, you knew it wasn’t that. At least not the devil and nothing to do with the Bible. It was magikal, however. At least that’s what Harlow, Rogue, and a few others believed. Before the sky turned red, they had known of them. It was an accident that they even encountered one and remembered, but that one happy accident led to a group of ruffians banding together to stop their genocide. They just didn’t know who they were stopping, exactly. They were called Vampyr, or Vampire alternatively, and were something that had been talked about in private for centuries, tons of lore compiled, but there really was no proof that they were actually a thing. Some claimed to have infiltrated nests and fought lords and barons in the ranks of the blood drinkers, but it was mostly considered boasting and inflated fabrication. But Harlow knew they were real. She knew because a chance encounter in a secret opium den showed her the truth. She was working there as part of another money making scheme that ran through the den. Harlow’s job, as well as Rogue and Niridia’s, was to entertain the men that frequented the den to chase the dragon and chase some tail. It wasn’t a job that they chose, but one that was necessary at the time. However, that job happened to put her in the right, or wrong, place at the time. Harlow was lounging with a gentleman friend, not having partaken in the dragon, and was letting herself be used as a pillow while quietly observing the room. In a corner there was a man behind a sheer curtain tacked to the wall, knelt over a woman, one who Harlow knew quite well. But this woman did not seem like she was inviting of whatever advances he was giving and Harlow felt the urge to intervene, but knew there was nothing she could do. Especially, now that the woman was flailing and kicking her legs, surely not having a good time. Harlow couldn’t get the attention of anyone sober and basically watched this hulking man in a black cloak kill her friend. So, she screamed. It just slipped from her lips and she screamed, leaping up onto the sofa she had been lounging on. The man in the dark cloak was on her before she could blink, strong fingers gripping her throat. “I should kill you for screaming, but luckily we’re in a den of inequity and no one but you noticed. Are you not on the chase?” The man asked, blood staining his chin and teeth. Harlow said nothing. She didn’t know what to say to a man that had just violently tore out the throat of one of her friends. “Speak up, young one. Your pupils aren’t dilated and you smell of logical thought. You’re not fucked up like the rest.” The man spoke with a gravely tone, a metallic scent on his tongue. “No. I’m of sound of mine.” Harlow finally choked out. “What a shame it would be to kill you—you’re but only one and a child at that. It’s your lucky night, lass. I’m going to let you live, but you won’t remember a thing about what just happened. You saw nothing but a room full of worthless drug addicts and sad sacks of human flesh.” The man’s voice changed, deep and sultry as it bade her to forget. But it wasn’t working. Harlow wasn’t convinced and was still staring wide eyed at a bloody mouthed murderer. She couldn’t let him know that, however. So, she put on a show. Harlow let her face relax and pretended like her mind had been wiped of the event. She sat back down on the sofa, staring straight forward, not at anything in particular, and let the gentleman she was with worm his head back to her bosom. “’Atta girl. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” The man grinned at her before wiping the blood from his face and took his leave. Harlow remembered the whole event as if it had happened yesterday and not well over a decade ago. It was in that moment that she knew that the supernatural was real, that vampires actually existed and she could have been killed by one. But for some reason he let her go with the assumption that his influence was enough, but the glamour, as some call it, didn’t work on her. Harlow pulled herself from the frequent memory and went to the telescope, focusing it on a certain location in the sky. She observed the stars for a bit before her attention was diverted to noise outside the church. It wasn’t human, however; it was vampire. A man and woman strolled along in the dark, the woman with an umbrella over head as to keep away the sun or rain, though neither were a problem. They talked loudly with one another, sounding as if they were drunk, the woman clinging to the man’s arm as she giggled seductively. Harlow had an impulse that she shouldn’t entertain, but everyone was asleep now and she needed to take it easy, this would be easy and fulfill the urge to get out from behind fortified walls. She scaled down the ladder to her room, donned her coat and hat, and snuck down to the basement hall, making sure she had her key to lock the door behind her. She came out on the street just as the couple had passed, still talking loudly. Harlow made sure to look around for any others before she ducked behind a crumbling store display and followed stealthily behind them. “What a lovely evening it is, George. Dark and dry, that soft red glow, the smell of fresh blood on the air. Just perfect.” The woman gushed, clutching on to her companion’s arms with raking nails. “Indeed it is, my love. Such a fine night for a stroll and a show. This newly born batch that has been running around is sniffing out all the fresh human blood for us…if we can get to it before they do.” George responded, patting the woman’s hand. They paused at what used to be a bus stop and just mused at the cloudiness of the reddened night. Harlow needed a better vantage spot to listen and quietly climbed the awning of the bus depot where she could view and listen from atop. “There’s just so many. And they run around all wild and unrefined—how are they supposed to be an improvement? Seems like a waste of good blood in my opinion.” The woman responded with a frown. “I quite agree with you, Addie, but our opinions make no matter in this. We haven’t been around long enough.” George returned. This couple knew something about the enraged New Borns skulking about. Maybe she could get them to talk… (*) “Aye, what trouble are we getting in tonight, lads?” A man called Simon hooted, kicking a crumbling brick wall that crunched and toppled over when his foot met it. “Well, let’s see. We can go get some drinks at the tavern or we can troll for a bite. Maybe a little opium and some absinthe? A few whores? I need a release.” Another man who they referred to as Vlad, even though he was far from the real thing, spoke. “I’m just here to make sure you tossers don’t end up in a dungeon somewhere again.” Another replied flatly. “Oi, Grimm…you’re the tosser. And a whiny twat at that. Sorry you got put on nanny duties, but someone has to take responsibility for us since we can’t be held accountable for our actions whilst on the drugs and liquor.” Simon shot back with a snarky laugh. “Respect your elders, knob head. I don’t like this anymore than you do.” Grimm spat, narrowing his eyes at Simon who made a face and then shrugged in response. Before they could begin talking again about where the evening would lead them, a woman’s scream rang out, followed by the panicked grunts of a man. “Maybe trouble has found us!” Vlad grinned, and took off in the direction of the screams, Grimm hot on their heels. The trouble was Harlow, however. She had leapt off the awning of the bus stop and tackled George, going for the neck with her silver chain. She quickly had him subdued due to the surprise, and kept Addie at bay with the threat of cutting her partner’s head off if she even tried to make a move. She tried to get information out of them about the New Borns, but they both insisted that they knew no more than what she had already heard. But Harlow didn’t believe them. She was just going in with a new tactic when a shout to her left caused her to turn her head, and ‘ole George slipped out from under her grasp, grabbed Addie by the hand, and raced off in the opposite direction up the street. “What the fuck do ye’ think you’re doing?” A thickly accented voice asked her as a group of no less than five men rounded the alley and appeared underneath an unlit street lamp. Two under the plan of surprise was one thing…but five? And she was the one caught off guard this time. “Interrogating vampires. What are you doing?” Harlow felt the adrenalin rush and let her mouth run away with her. “Having dinner it looks like.” Another vampire stepped forward, baring his fangs. Harlow scoffed, “Are—are you trying to intimidate me? Because I’m not afraid of you. There is not a single world where I would be afraid of your kind.” The vampire threatening to have her for dinner cocked his head to the side and squinted at her. “Not afraid, even just a little?” The other talker stepped forward and hissed at her like a disgruntled cat. “Nah. Actually, I’d love if you’d test me right now.” Harlow’s lips spread into a menacing grin. She needed a little fight to take the edge off. “Alright, Simon. Shall we?” The first vampire to threaten her for dinner turned to the other with fangs bared. “Oh, dear Vlad. It would make my night.” Simon laughed and lifted in the air towards Harlow. He couldn’t even connect with her because she had taken out her silver chained and whipped him around the waist, spinning him through the air in a haze of smoke and sizzling flesh when she yanked the chain back. “Vlad, was it? Your turn?” Harlow asked flatly as she looped her chain in one hand and produced what appeared to be a dagger with the other. Vlad charged forward, snarling like a wild beast, taloned fingers poised and ready to slash. He was much quicker than his companion and was able to get a swipe in before Harlow dodged his other hit and cracked him on the back of the head with her balled fist. Simon was now up and moving again, rejoining the fight with a few punches before Harlow had his hands wrapped up in the silver chain and was trailing him along behind her like a disobedient puppy as she continued to spar with Vlad. She had knocked the unrestrained vampire to the ground with a hammering blow and was just about to stake him with her dagger when she paused, flung Simon over her shoulder so he lay next to Vlad, and turned to the rest that weren’t attacking her. “I don’t feel like killing anyone tonight. I don’t think I was even going to kill those other two, if we’re being honest. I’m too tired and that makes me sympathetic, I suppose. Take your friends out of here alive and we’ll call it even?” Harlow spoke through heavy breaths. It was Grimm that considered it. He stood there between the other two standing and viewed her in such a way that it made her self-conscious, almost uncomfortable. “Alright, yeah. I was just going to let you ash the other two, but since you offered them up so politely, I’ll be the good chaperone and take these two knob-heads back. Thank you, for your mercy.” Grimm agreed, but Harlow found him a little too amicable and decided to stay on her guard. “Not mercy, just too tired to finish the job.” Harlow shrugged, unwinding the silver chain before she slipped it back in her pocket. The two vampires on the ground got up with hesitation before scurrying back over to Grimm. “Either way, it’s much appreciated. One doesn’t witness humans fighting vampires and winning, let alone showing mercy, exhaustion induced or not. I do suggest you run back home, however, because when certain folks find out about what happened here tonight, and they will, it won’t be safe for you out here.” Grimm was honest with his response. “They haven’t killed me yet.” Harlow chuckled as she backed away from the vampires and scampered off into a dark alley. “You just gonna let her run off like that after what she did?” Simon was still panting after his fight. Grimm nodded, “Mhm, She won fair and square. You do realize that she could have killed you both, but she didn’t. You two got real fucking lucky. Better to nurse your wounds and live to fight another day.” Grimm turned and beckoned the others with a flick of his finger, all obeyed, and they went back to looking for a good time that didn’t involve them getting their asses handed to them by a human. "Eye Spy"When the two got back down in the bunker, they stripped off their soiled clothing and decided to get in the shower together, still wearing their skivvies. Rune had to lean against the wall to get through it, the weight of her mud-caked hair making her arms ache as she tried to get it clean. Ronan ended up taking over, politely forcing Rune to let him help her so she could get to sleep quicker. The water practically ran cold before they got completely clean, but the two changed into dry underwear and fresh clothes before they bumbled down the hallway to the living room, flicked on Ina and Liza, and fell face first into Rune’s bed. It didn’t take long before the two fell asleep to the sounds of their favorite show. (*) Ronan woke to the sound of screaming. He didn’t realize that the screaming was coming from Rune, who had backed herself into the corner where the bed was positioned. Her eyes were open as she shrieked, but she was clearly not awake. Ronan couldn’t remember exactly what you were supposed to with someone who was more or less sleepwalking, but he needed to wake her up. He remembered what she said about touch when she was having an episode and he hoped that it would work for this too. He scooted across the bed carefully and reached his hand out to touch her face as he said her name. “Rune.” She let out a singular scream before the light flickered on in her eyes and she slumped against the wall, tears now streaming down her face as she cried. “I can’t stop seeing them; their faces, that look of death. And that Elk—thing—just fucking haunts me. I can’t sleep anymore…gotta get up.” Rune spoke rapidly, propelling herself forward on the bed till she was standing upright. She took off into the kitchen and within a few seconds, Ronan could hear retching sounds and then more sobbing. He rushed to the kitchen to find her sitting on the floor, her legs splayed out and her head in her hands. “Oh, love. Come here.” Ronan walked into the kitchen and scooped the woman up off the floor and carried her to the sofa back in the living room. She continued to cry the whole way, but Ronan just let her; it would be therapeutic. “The horse. I woke up to piss and found them gone; the rain had washed away the barrier. I went looking for them, and Vargr since he was missing too, but instead I found a dead horse and nothing else. It was awful…they disemboweled her.” Rune babbled. “Who is they? The Lindworms?” Ronan wanted to be clear about who she was talking about. “I don’t know. I got upset and called them out and then I was swarmed by Linnormr. I don’t think I would have survived if it hadn’t been for that Elk thing. Maybe it was the killer, or the Linnormr, or possibly another thing entirely. But something killed that horse and I think would have killed Sleipnir if Vargr hadn’t found him. For all I know, we could have been next. And then my mind cycles back to Erik and who murdered him. I am so completely and utterly overwhelmed and didn’t even realize it because I was in fight or flight mode for far too many days. Something unfathomable happened to us, Ronan. We’re not from this planet and there are things only talked about in mythology books that are hunting us. I mean, I made friends with a fucking talking wolf, for Christ’s sake! Things are so beyond my comfortability level right now.” Rune started to cry again, sobbing uncontrollably as she thought of Vargr’s sacrifice. “Hey, hey, it’s going to be alright. Let it out. Cry all night if you have to,” Ronan held her in his lap, “Cry for both of us.” Rune’s tears slowed after some time and she took a deep, clearing breath before she finally spoke, “I want to find out if those cameras work.” “Ok, but I don’t even know where to start with that.” Ronan spoke into her hair. “Erik’s computer. It had to be him who set all of that up for gran and monitored everything; he was a pretty techy guy.” Rune’s focus was diverted and she slipped from Ronan’s arms and went straight to the computer before booting it up. “And I take it your gran wasn’t?” Ronan asked, following her to her desk. “Gran? Not even close. She didn’t even have a mobile phone, which got quite obnoxious, I might add. There is no way she was in charge of any of this.” Rune spoke while she searched around on the computer for anything that seemed like a surveillance program. After a bit of digging, she found a hidden app that was labeled Observation. She double clicked it and when it loaded, she was able to see each camera in operation in its own respective box on the grid. The side panel let her check the specs of the cameras and she saw that they were being powered by solar energy; Erik was a very smart man. “They’re freaking solar powered. That’s genius.” Ronan breathed. “Erik was a genius, in my opinion. Other people just didn’t understand him,” Rune paused to scan over each live picture on the feed, “These are all from my house. But it looks like there is a separate section here that may be Erik’s.” She switched to the other section and was given just as many angles but from Erik’s house’s point of view. There was one on his front porch, the back lawn, the shed, his bedroom, where he parked his car, and there were even two that were close to the road, each facing opposite directions to see from all angles. “Jaysus, he thought of everything. Must’ve cost a small fortune.” Ronan scooted Rune partially off the chair so he could sit down. “Mhmm, it also seems like he developed the app these are running off of. It looks as if while the program is up, it records the feed, but I don’t know how much storage we have, so I’m going to see if I can mess with the settings and change it to record and store only a few minutes at a time. That way if we are monitoring and catch something, we can go back a bit to check, but it won’t save everything permanently.” Rune replied without looking away from the screen. She fiddled around with the settings, which were actually quite simple thanks to Erik, and figured out how to record only little bits at a time and temporarily store them for viewing later. “Oh, there’s an alarm setting too. I guess there are motion detectors as part of this system and you can set it to notify you if certain ones are tripped; I’m setting them all up.” Rune started typing quickly, adding one more layer to their new security system. “I’m so attracted to you right now.” Ronan chuckled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re funny, but you won’t be laughing if one of those bastards gets in here because I didn’t set up the trip wires.” Rune snickered, nudging Ronan with her elbow. “Right. You’re definitely the brains in this operation. I thought you said you were no good with computers?” Ronan winked at her as he got up from the chair and went to the kitchen. “Eh, I think there is a fair amount of intelligence spread equally between the both of us. You’re definitely more logical than I am. And technology and I don’t always agree, but I’m not totally clueless when it comes to operating things.” Rune replied as she got up from the computer, leaving the feed going in the background. “I’m just at batty as you are, love; I just don’t talk about it. I got me own demons called depression and mania on top of the fact that I’m dyslexic and can’t focus on anything to save me life. I masked it really well because I didn’t want to go back on medication. I just smoked a lot of skunk and tried to keep myself occupied.” Ronan opened up about something he had never really mentioned to Rune. “You’re bipolar? You never told me that before.” Rune remarked softly. She was actually sort of hurt that he had never mentioned it prior to now. “I know and I should have. You were honest with me about your mental illness, but I—” Ronan stuttered, trying to find the words, “I didn’t want you to be put off by mine. Like when I told you I had food poisoning from the water? I was actually having a really bad depressive episode and I just needed to be alone to work through it. When you made me take that bath, it had been almost two weeks since I had seen any soap. I was being selfish because you were probably feeling the same way, but you told me despite that. I should have told you right then. I’m sorry, Rune.” Ronan apologized, feeling ashamed of himself. Rune didn’t say anything in return. Instead she walked up to him and put her face to his chest before she circled her arms around his body and squeezed. “I’m going to be sappy for a moment and tell you that I have never had a friend like you before and I am so thankful that the universe brought us together. Nothing about you could ever change how I feel in that respect; you’re my best friend, Ronan.” Rune’s words were slightly muffled by his shirt. Ronan felt his stomach flutter as she spoke those words, but he wouldn’t let himself break, “Even if I was a psycho murderer?” “At this point, even if you were a psycho murderer. Because I don’t think you’d ever murder me.” Rune laughed as she poked Ronan in the ribs and he yelped, backing up against the kitchen counter. As his back met the counter, an alarm sounded. It was almost identical to the one that went off when Rune found the metal box. Her heart leapt in her chest as the alarm blared and she covered her ears. She had a delayed reaction to the sound, unsure of what she was hearing at first before it dawned on her that it was probably the trip alarms. Ronan was already ahead of her as he took a couple long strides into the living room to check the computer. “It’s just Sleipnir. He left the stable to graze.” Ronan laughed, clicking the button to silence the screeching sound of the alarm. Rune gave a sigh of relief, “Maybe we should turn that one off then.” She hurried over to the computer and fiddled with the settings before she lowered the volume, watching Sleipnir peacefully grazing in the dark as she did. She wondered what time it was and glanced at the quartz clock on the wall; she assumed the time was reading 8:36 PM. They obviously hadn’t been asleep that long because there was no way she could have slept over twenty-four hours with those night terrors. Her stomach was also a good indicator too as it was telling her it was hungry, but not starving. “You wanna eat?” Rune blurted randomly, turning to Ronan who was clicking through different camera views. “I could eat. What am I saying…I’m starving. What’re you thinking?” Ronan offered her his hand to help her from the office chair. “Hm, spaghetti Bolognese? Gran and I spent a summer in Italy and she took these cooking classes…so much sauce. There’s still a couple pounds of ground reindeer in the deep freezer and plenty of dried pasta.” Rune rambled as they walked back to the kitchen. “That sounds wonderful. Point me in the direction of the deep freezer and I’ll get the meat.” Ronan pointed in random directions as he spoke. “Other side of the refrigerator. I have to go into the pantry for the sauce and pasta, will you get a pot of water boiling so we can thaw the meat?” Rune asked as she headed out of the kitchen again. Ronan nodded in agreement as Rune passed through the living room and down the hall to the door across from the bathroom where the pantry was. She grabbed a jar of tomato sauce and a box of dried spaghetti before checking the wine rack for a good red to go with their dinner. She was playing pretend, trying to make things feel normal, even though she was practically ready to jump out of her own skin. Her mind was running on a constant loop of anticipation, waiting for the next time the trip-alarm sounded—that whole experience with the metal box had given her some form of post-traumatic stress. Rune had found the nicest bottle of red wine that Erik had stored down there and, as if on cue with her thoughts, the alarm started to sound again as she was walking back down the hallway. She almost dropped everything she was holding, scrambling clumsily to hold on to it all as she hobbled down the hall. Ronan had made it to the computer before she did and was checking the feed, his body suddenly standing up straight. “Rune!” He yelled, not realizing that she was right behind him. “What? What is it?” She asked, almost a little too excitedly, as she dropped the load she was carrying on the sofa and rushed over to the computer. Ronan pointed at the screen, “Camera 6 on Erik’s side.” Rune scanned the screen for the right feed and brought up a maximized version. It was one of the cameras that faced the street and showed the darkened road and the trees that swayed in what was most certainly an icy breeze. But she didn’t see anything moving and wondered if maybe it was the trees that had tripped the alarm. Ronan was insistent though. “I saw something. Pull up the other roadside view.” He asserted. She obeyed and pulled up the other camera trained on the street; now she was able to see in both directions. And there it was, movement in the other camera just at the bottom of the screen. It was hard to tell what it was, because it was so dark, but it appeared to be…hairy. It stayed there for a while and Rune thought the feed was lagging, but then it began to move into frame fully as it walked out into the street. “Vargr.” Rune drew a sharp breath, smacking both hands down on the desk. “That’s what I thought I fucking saw. I wonder how he found us.” Ronan stared at the screen, watching the giant wolf circle the street. “Scent. Either ours or Sleipnir’s. That means that other things can find us too,” Rune stepped away from the desk and grabbed her other jacket that was hung up by the metal doors. “Where are you going?” Ronan asked, looking around on the floor for his boots. Rune gave him a look like he had asked a dumb question as she responded, “To let him know we’re here.” “I just don’t know how I feel about him. There’s something off.” Ronan expressed himself as he rummaged around in his bag for a sweatshirt. “I’m still unsure myself, but I just—I thought he was dead and it deeply upset me. I feel a connection to that wolf for some reason and compelled to make sure that he’s safe.” Rune explained, shrugging. “Alright, that’s good enough for me, but I’m still going to be cautious for both of us, if you don’t mind.” Ronan pulled his knit cap over his head and walked straight out of the bunker without waiting for Rune. The two quietly exited the house through the back door in the kitchen and came around the side, making sure to check on Sleipnir who was now lying in his stable, sleeping soundly. Ronan had grabbed Erik’s gun, just in case, and was leading the way to the front of the house. If Vargr was out here, there was always the possibility that something else had followed him without his knowledge. As they got to the front of the house, Rune laid her hand on Ronan’s arm and caused him to halt. She raised her finger to her lips and then tapped her forehead; he understood what she was going to do. Vargr. She waited quietly for a response, huddled down close to the porch. Vargr, can you hear me? Is it just you, or are we in danger? Rune called to him again, unsure of the range they had with this type of conversation. Rune, where are you? Your scent is everywhere, but I can’t pin it down. It’s just me as far as I know; I don’t smell any rot. Vargr finally responded, eliciting a sigh from Rune. “It’s just him. He followed my scent here.” Rune stood up from their hiding spot and marched out into the yard, Ronan hissing at her to be careful as he hurried behind her. As she approached the gate to the fence, she caught sight of Vargr. He was on the other side of the street under the only streetlamp on the road, just sitting there like he was waiting patiently to be fed. When he saw her, he sprang up, trotting quickly across the street to meet her at the gate. Vargr threw his huge head over the fence and Rune’s immediate instinct was to hug his face, latching on like he was a long lost pet that had finally come home. Now, now, everything is alright. I’m just glad to see that you made it out alive. The wolf hassled in her ear as he rested his heavy muzzle on her shoulder. “He alright?” Ronan appeared next to her, making sure to stay within reach of Rune in case something happened. She nodded before thinking back at Vargr. I remembered what you said about galdr—they had these symbols made out of runes hung above the trail. I think they were a magical U-turn, flipping us back around on the path. But what’s weird is Ronan couldn’t see them, not until I broke them. The wolf pulled his head away and the two made eye-contact for a moment, those glowing orange eyes staring back at her in the darkness. In that moment she felt like she recognized the wolf’s face. Like I said, we are not the same. He can’t see through their illusions, but we can. Vargr responded, now pacing back and forth in front of the fence. Ronan was feeling a little awkward due to their exchange and announced that he was going to check on the horse, though no one seemed to really acknowledge him. We. Does that mean that we are the same? Rune didn’t understand what he meant, but there was some thread there that she needed to follow. Are you going to let me in or am I going to have to pace out here all night on patrol? Vargr ignored her question; he seemed anxious. How rude she had been, not inviting him in. She popped the handle on the gate and opened it wide for the hulking animal to slink through. Rune smelled the distinct scent of electricity on the air as he passed her into the yard, but it was gone as soon as he was safely on the other side of the barrier and Rune had the gate shut tight. The two started to walk towards the makeshift stable where Ronan was filling up a bucket full of water from the hose, completely in the dark. He set the bucket close to Sleipnir with some extra hay to snack on as he lovingly made sure the horse was covered with a blanket to keep warm. “I invited him in; I hope that’s ok.” Rune asked, feeling a little guilty. Ronan smiled tiredly in the dark and replied, “He’s safer in here. Dunno about his huge ass fitting in the bunker, though.” I don’t have to stay this size; it isn’t permanent. It was as if they blinked and Vargr was smaller, more the size of your average wolf, but still just as eerie. Unless, you’d rather I stay out here. I understand if you don’t trust me enough to invite the wolf into the fox’s den. Rune made a funny sound and yet again, Ronan was left none the wiser, so he finally spoke up. “Not to sound like a dick, but it’s kind of irritating when you two carry on a conversation like that since I can’t hear either of you. I don’t want to seem entitled to the conversation, but you know.” Rune’s face fell as she hadn’t been paying attention to that fact, forgetting that Ronan wasn’t like them and was being left out of the conversation entirely. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Apparently, he doesn’t have to stay that size and asked if we’d rather he stay out here in case we don’t trust him fully yet.” Ronan shared the conversation succinctly. “A shapeshifter. Yeah, I dunno how much I trust a shapeshifter, but if he can fit in the bunker, no need to leave him out here.” Ronan gave in. Rune sighed quietly out of relief before responding, “I wish it were feasible for Sleipnir to be down there with us, but it just isn’t. You can come in, but you have to tell me when you need to go out.” Rune patted Vargr and he growled. Don’t patronize me. She chuckled and gestured with her head for him to follow her. “I’m going to have a quick smoke and then I’ll be down.” Ronan held up the hand with a lit cigarette in it. Rune paused in her step, “You want us to wait for you so you aren’t out here all alone?” “Nah,” Ronan shook his head, “I’ll be fine.” Rune hesitated for a moment before she patted his shoulder. He sat down on one of the patio chairs on the back porch before she and Vargr entered the house. Ronan needed a few minutes alone. His mind was doing that thing that it does and he was aware of it, so it was better if he just stepped away and cleared his head before he went on socializing. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that Rune and the wolf were able to talk the way they did. It wasn’t that he really felt left out, he was almost—jealous. Of a wolf. Or of something that could appear as a wolf; he was wary of the shapeshifting abilities. But he felt silly…jealous over a talking dog. He had found a friend, someone who genuinely cared about him and was a good person, and he wondered if the jealousy stemmed from his fear of losing that. Ronan finished his cigarette and then shook his head hard, staring up at the sliver of moon that hung in the sky. It was really beautiful to see so many stars in the sky without the pollution of artificial light obscuring them from view. He wondered which one of those millions of tiny sparkles in the sky was his actual home; the thought of him crash-landing here from another planet finally sinking in. It was weird to think about, especially coupled with the things they had experienced in the past couple of days; it all had to be connected somehow. He started thinking back to the letters that Rune found as he lit another cigarette and mulled it all over in his brain. Each sentence, each paragraph, as much as he could remember, hoping that something stuck out to him. Of course he couldn’t recall most of it, but now Erik’s words were stuck on a loop in his mind. “Our friend.” He murmured as he exhaled a plume of smoke, “Who was their friend? Someone that clearly was aware of us.” There was obviously more to it, a lot more that neither he nor Rune knew about. It all started with that metal box, but there was no clear way to open it and he’d never get away with going back to the bank; Rune probably would have a fit. And he couldn’t just lie to her about it… “Erik has to have answers in that house.” Ronan spoke to no one as he pushed off the chair he was sitting in and marched around the side of the house and between the two so that he didn’t set off the trip alarms; he didn’t want Rune to see him. He knew that there was one by the front door, but he wondered if he scaled the porch and stayed low, if he could avoid it. He then considered if it would just be easier for him to sneak away in the bunker and enter Erik’s house from the secret door. Ronan’s impulses had carried him away before he had a chance to think about things logically. But a sound of something large being dragged through the dried grass caught his attention and he duck-walked around a shrub to see what was making the sound. Crawling through the grass was a single Lindworm accompanied by two smaller beings that were grotesquely misshapen. It looked as if the Lindworm was carrying something on its snake-like body, but Ronan couldn’t see what it was in the dark. He thought it better to stay as stone still as he could until they passed from the yard, heading in the direction of the road. When he was sure that he wouldn’t possibly be seen, he snuck back around the house and slipped inside, making sure to lock every door before he returned to the bunker. Rune had led Vargr down to their secret hiding place in silence, the only sound being the padding of the wolf’s paws behind her. They entered the bunker to a strange noise and Rune quickly realized that it was the pot of water on the stove that Ronan had set up to thaw the meat. The water was dangerously low in the pan, making a hissing sound as Rune turned it off and pulled it from the eye. For whatever reason, this was when her resilience started to crumble again, leaving her vulnerable like she had been in her dreams; it felt like she was having a mental breakdown. She desperately tried to choke back the tears before she left the kitchen, but of course she was broadcasting her thoughts across the bunker and Vargr clearly heard her. He came charging into the kitchen, his hackles raised, What’s wrong? Are you alright? “I’m fine. I’m just trying to understand everything and the fact that I don’t is starting to get to me.” Rune replied, defiantly wiping the tears from her eyes. Sometimes we aren’t meant to know everything all at once. We have to be grateful for what we do know and trust that time will tell us the rest. “Pretty words, but you’re not the one being hunted.” Rune spoke to the wolf as she took a seat at the kitchen table. You don’t know that. You don’t have any idea what I’ve been through. I’m just imparting some wisdom on you. The wolf paced in front of her, much smaller than when he had exited the trees in the forest. Even though he spoke words of patience, Rune could tell by his demeanor that he was agitated; something was eating at him. Before Rune had a chance to open her mouth and respond, one of the trip alarms went off again. This time the volume was much lower and she didn’t feel like her stomach was in her throat when the sound emanated through the bunker. She assumed that the trip was probably Ronan out on the back porch, but she decided to check anyway. Vargr, curious about the noise himself, followed. As she sat down at the desk and moved the mouse, the wolf propped his front paws up next to her so he could see what was going on. The computer finally woke up, all the feeds from Rune’s house up on the screen. But the alarm had sounded from Erik’s side… “What’s over there?” Rune asked aloud, clicking on the feeds for those cameras. It was the camera facing the shed, but the feed showed no activity. Then another alarm sounded, this time it was the camera nearest the driveway. Rune switched the feed quickly, catching whatever had tripped the first alarm. The sight caused her to stiffen up and Vargr let out a low whine. Slithering through Erik’s yard was a Lindworm, accompanied by two humanoid looking creatures on either side of it. On the back of the Lindworm was something, but even with night-vision, she couldn’t tell what it was because of the distance. There had to be a way to zoom the feed, and she frantically hunted around for it on the screen before the trio crawled out of frame. But by the time she found the toggle to zoom the camera, only a tail could be seen as it slithered out of the camera’s sight. The fear had started to set in once her thoughts went to Ronan who was still outside; she prayed that they didn’t see him. Another alarm tripped, this time the same one that had gone off when Vargr showed up. It was one of the camera’s facing the street and Rune quickly changed the view to that camera. The trio was much closer to this one and she was able to see things just a bit clearer, but she still couldn’t make out exactly what was on the back of the Linnormr. Get closer. Rune ran the toggle up, the camera sharply zooming in, struggling to focus in the dark with what little light it had. But as soon as the image came into focus, Rune let out a scream that she quickly stifled with her hand to her mouth. “E—Erik.” She began to sob again as she watched the Linnormr drag the body of her friend into the road, the corpse dangling haphazardly off of the back of the creature. She could now clearly see the other two beings, and they didn’t look too far off from Erik. They were in the later stages of decay, flesh hanging from bone, bodies pocked with what appeared to be festering blisters as they rotted where they stood, but they were much more squat than your average person. One of them coldheartedly took Erik by the head and flipped him back on to the serpent so that he wouldn’t fall off. This caused Rune to cry out again and she shoved away from the desk, trying desperately to not start screaming out of grief and anger. Breathe. Vargr came rushing up to her, circling her body with his as she started to come down to her knees. Her head was reeling and she felt like she was going to be sick again, but she tried to take a breath and steady herself. “Rune, you’re not going to—wait, what happened?” Ronan had come bursting through the door with a revelation to find Vargr wrapped around Rune on the floor, who was clearly in the grips of a panic attack again. “Breathe, Rune. Breathe, love.” Ronan hurried over to her and reached for her hand. Rune snapped out of it long enough to throw herself on Ronan, quietly sobbing as she gripped his shirt with her nails and whispered, “They took him. They just took him…how? How did they get in here?” “You saw them?” Ronan asked. “They set off three different alarms on their way out. I don’t know how we didn’t hear them come in unless they showed up while we were outside. But the wards should have held—” Rune abruptly stopped talking at the thought of her galdr failing. Don’t automatically assume that your galdr failed you, Rune. There are other ways to sabotage wards. Be patient; we can check things in the morning. “They had Erik. His body was on the back of the Linnormr,” Rune paused, another thought hitting her like a hammer, “You saw them? Did they see you?” “No. If I hadn’t gone around the house I would probably never have known they were there, but I was trying to break into Erik’s house without you knowing and happened to hear them as they came through the yard.” Ronan just couldn’t lie to her about what he was doing. “Wait, why were you trying to break into Erik’s house?” Rune asked, a look of distrust in her eyes. Ronan swallowed hard before he replied, “He’s got answers in that house, Rune. Answers about who we are and I was thinking about those letters we read and I can’t get the part out of my head where Erik mentions ‘our friend’…multiple times. Who is he talking about?” That part of the letters wasn’t something she had given any attention to at the time, her focus being more on the fact that they both had dropped from the sky. Ronan was right, though: who was their ‘friend’ and why did they have so much involvement in this aspect of their lives? “I don’t know, but whoever they are, they’re probably dead like the others, so if we do find out who they are, it’s not like we can ask them anything.” Rune’s response was bitter, but it had a point. Rune slipped away from Ronan and got up from the floor, walking aimlessly around the room as her mind raced. “But don’t you want to know more? Don’t you want to know who we are and why the hell we’re here?” Ronan got up to follow suit as he came back, “What about Vargr? Don’t you think the fact that you can talk to him means that he probably knows something about who we are?” Rune immediately stopped moving and spun around to look at Ronan and Vargr. What do you know? The wolf didn’t even blink as she asked the question, but all she got was silence. She tried asking him again, but he refused to respond to her. “What do you know, Vargr?!” Rune yelled out loud, her face flushing with color out of anger. Still the wolf said nothing and instead turned his snout towards the ground and avoided looking at her. “I know you can hear me, wolf. Why can we hear each other’s thoughts, hm? Why can you communicate with us as if you were human? This isn’t normal! I’m not fucking Snow White, so it’s not like this is an ability I’ve always had! Or is it—” Rune was starting to feel like she had literally fallen down the rabbit hole because the more she spoke about it, the crazier she felt. Things are different now. They’ve shifted and they’re not like how they once were; this world isn’t the same. That’s all that I can tell you; I don’t know any more than that. “He says things are different now. The world isn’t the same as it once was.” Rune relayed the information to Ronan before thinking another question at Vargr. Have you always been here? On Earth? There’s no way…you’re not a normal wolf. The wolf began to whine again, an agitated sound, as he stood and glared at Rune with those smoldering orange eyes. I take it that I’m not welcome here at the moment. When you’re ready to not accuse me of things, we can talk. “What? Accuse you of things? You’re the one that is making yourself look suspicious!” Rune hollered as the wolf turned tail and somehow managed to get the double doors open with his paw before he slipped between them and disappeared. “What the hell just happened?” Ronan threw his hands up in confusion. “I asked him if he had always been here and then he accused me of accusing him of things!” Rune tossed her own hands in the air out of frustration before stomping off to the kitchen. “Well, he’s going to have a fine time trying to get out of the house with no apposable thumbs.” Ronan scoffed jokingly, but Rune didn’t seem to find it funny. She was standing in front of the stove, staring down into a pot with a thin film of brown water in the bottom. She had no idea the time, or even the day, as everything had run together and she desperately wanted this all to be a hallucination in that moment because that would definitely make more sense at this point. The absurdity of it all! But she knew that it was only going to get weirder and if she hadn’t actually fallen down the rabbit hole, as she was really starting to suspect, then she was going to have to find a way to cope with this shift, as Vargr put it. “I’m not even hungry anymore,” Rune whispered, picking up the pot from the stove, “Do you still want me to cook you something?” Rune turned around, the pot still in her hand and a look of utter defeat on her face. “No. I’ve got a few protein bars and some jerky to get me by. Maybe you need to try and get some more sleep; you’re clearly exhausted and that’s never good for your mental health.” Ronan took the pot from Rune and set it in the sink. “I don’t know if I can.” Rune spoke flatly, shaking her head. Ronan pondered something for a second before he responded, “I bet I could get you to sleep.” Rune’s eyes went wide, “What does that mean?” “Not what you clearly think it does.” Ronan laughed as he left the kitchen and returned with his bag. He set it on the kitchen table and sorted through it for a second before he pulled out a wooden box and wiggled it in front of Rune. “What’s in that?” She asked, pointing at the box. “Sleep medication.” Ronan winked at her as he opened the box and pulled out what looked like a rolled cigarette. “I’m still not following. How is a cigarette going to help me sleep?” Rune asked. She came over to the table as Ronan pulled a lighter from his pocket to light the cigarette. “Because it’s not a cigarette, it’s a joint.” Ronan corrected her, taking a long drag from the end of the rolled smoke. Rune felt a little stupid as she replied sheepishly, “Oh, the sleep medication thing makes sense now.” “You ever smoked before?” Ronan passed it to her. “Not this. It’s not easy to find it out here and I never left town.” She returned, taking a small hit before she passed it back to Ronan. “Good. You should get proper knackered then. You can just crawl under the covers, get comfortable, and you’ll be out like a light, sleeping like a wee baby.” Ronan chuckled, smoke seeping from his teeth as he tried not to cough. Rune laughed in response as the joint was passed back to her and she took a much longer drag. She held it for a second, but the burn in the back of her throat forced her to cough and sputter, attempting to suck in deep breaths between hacking sounds. “Don’t die on me now. I know I’m funny, but I ain’t trying to kill my audience.” Ronan spoke around the smoke in his throat which caused Rune to laugh even harder. “I promise I won’t die on you.” She giggled, holding the joint in one hand and her pinky out with the other. “Are you really pinky promising me that you won’t die?” Ronan laughed, a big smile spread across his face. Rune squinted at him, a strange look on her face. She wiggled her pinky at him and it took everything Ronan had not to get choked up a little himself. It was the happiest he had seen her since they met, a genuine happiness without a care, and it made him feel warm inside, knowing that she at least felt some peace in that moment. Ronan linked his pinky finger with her hers and leaned over, “Now you have to kiss it to seal the deal.” The two leaned in simultaneously, Ronan expecting Rune to kiss her hand while he kissed his, just like they had done in primary school, but that’s not what happened. Instead, she pulled their linked hands down so she could lean completely over, gently placing a kiss on his forehead. Ronan was a little stunned, wondering if she didn’t understand what he had meant, but when she sat back down, her hand still linked to his, she smirked and kissed the side of her hand. “Ah, is that how we’re doing it now.” Ronan smiled. He reached out his free hand and cupped the side of her face before he drew her to him and kissed her right in the middle of her forehead. When he pulled away, he noticed how flushed Rune’s face was and wondered if it was because of the weed. “One more good hit and then it’s off to bed.” Ronan couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he watched the expression on Rune’s. Her skin had a glow to it, a look of sheer complacency on her face. “Mm, yes, please.” She agreed, taking the joint for one last hit before Ronan put it out in a pocket ash tray from the box. “Now, off to bed with ya’.” He got up from the chair and started to shoo Rune out into the living room. She giggled in her inebriation, losing her balance when she stood, Ronan having to catch her before she folded into a fit of laughter. He looped his arms under hers and steered her out towards the bed, but she protested, pushing back on him. “I don’t want to sleep in the bed. Can we just stay on the couch and watch Ina and Liza till we fall asleep?” Rune asked groggily, stumbling as she reached for the arm of the couch to steady herself. Ronan wasn’t going to argue with her, “Of course we can. You just take a seat here and I will put the show on and turn off the lights.” He guided her to the sofa and covered her in a blanket before he cut the lights off and grabbed the remote to turn the show on. The whole while, Rune kept reaching out for him, tugging on his trouser leg when he stepped too close. Finally, he nestled in beside her on the couch and she crawled into his lap, laying her head on his chest as she covered them with the blanket. “Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable. I just—I just want to be close to someone right now.” Rune spoke into the crook of Ronan’s neck, sending a shiver down his body. “No, I get it. Sometimes you just have to touch someone else to ground yourself to reality. I don’t mind you using me to ground.” Ronan spoke, his chin rested lightly on the top of her head. Rune sighed, “I’m not using you, though. I don’t just want to be close to someone, I want to be close to you. You ground me, I think. Just you.” Rune’s words were starting to slur as sleep took hold of her. Ronan felt his heartbeat quicken at her words and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, her breathing now slow and steady as she slept. He wondered if he just held on to her like this if she would sleep soundly without any nightmares. Either way, he wasn’t about to let go. For context, this was a smutty short I wrote as a gift for my wife. It's based off a Supernatural Fanfiction I wrote yeaaaaaaars ago with added OCs. Lilianna being hers. Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash “What a week this has been,” Lilianna spoke aloud to herself as she locked the doors to the Faery Moon and began her evening routine of tidying up shop before either retiring for the evening or going to Strega for a few glasses of wine and some good conversation.
She had just recently found out what trouble her sister was in, that the strange man in the overcoat was actually an Angel, and that there was now the possibility that she too was in just as much danger from gaining the knowledge that she had. Laurel and Dean had gone out with Bobby to have dinner, and Sam had ventured out to the local library hours before to do some intense research. Lilianna had declined her sister’s invitation for dinner and opted to stay in and make sure the shop was in order for the next morning. Lilianna was wiping down the glass countertop where the register perched, its contents still in the till uncounted, when she heard a knock at the door. She jumped as the stern wrapping echoed through the empty shop. Her mind had been racing a thousand miles a minute and she hadn’t expected any such noise to meet her ears. Lilianna cautiously made her way to the front door, wondering who could be knocking after hours. She peered through the curtains that hung over the glass panels on the door to find Sam standing there, a very sly smile on his face. She hurriedly unlocked the door and opened it to let him inside. He stepped nimbly through the door and instantly pressed up against it, closing it with a slight click. “You startled me,” Lilianna breathed, heaving a sigh of relief in the knowledge that it was only her boyfriend and not some demon come looking for her sister. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to take so long at the library.” He smiled, his blue green eyes glowing in the dim lighting of the shop. Before Lilianna could tell him that it was alright, Sam withdrew his right arm which had been held behind his back, to reveal a large vibrant bouquet of crimson Gerbera daisies. They were Lilianna’s favorite. “Oh, Sam.” Lilianna breathed, outstretching her arms to grasp the daisies and cradle them against her like a newborn, “These are absolutely breathtaking.” “I figured you’d love them.” Sam turned up one corner of his mouth in a proud grin, showing one perfect dimple. “I do. So much.” Lilianna gushed; throwing her arms around Sam’s neck and pulling him close in a warm embrace. She inhaled deeply as she buried her face in his chest. He smelled faintly of heady cologne and old musty books: his scent was perfection to her. “How’d the research go?” Her voice was muffled up against Sam’s strong chest. She was trying to be courteous and ask about his work, but all she could think about was what his bare chest would feel like under her hands. Smooth and chiseled. She wanted to badly trace her finger over the pentacle that was inked on his left peck. “I’ve got nothing. In all honesty at this point, I am not even sure what to look for.” Sam sighed, raising his hand to run it through Lilianna’s dark hair. It was so silky to the touch and he lingered there a little while, playing gently with the ends. “I’m sorry, Sam.” Lilianna breathed, mindlessly responding. She didn’t want to seem uninterested, but all she could think about was his naked body. “Sorry for what?” He cooed, letting his fingers trail across the nape of her neck. This sensation sent chills down her spine. “Oh, nothing.” Lilianna whispered, turning her head upward to face Sam. She stood up and planted a kiss on his full lips. Lilianna pulled away, leaving Sam breathless for a moment. When he finally found the words to speak, he said, “You know. Bobby, Dean, and Laurel decided to go to the movies and they won’t be back for a few hours…” Lilianna didn’t even bother with a response. She laced her fingers through Sam’s belt loops and tugged him across the room to the front counter, releasing for a moment only to throw her arms around his neck. She pulled him to her roughly and pressed her lips to his, hungrily tasting the mouth of the strong hunter. Sam didn’t even bother saying a word in reply to Lilianna’s actions. He reached out behind her and swept his arm over the counter, knocking off a basket of business cards and a rack of “Proud Pagan” key chains. He gripped her around the waist and hoisted her up on the counter, tangling his fingers in her sleek, dark hair as he returned the passionate kiss. “Oh, Sam.” She breathed in his ear as his mouth trailed from her lips, down her neck to the nape where he slowly and strategically planted his mouth, all the while gently unbuttoning the blouse she wore. Lilianna gripped Sam’s broad shoulders with her manicured nails as he finished with the last button and pushed her blouse back to reveal a lacy black bra. “This is new.” He breathed studying it for a moment. “I had a feeling you’d be back before everyone else.” Lilianna whispered, nibbling slightly at Sam’s right ear. “Did you now?” Sam was surprised at this premonition. “No, not really. You can thank Laurel for this move. That foresight of hers can come in handy for other people too.” Lilianna didn’t really want to chat so she wrapped her legs around Sam’s narrow waist and pulled him into her. Sam didn’t bother trying to continue a conversation that Lilianna clearly wasn’t interested in having. He pulled the blouse from her body and tossed it behind the counter, his hands now roaming her back as he replaced his mouth on hers. He raked his short nails over her soft flesh, eliciting a guttural growl from somewhere deep inside his companion. She responded with a playful bite to his shoulder which only made him scratch the surface a little harder. By now Lilianna was frantically attempting to unbutton Sam’s flannel shirt, her body on fire as her fingers fumbled furiously with the plastic buttons. She finally gave up in frustration and with one quick pull; she snapped the last few buttons with a resounding sigh. She pushed the shirt back from his shoulders to reveal the pentacle tattoo over his left peck. How she loved seeing that symbol on his glowing skin. She ran one ruby fingernail over the emblem, closing her eyes as she took in his energy. Sam let her revel in the moment as he finished disrobing his shirt and threw his arms around her once more, lifting her bottom up off the glass counter top. As she gripped his waist with her knees he snapped his finger behind her back, freeing her from her bra in one swift moment. “You’re way too good with that.” She giggled, kissing the underside of his chin as she made her way down to his chiseled chest. “I have to be quick with my hands.” He replied. This notion sent Lilianna’s mind to a faraway place, her head swimming with all the implications. “But I promise I won’t get too trigger happy.” Sam set Lilianna back down on the glass and slowly slid her broomstick skirt up to her thighs. He looped his thumbs in her panties and swiftly pulled them from her body, sliding them over her feet and dangling them in front of her for a moment. Just this pause in the little dance they were doing made Lilianna ache. She watched as he slowly undid his belt, popped the metal button on the top of his jeans, and methodically unzipped his zipper. He brought his body close to hers, leaning in for a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring hers as he maneuvered up against her. “I can’t stand it any longer, Sam, don’t make me wait.” Lilianna’s breath was hot against his neck as she spoke, eliciting little goose bumps that ran down his shoulders and onto his arms. Who was he to keep this from her? Without a word he thrust forward, pulling Lilianna to him in once quick motion. Lilianna let out a deep throaty sound as she felt Sam fill up inside her. The room began to spin, the candles that were still lit all throughout the shop danced as if they were part of the act that was just beginning. Lilianna snapped her fingers and the lights went out in the room; the only thing that lit their passion were the flames from the candles and the heat that had begun to radiate between their bodies. There was no need for words now. The actions that would play through between the two lovers were the only conversation needed. Sam started off slowly, grinding himself up against Lilianna as she held on tight to his neck. She closed her eyes and just let herself get lost in the moment. With what had been going on lately, the tension that had built up inside her had felt almost like it would cause her to combust. But here in this room with just her and Sam was a whole other sensation completely. She could feel the muscles in his back flex with every move. As she slid her hands down to his hips she started to get lost in the rhythm of his movements like the melody being plucked out on an instrument. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t acted on their carnal urges before, but this time it was different. There was no urgency in either of their movements; time was standing still while the two lovers explored one another. Sam reached out and gripped Lilianna roughly around the waist, pulling himself in deeper. Her back arched automatically and she threw her head back, a sound escaping her lips like nothing he had ever heard before. A surge of electricity momentarily lit the lights up in the shop before blinking and going out again. Sam stopped instinctively mid-movement and looked around. The only time he knew the lights to do such a thing was when demons or ghosts were around... “What’s wrong? Why did you stop?” Lilianna panted, momentarily covering her exposed breasts as all the wonderment of the event drained from her body. “Usually that is a bad sign.” He let his grip on her hips slack and her skirt slid back into position as she drew her feet up onto the counter. Sam pulled his jeans up and zipped them, letting the belt slack as he wandered into the far room of the shop over where the Tarot rooms were. Even though he was concerned about the possibility of something sinister going on, Lilianna was more enthralled with his topless figure. His muscles flexed as he came back and reached behind the counter, withdrawing a shotgun he had stashed there for Lilianna’s safety, just in case. He went about his rounds of the room, but found nothing suspicious. No signs or smells of sulfur, no sudden cold spots. If he had had an EMF reader he would have done a quick sweep; he couldn’t be too cautious with what they had been dealing with. “Sammy, it’s nothing. Just a power surge.” Lilianna tried to convince him that all was well, but he finished his march of the perimeter before turning around to see Lilianna, now fully naked, perched atop the counter in a cat like stance. The curves of her body looked so perfect as they glistened with fresh sweat in the candle light. Even though he was still concerned for the flickering lights, he just couldn’t help himself. In one quick movement he was by her side and gruffly flipped her over so that she was face down on the counter. “Saaaam.” Lilianna purred, a feral look in her eyes. In an instant he had let his jeans drop to the ground and roughly pulled her body to him, gently running his hands along her sides until they found their place on her thick hips. He positioned himself at her opening and without any assistance or warning, plunged deeply inside her. Lilianna elicited a moan louder than she may have wanted, but Sam took this is a good sign and thrust slower, deeper. The intense ecstasy that began to rumble inside Lilianna made it hard for her to hold herself up and Sam sensed this. He lifted her up so that her knees were now on the counter as she perched on all fours; he was plenty tall enough to still reach where he needed to. Lilianna gasped at the quick movement, but had no time to protest even if she had wanted to, for Sam had quickly maneuvered back inside her and began his slow thrusting once more. “Oh, Sam.” Lilianna’s voice came out in a hushed whisper. Sam had now picked up the pace and the moves that he made caused all four of her limbs to shake and tremble. She let her face drop to the counter so that she didn’t fall over and let the energy that had now built back up between the two of them take over. Even in the throes of passion, Lilianna took notice of all the crystals that were inside the case that was the front counter. Giant amethyst geodes, quartz globes, and huge chunks of Labradorite and Mookaite glimmered back at her in the candle light. For some reason, even in the moment of intense passion, Lilianna focused her sexual energy on the power centers beneath her hands and face and began to soak up all of their vibrations. The energy radiating from the stones began to make the room hum and no soon after, the lights blinked on and off again. She felt Sam hesitate, but she wasn’t going to let him stop this time. “It’s me, Sam. I’m doing it.” She cooed, her body vibrating with the energy that swirled around them. “You?” Sam grunted, slowing his pace again, but not stopping. “It’s everything around us. The crystals, the herbs, the magical items that resonate here. I am connected with them; we are connected with them. Just take it in, Sam. Let it guide youuuuu.” She drew out the last syllable of the word as Sam’s rhythm changed with the energetic build. He took no time in heeding her advice and the sensation that began to fill the air could only be described as electric. Sam pulled Lilianna from the counter and replaced her with his own hulking frame, pulling her tall body up on top of his as she wrapped her long lithe legs around his waist. She now took the reins and began to gyrate rhythmically against him, raking her nails across the firm muscles of his chest. Sam let out a low deep moan at this and it goaded Lilianna to pick up her pace, throwing her had back in sheer joy. The lights began to flicker again as Sam reached out and gripped Lilianna’s buttocks with his long fingers, pulling her roughly against him as she moved, now thrusting back in response with each swivel of her hips. Without warning Sam lifted Lilianna up and carried her off into the room that held the incense and oils. There, a plush antique velvet sofa was perched in the middle of the room and Sam tossed her down on top of the cushions, lowering himself gracefully on top of her. He nipped at her neck, running his hands all over her body that was now slick with sweat, still suckling at her soft skin. His mouth found the nipple to her left breast and he bit lightly as he entered her again, causing her to yelp from the mixed sensation of pleasure and pain. “I never want this to end.” She whispered as Sam took control again and began rocking back and forth inside her, smooth slow movements that hit all the perfect spots inside her. The lights were now humming as the energy the couple was creating fueled the current in the lines and lit the room up with a soft amber glow. Lilianna could feel herself coming close to release, but she wanted to hold on as long as she could for Sam. She centered herself and mimicked his movements as he pulled her body upright tight against his and the two rocked together in unison. “I love you, Lilianna.” He murmured, burying his face in her hair. “And I love you.” She returned the sentiment. She could feel it swelling inside her. That hot spot filled with all the energy. It started as a little spark in her loins and grew in size. She could tell that Sam was close too as he began to pant, his eyes never leaving hers as the two built up their energy together, matching one another’s movements with a force that rivaled one another. “Sammy, I’m going to—” Lilianna stuttered, not able to finish her sentence as she crashed over the edge of bliss and wave upon wave of sheer rapture washed over here. She felt Sam shudder underneath her as they climaxed in unison and as if to signal their shared moment, bottles of oils and glass containers of herbs shattered around them and the electricity that had been flowing through the room sputtered out as the two were left in the dim candlelight, sweaty and panting. “Oh my—oh my Gods.” Lilianna laughed lightly, brushing her damp hair away from her face. “That-was-amazing.” Sam sighed, pulling Lilianna down next to him on the sofa. A bell tinkled then, giving them not time to cover their shame. “Lili. What in the?” Laurel appeared in the archway of the scent room and stared wide eyed at a topless Sam who had just enough time to scramble for his pants and hide a very naked Lilianna behind his hulking frame. She took note of the mess that was dripping oils and exploded loose herbs. “I’m not going to say anything…but I have a key remember? And I am NOT cleaning this mess up. Cover yourself up before Dean gets an eyeful.” No sooner had Laurel spoke these words had Dean come up behind them. Laurel just shook her head and headed for the stairs. Dean stared at the two for a moment, Lilianna blushing a deep red at being caught naked. “Not fair.” He muttered, and followed Laurel up the stairs. “Next time, let’s try not to break everything.” Sam winked at Lilianna as he threw her clothes at her. “Yes, let’s try NOT to blow up the shop again.” Photo by Niranjan _ Photographs on Unsplash It seemed like forever, but it hadn’t been long. Maybe a few years, but realistically it started long before that.
They had wormed their way into society for centuries without a single soul taking any notice; preying on humans for hundreds of years before they made it happen. No one really knows how they did it, made the sun disappear, but it was a ritual hundreds of years in the making. Society toppled as a result, making humans easy targets for those averse to the sun. It didn’t take long before humans scattered and hid, attempting to ensure their survival. But people fight like they tend to do, supplies became harder to come by as stocks were picked clean and that made it harder to continue to live. Some made it work, however. There were those that found a way to bond together and trust one another, forming small groups, families…even cults as a way to keep their people alive—or control the power over them. It varied on who you encountered. But Saint Andrews church in the pit of London, was a place where people seemed to get along and foster growth between one another, protecting each other from what slithered in the dark. “Everyone is fed. Time to take a break and wind down.” Rogue sighed as she dropped down into a pew situated in the sanctuary of St. Andrew’s church. “We’re running out of meat, you know. I’m sure you know. There are going to be a lot of unhappy carnivores out there in a few days.” Harlow sat back in her pew, kicking her booted feet up on the back of the one in front of them. “Someone is going to have to go hunting. Either that or we’re body picking and tell them that it’s pork.” Rogue scoffed, picking her nails with a sewing needle. Harlow chuckled, “From what I know, pig and long-pig taste vastly different. They’d know.” “We’ll see. I’ll make an announcement tomorrow about a hunting party. It’s going to take days, though.” Rogue commented, rising from her seat to take one next to Harlow. She sighed, relaxing as Rogue laid her head in her lap, “We do what we have to, Rogue, my dear. We wouldn’t have made it this far if we didn’t. Things are just slim because of the snow, but we will figure it out.” “Always the voice of reason, you are. I know we’ll make it. But for tonight, sleep. We ate late and the cold makes me want to tuck in. Niridia should be finished with dish duty, so I’m going to go check on her.” Rogue sat up in Harlow’s lap and slid off the pew. “I’ll go make sure the doors are all secure so we can sleep in peace.” Harlow was right up after her, giving Rogue a knowing glance before the two parted ways. St. Andrew’s was not some simple church. It was in fact a 15th century behemoth that had stood the test of time and weathered the ages quite well until the sun disappeared. It had been a place where men and women had been taken and tried during the witchcraft accusations in the centuries prior and had baptized many a royal baby in its hay-day, but now it stood a shadow of its former self. The front entryway had crumbled during the first waves what Harlow had termed “celestial rains”, where large chunks of rock fell from sky, destroying many buildings and starting quite a few fires all over the city. This left the only other accessible entrance in the old basement down a long dark hall that was scarcely lit. A clock on the wall struck eleven and startled Harlow with its staccato bonging. “It’s eleven o’clock and all’s well.” Harlow spoke to herself with a hushed tone as she walked to the end of the hall and checked the door that led out into the snowy evening. It wasn’t locked. She tried to remember who had been the last one through the door so she could give that person a gentle reminder, when a rustling behind her caused her head to turn to the side, listening intently. Harlow turned the bolt on the door before calmly taking her key to lock the bottom lock when she heard the sound again, but it sounded like it had come from above. If the door was unlocked, there was a possibility something had snuck inside, but it wouldn’t be one of them since they were situated on holy ground. “I can hear you. Better come out and show yourself instead of starting a fight.” Harlow spoke calmly as she whirled around to find an empty hallway. There was no place for a person to hide without her seeing. But there was that tingly sensation in the air that told Harlow something was amiss and needed to be investigated. There were shadowed places in the halls, alcoves where long ago burned candles in candelabras once sat. Someone could have potentially been hiding. There was now a haze in the air, the sconces on the walls illuminating a smoke like fog that hung close to the ceiling. A smell like frying meat wafted down with a cold breeze and Harlow could now hear the hiss of movement across the ceiling and down into a darkened alcove. She could feel herself begin to shake with adrenalin, the thought that something had gotten in and everyone was too far away to yell for assistance had heightened her awareness. Whatever it was, she was going to have to stop it on her own. “Fucking show yourself! I know you’re there; I can smell you burning.” Harlow hissed into the shadows, gripping the silver chain around her waist. A low growl rippled through the air from whatever was crawling along in the shadows and before Harlow could make another command, it was on top of her. Harlow whipped the silver chain from her waist and caught the thing around the neck, spinning its body over her back before it came crashing to the ground. Harlow could see them better at this point and noted that it was a man, an undead man, who was grey in complexion with eyes full of blood and a mouth to match. “You picked the wrong place to hunt, mate.” Harlow clicked her tongue before she dove at the man with the silver chain again. But he dodged and scampered up the wall, hanging upside down from the ceiling like some oversized spider. He reached down with vibrating hands to snatch Harlow by the shoulders, but she was just that much quicker and slipped out of the way before the man came crashing down to the ground. He crouched in front of her, ready to strike like some cornered animal. Despite the scuffle, they must not have been making very much noise because no one came to intervene, but the man was working his way down the hallway and deeper into the church, his skin hissing and bubbling as he went. Even if Harlow didn’t kill him, the faith of the church just might. “I’ll give you one chance to spare your life. Let me open the door and set you free.” Harlow tried to reason with him, hoping to end this peacefully. As much as his kind was a threat to them, this type was somehow both innocent and wild. The freshly turned. The New Borns. It wasn’t his fault. The man cocked his head to the side as if he was listening and considering what she said, but he didn’t respond. So, Harlow took a step back towards the door and the man took a step forward towards her. Her movements had him convinced that he was stalking her as he waddled forward every time she took a step back. He was hunting her. Harlow had made it to the door and fiddled with the bolt behind her…but she still needed the key to open it. “There’s nothing for you here. Go catch a rabbit like the rest of us.” Harlow whispered at the animalistic man as she stalled for time, cautiously feeling for the key in her pocket. The man yet again cocked his head to the side like he was listening, but he had taken a stance that told Harlow he was ready to spring at her without a moment’s notice. She had finally slipped her hand into her pocket, snatched the key, and had it in the lock as the man’s eyes fixed on her, his pupils dilating in anticipation of the kill. She had the door unlocked fully and was able to open it in such a way that the moment the man sprung for her, she was hidden between the door and the wall, sending the man flying out into the snow. Harlow swiftly slammed the door once he was out and scrambled to lock it tight again as she heard the man slamming his body against the door, wailing and snarling in anger and agony. Harlow was worried that since the man actually had the capability to enter the church, that if he were to get the door down, there wouldn’t be much stopping him from ravaging all those that slept inside. She’d have to figure out some way to reinforce it. “When in doubt, refer to the manual.” Harlow talked to herself as she pulled a small leather bound book from the pocket opposite the key. She flipped through the pages before she found the one she was looking for. “Ingredients are…holy water. That’s it? Well, it’s better than nothing.” Harlow noted aloud as her hand dove back into her pocket and pulled out a vial of holy water. She dipped her fingers in the water, her eyes never leaving the manual in her hand as she expertly painted the sigil from the page onto the door, all the while the man banging against the wood. “And then we say a bit in Latin that I really need to commit to memory and place hand in circle,” Harlow followed the steps out loud before placing her hand in the middle of the sigil. It glowed blue under her palm before dimming out and the banging from the man on the other side of the door finally stopped. Harlow sighed, “Well, that wasn’t how I wanted to spend the rest of my evening. Crisis averted, however.” She dusted her hands off and put the holy water and small book back in her pocket. She’d have to tell Rogue about this, but it could wait until morning. Harlow had everything handled. (*) The morning brought routine and Harlow was up before everyone else, prepping things for breakfast. They were getting low on some foods having lost a few chickens to a stray fox a few weeks prior, and eggs were a staple. There was still plenty of flour to make gut filling breads and many jars of beans and pickled goods, but people would quickly tire of that; they were going to have to get creative with their future meals. “We need more chickens.” Rogue whispered to Harlow as the two prepped plates for breakfast. “I’m well aware. We need to wrangle up some people willing to go on a run for supplies anyway. But with this weather, it’s doubtful we will find any live chickens just wandering around out there. We are just going to have to wait for the new batch to hatch in spring and work with what we’ve got for now.” Harlow replied tersely. Rogue pursed her lips in thought, “I’ll talk to people after breakfast and get a party together. But we’re not going to make it during the Golden Hour, most likely. We don’t have a lot of time.” “Then we take the smartest and stealthiest of us to do the run. No mistakes, keep hidden, one with the shadows sort of run. It’s too dangerous otherwise, but we definitely need a bigger supply store.” Harlow returned, stacking plates on a shelved trolley to wheel them out into the sanctuary for their first meal of the day. “We’ll get it handled. One thing at a time, right?” Rogue bumped Harlow with her trolley as she wheeled past her. One thing at a time. That’s what she always told Rogue. Even though there were so many things to get done, it happened more smoothly if they started with one thing at a time. But things were about to pile up. (*) “Alright, Niridia is going to stay behind and tend the fort. Harlow and me are together, Shane and Robin pair off, and then Grunt and Silver as the last group. We break off into pairs and check the houses in and around Langford St. which is just two over. We haven’t picked those yet, but it’s a rich--was a rich area so there may be something good. Look for cellars and any storage area where things could be hidden. Don’t travel further than Dawson and stay low. If you find a large haul, regroup back here in two hours and we will figure out transport later.” Rogue instructed the crew that she had gathered, Harlow included. “Understood?” Harlow asked, making sure that all were on the same page. They were met with head nodding and murmured agreement before the three groups left the safety of the church and split up to scavenge in their own way. “I don’t know how much we’re going to find. We’re going to have to start looking for other groups to trade and barter with.” Rogue made conversation quietly as the two ducked between buildings and hid in the shadows. “Either that or we head out of the city and look elsewhere. It’s a hefty endeavor, but may be necessary. See if we can find cattle for milk and possibly meat, the garden will be heartier next year; we just need a few things to get us started again.” Harlow wasn’t sure how she felt about finding others to help supplement them. The few that they had run into were less than friendly. “Or we need to find others and band together, at least during the winter time. I know you’re wary, but at least consider it.” Rogue returned as they stepped onto the porch of an abandoned house and Harlow checked the lock. She found the door unlocked and opened it, pausing to reply, “I’ll consider it.” The two spent an hour checking several houses before they made it to a few small shops on Langford. They were able to gather some necessities and stacked up blankets and other comforts to come back and get the next day during the Golden Hour. The Golden Hour was a sliver of time at dawn and dusk where the rays from the sun could still get through the darkness and kept all those that feared the sun inside and away from any humans. But they were well past that time at this point. The two brought back what they could and found Grunt and Silver already at the door with their own haul, but Robin and Shane were nowhere to be found. When asked if they had been seen, the answer was no. “We’re going to have to go find them. You two stay behind and get in position in case something undead finds us. Rogue and I will find the other two and bring them back.” Harlow took charge, giving strict instructions to the others. They obeyed and she and Rogue took off onto the darkness to find Shane and Robin. They tried to remember the route the two had taken and soon found fresh footsteps in the otherwise virgin snow. These led them several streets down, further than Rogue had given them permission to go. The footprints ran around in circles after a bit and eventually dead ended in the back of a house, right in the middle of a snow laden garden. Two figures lay in the snow, the white powder the only contrast to give them away. “Fuck. Are they—?” Rogue started with a whisper. “Dead?” Harlow finished, “Looks that way. But then one of the figures coughed and tried to sit up, but his arms wobbled and he fell back to the ground. Harlow rushed forward with Rogue on her heels to help them, finding that it was Shane who was badly injured but still alive. One check of Robin’s neck with the torch told them that it had indeed been the undead; of course, who else would it be? “Try not to move, Shane. Can you tell me what happened?” Harlow asked the man, helping him lay back comfortably in the snow. He sputtered, covered in blood, and choked out, “They killed Robin. Robin’s dead, man.” Rogue patted his blood stained chest as she asked, “We know, mate. Was it one of them?” Shane coughed, arching his back painfully as he groaned out, “More than one.” But nothing more came from Shane’s mouth; no words anyway. Just grunts and growls as he stretched and groaned, panting like a wounded animal. Harlow took Rogue by the arm and pulled her back, unsure of what was going to happen, but she had a bad feeling that she knew. “He’s turning. We didn’t check to see if he’d been bitten too; we just assumed.” Harlow gasped, disappointed in herself. Rogue was quaking as her hand gripped Harlow’s tightly and she replied, “We need to go. There’s nothing we can do for him.” “We can’t leave him, Rogue. We have to try and talk some sense into him somehow. He may be feral now, but maybe we can find a way to feed him and when he’s fully transformed, we can work around it.” Harlow lied to herself. “You know he won’t be the same, Harlow. You know that he’ll try and kill us, kill everyone in the church. We need to run.” Rogue pleaded with her friend as Shane stalked closer. It appeared like he was trying to remember how his limbs worked. “And if we run and let him loose, he will find and kill others. He’ll remember where he lived and he could come after us. We either try and save him—or we kill him now.” Harlow knew what really needed to be done. “Then we should put him to rest. This new lot…there’s no appeasing them, at least not that we’ve seen. It’s like something has chan—” Rogue was cut short as Harlow pushed her out of the way. Shane had finally picked up enough speed to come flailing at them, jaw wide and fangs bared. He was still growling like some wild animal when he swung back around and went straight for Harlow. His hand found her shoulder and he attempted to jerk her head to the side with the other, but she broke his hold with a knee to the gut. Instead of trying again, he turned and went for Rogue who was still on the ground, panting heavily. Her heart rate had to be higher than Harlow’s, attracting Shane as he sprung up into the air and landed right on top of her. Rogue screamed, forgetting how to fight in that moment as she tried to block her jugular. “Hey!” Harlow whistled at Shane, trying to get his attention. He stopped clawing at Rogue and turned to see Harlow holding her arm up, the sleeve rolled back to show a thick red line of blood that ran down the exposed skin. The smell of fresh blood immediately caught Shane’s attention and he left Rogue behind, leaping for Harlow to take her down. But he hadn’t expected her to use this bloody arm as a distraction, sending a rain of holy water spraying all over Shane’s face with her other hand. He screeched in pain, reeling back as he tripped over Rogue. “Out of the way, Rogue!” Harlow hollered, charging at Shane before he had a chance to see her coming. Rogued rolled left and Harlow kicked Shane back, but he somehow managed to snatch her foot and sent her spinning through the air before she landed, cracking her head on a rotting post protruding from the garden. She saw stars, her vision blurred but her hearing keen as Shane snarled in her direction. Rogue was still on the ground, appearing as if she had just tussled with the man again, but now that he saw that Harlow wasn’t quite out of the fight, he came back for her. Harlow quickly scrambled to her feet, the world spinning as she leaned into the post for stability. Shane was now cackling maniacally as he sped right into her, but the laughing was cut short. “Sorry, Shane.” Harlow whispered as the man impaled himself on the stake she had pulled from her harness. The crazed smile on Shane’s face fell grim when he realized that he had met his second death and this would be the last. His sallow skin filled up with color and the fangs set in his mouth retreated under reddening lips. This second death had taken him back to the way he looked before they had gotten hold of him. Shane whispered a silent thank you as the last moments of his life brought him back from the dead for a brief moment before he closed his eyes forever. “Harlow. Harlow!” Rogue’s call was frantic as she stumbled over to her friend. Harlow had lowered Shane to the snow, trying to hide how emotional the whole ordeal had made her. She tried to be the stoic one, the silently suffering, the voice of reason and logic even though she was drowning in years of trauma and pain. But this put a crack in the dam. “I’m alright, love. Shane is at peace now.” Harlow responded, laying him down next to Robin. “Fuck…fuck. What do we do? We can’t carry them back!” Rogue was panicked, trying not to look at the very bloody, very dead men expired in the snow. “No, we can’t. We leave them and send a party out to retrieve them the next Golden Hour. We need to get back safe to do that, so we should probably go. We may have been seen, so follow the Labyrinth.” Harlow gave their code word for the sewers to avoid any further detection. Rogue nodded silently, glancing back at the men before the two slipped back into the shadows to head to the church. How smart she was to run the Labyrinth, or maybe it was paranoia. Either way, it was the best strategy she could have executed considering how right she really was about being watched. Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash Discovering secrets of the past“What if we get turned around again? I still don’t understand how that happened.” Ronan asked Rune after they had gotten far enough ahead to slow down. “Galdr. Vargr mentioned galdr. I just don’t know what that means or where things flipped and we were put back on the path up the mountain.” Rune winced into the shadows beyond the trees for anything that looked off. The sun had just started to come up, affording a little relief, but Rune couldn’t get the thought of Vargr out of her head, as if she hadn’t been privy to many a horrible sight in the last few days. She didn’t want his sacrifice to be in vain, and she needed to figure out how they were getting turned around. Galdr was all he told her, though. And what was that exactly? He mentioned it before when they had been talking about her barrier—he said that she cast her galdr for protection. It felt familiar, but she still didn’t know what meaning it held. The horse kept up a quick speed, but still slow enough for Rune to take in her surroundings. She was lost in thought about galdr and how she used it when she looked out into the woods and noticed that their direction had changed, but they had not. “Stop!” She yelled, lifting herself from the saddle. Ronan obeyed and pulled the reins to a halt. “What? What did you see?” He asked frantically, worried about the possibility of more monsters to fight. “We’re facing the wrong way again. That way leads us up the mountain.” Rune pointed ahead. She was right. Ronan started to notice little landmarks like she had, pointing out that they were now heading in the wrong direction. “How? We never turned the horse around or took a different path.” Ronan was gob-smacked. “Galdr…galdr…” Rune murmured to herself, “Galdr! That’s it. Vargr said that I cast my galdr to protect us. I used magic. Magic is what’s doing this.” Ronan was silent, taking in what she said very slowly. It wasn’t really a surprise, but it was still unfathomable to him. “Ok, so how do we stop it?” Ronan had not the slightest idea of how to fix the situation they were in. “If it’s anything like mine, we need to look for those symbols. In the dirt, in the trees, painted on rocks…something.” Rune started to search around before she even finished speaking. Ronan began to look too; trying to remember what the symbols looked like that he had seen on the ground. He had no idea what they were and he hadn’t even bothered to ask, but it kept nagging at him. “What are these symbols, Rune?” She paused in her search and turned to him, “I think they’re runes or combinations of them. It is an ancient alphabet, one that Erik studied quite a bit, but he never taught me. I always found it strange that whenever I would come upon something he was working on or researching, he would get flustered and clear it all away. I just thought he was eccentric and weird and never gave it a second thought until now. He was keeping something from me.” “But you clearly know those symbols well enough to write them so fluidly like that and without really giving it any thought.” Ronan didn’t understand that part. “Right. But I couldn’t tell you how I know them. Sure, I’ve seen them written on things, but I can’t read them, I don’t know the sound each rune makes or what they mean.” Rune shook her head. But she felt like she was lying to him; she did know these symbols. There was a part of her that was fluent in that alphabet and knew the power the letters held when used just right. She could feel it, but she didn’t want to admit it. The two searched around a bit more, occasionally looking back, or ahead, on the trail for any sign of danger. They saw nothing, but that didn’t matter because they still weren’t able to go in the direction they intended; they were stuck. Rune thought about whom or what would have laid these magical traps and wondered if they were looking too low. Setting up a runic boundary close to the ground, like she had done, was an easy way to get it destroyed and render it useless. If it were higher, though… Rune stopped where she was looking and ran over to her horse, standing just behind his flank. She diverted her eyes slowly upward until she spotted it: strung between two trees on either side of the trail was a symbol comprised of several runes made out of what appeared to be—bone. How had they not noticed that? “I found it.” Rune pointed at the hanging sigil. “Where?” Ronan asked, glancing up to where she was pointing. There wasn’t anything there but vacant space and a few naked tree limbs. “It’s right there. I can’t reach it from here, but I bet I could from the horse.” Rune waved her hand in the vicinity of what she had been pointing at before she mounted the horse backwards. “If we’re being honest, I don’t see a damn thing, Rune.” Ronan really didn’t. He didn’t see what she kept pointing at and even now, as she was reaching up into the sky, her knees squeezed around the flank of the horse, it looked like she was possibly—hallucinating. Besides not being able to hear Vargr, he had been able to prove her wrong about all of her perceived hallucinations, but he had nothing this time. “Hand me that stick over there.” Rune commanded, pointing at a hefty branch on the side of the road. Ronan had no idea what she wanted it for, but he humored her for the time being, even though she had ignored his admission of ignorance on what she apparently saw. He went and grabbed the branch, handing it to Rune as she struggled to make herself taller atop the horse without standing up. Ronan watched her settle her sights on something before she stretched upward as far as she could go, cocked back with the branch and…WHACK! Rune had hit something, something that Ronan just couldn’t see, and she continued to whack at it, an almost melodic tone returning from the object on impact. She finally gave it one last good, hard swing that took her over the side of the horse, but when she did, it was as if a wall of glass had been shattered all around them. Ronan was able to catch Rune before she hit the ground and stood her up as they witnessed the path come into focus in front of them. “Ha!” Rune cried triumphantly, “There may possibly be more, but it’s a start.” “I don’t understand what just happened.” Ronan admitted as he got back on the horse. “There was some sort of strange rune hanging between the trees; looked like it was made of bone. I was pointing right at it!” Rune acted as if Ronan was the crazy one in this and maybe he was… “I seriously didn’t see anything. Not a damn thing.” He shook his head. Rune pointed at the ground below the horse’s hooves at the shards of brittle bone that scattered the ground, “Can you see that?” He could. Ronan could see the remnants of what appeared to be bones lying all around the ground of the trail. He knew that they weren’t there before because their pale color was a stark contrast to the wet, dark mud; he would have noticed them. “Why couldn’t I see that?” Ronan was at a loss. “No time to question it. We shouldn’t have more than an hour’s ride back to town, but there may be more of those.” Rune nudged Ronan’s leg with her knee, still holding on to the branch. Ronan gave the horse another spur with his heels and they were galloping off again, hopefully in the right direction this time. Sure enough, a little ways down the trail, Rune spotted another sigil hanging in the air above the trail. Ronan didn’t seem to notice it at all, but she knew that once they ran under it, they would be turned around again. There was no time for stop and go even though the sun was creeping higher and Rune took her chance as they neared the sigil. She lifted herself up off the saddle, bracing her body against Ronan who hollered out for her to sit down. She didn’t listen, however, and instead grabbed the reins to steer the horse to the left before she leaned out onto the trail and swung as hard as she could with her branch. The sigil exploded, raining down bone fragments all over the trail as the horse galloped away. “I told you there would probably be more.” Rune lowered herself back into the saddle and held tight onto Ronan. “Alright, so there’s a possibility you are going to do that again.” Ronan scoffed as Rune patted him assuredly on the shoulder. Sure enough, she had to repeat the same precarious action three more times, the sigils coming closer together until the last. It seemed like they were almost out of the woods, so to speak, but Rune stayed on her guard in case they came across anything else. But soon they could see the break in the trees that formed the archway to the road into town. They were almost home. “You did it. You’re bloody brilliant.” Ronan laughed out of relief as he drove the horse a bit faster and they leapt out into the sunlight of a late morning. It was still overcast out, but rays of light still broke through the greying clouds. “We’ll celebrate when we’re home. I don’t think I can fully relax until I know we’re locked away safely in the bunker.” Rune sighed through her nose, placing her hand on Ronan’s shoulder as he led them along the dirt road back to home. They met no more obstacles on the long road into the back of town and it was early afternoon by the time they came upon the house. Just the sight of Erik’s house caused Rune to shudder and she instructed Ronan to take the horse around back to an enclosed carport where her gran used to keep her car snow-free in the winter. It would have to do as a makeshift barn and horse stalls; Rune wanted to keep her horse safe, especially since she failed with the other. “Can you grab me those hay bales back by the fence. I’m going to try and make it as warm as I possibly can in here for the horse; I want him close by, just in case.” Rune led the horse underneath the carport and began taking off his bridle and saddle. This space would do, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to keep the horse from wandering off. Ronan returned with a bale of hay stacked on each shoulder and helped her spread one out on the ground and feed some of the other to the horse. Rune then walked over to the garden shed and returned with a wheel barrel full of mulch that she dumped inside the carport and spread it about with the hay. The two left the horse to eat while they went off to the farm behind the house and gathered some more supplies, trying to hurry so that the horse wasn’t by itself for too long. They were able to set up a decent makeshift stable with what little they had. “Alright. That doesn’t look half bad…but how do I keep him safe? There’s no way to lock him in or keep things out and we can’t bring him down into the bunker. I’m not sure what to do.” Rune stood back to survey their work as she spoke. “Same as you did before. What if you painted your prayer on the outside of the stable? It’s pretty flat right here and I’m sure there’s a ladder in your shed we can set up to reach the higher spots.” Ronan suggested. “That’s a good idea; there should be paint in there too. But what’s to keep him from wandering off? I know it’s not like he could get hit by a car or anything, but those Lindworms killed the other horse and if it wasn’t for Vargr, mine would be dead too.” Rune was starting to get emotional, the weight of everything from the past twenty-four hours finally settling in. “Well, why don’t you start with naming the poor guy? You keep calling him your horse, so he at least deserves a name, right?” Ronan asked, gesturing at the stallion that was now grazing in the yard. He was right. Rune kept calling the horse hers, but she hadn’t given him any sort of name. He probably had one before, but she didn’t know what, and she most likely was avoiding naming him so that she wouldn’t get too attached in case something terrible happened…like the fate that Ronan’s horse met. “What about Sleipnir. There was a story Erik told me once about how Odin received his eight-legged horse, Sleipnir,” Rune began to walk closer to the horse as she recalled the story. “Go on.” Ronan urged her. “Well, there was a smith that showed up in Asgard, claiming that he could build a great wall to fortify the realm. He boasted that he could complete it within three seasons and that if he did, his compensation would be the strong and beautiful goddess Freya and the sun and moon. Of course, Freya wasn’t going to have any of that, but the trickster God, Loki, suggested that the builder should receive that which he desired, but only if he could build the wall in just one season and with no one to aid him but his horse. Since Loki is very persuasive, the other Gods agreed to these terms. Of course they had no intention of holding up their side of the bargain because the suggested task was virtually impossible.” Rune was now deeply lost in the story, recalling the pictures in the book that Erik read her the story from. “Of course they didn’t.” Ronan was just as enthralled by the story, perching himself against a tree as he listened to her tale. “The smith agreed to their terms and made them swear an oath on their bargain, as well as to ensure his safety while working in Asgard. The builder set about constructing the wall and the Gods marveled at how quickly it was erected. What was even stranger was the builder’s stallion, Svadilfari. Now, I don’t know how much you know about North myth, but this builder was not a mere man, but one of the Jotnar, a giant. A giant needs a giant horse and that horse seemed to be doing the majority of the work in building the wall, hauling huge boulders over great distances to get the job done. When the winter was only three days from its end, the walls were fortified to be virtually impenetrable by any enemy, and only the stones around the gate were left before the project was finished. Of course, the Gods were not happy with this: they didn’t want to lose their beloved Freya and have the world be plunged into darkness because this Jotun stole the sun and moon. They threatened Loki with certain death for giving them such bad advice, but he pleaded with them to spare his life and swore that he would find a way to prevent the smith from finishing his work in the agreed upon time.” Rune was now gesturing as she spoke, becoming more and more involved in the myth. “Now, I know a bit about Loki, more than just from the comic books, so I can only imagine what he had up his sleeve.” Ronan interjected. “You think.” Rune winked at him and went on, “That night, the Jotun and his horse ventured out into the snow draped forest in search of stones to put the finishing touches on the wall. Along their way, the most beautiful mare appeared, calling to Svadilfari. When the stallion saw her, he became wild with lust, snapped his reins, and chased after her. He spent the whole night chasing this mare down in the forest, and when morning came and he was still nowhere to be found, the Jotun knew that there was no way he could finish the wall on time and win his prizes. The Aesir then paid the Jotun what they thought he deserved—an obviously fatal blow to the head by Mjolnir. Meanwhile, far, far away, Svadilfari finally caught the mare and…carnal things ensued. From that union, Sleipnir was born and gifted to Odin by Loki.” Rune finished her tale with a smile, waiting to see if Ronan understood the punchline. His eyes were narrowed on her as he spoke, “Loki was the mare, wasn’t he?” Rune began to laugh, a good belly laugh, as it all dawned on Ronan; the look on his face was priceless. “Remind me to tell you about the time he tied his balls to a goat.” Rune laughed even harder as she began to walk towards the gardening shed again while Ronan tried to catch up. “By the way, you were panicking about Sleipnir getting out, but you’ve got a fence.” He pointed at the one that they had fed the horses over the day before. Rune ran the length of fence with her eyes all the way to the front of the house where the gate was that she walked through every day of the life that she could remember. She was just so frazzled and all she could think about was the numerous what-ifs in regards to the bad that she hadn’t thought about the fence. This meant that she would have to ward the entire fence somehow which was going to take some considerable time and all she wanted to do was sleep. “I’m just not thinking right now. I’m glad we’ve got the fence, but now I have to ward all of that and I’m just so damn tired.” Rune opened up the shed and went for the ladder, passing it to Ronan before she grabbed a bucket of paint and some paintbrushes that hung above a workbench. They returned to the carport, Sleipnir now lying peacefully in the hay, and began painting the runes from one side to the other, all the while Rune reciting her prayer. It took a minute since she had to climb up and down the ladder a few times, but Ronan helped her along the whole way. When they were finished there, they set about the task of protecting the yard, but Rune noticed something that she had never really given a second thought to. There were metal horseshoes that hung from the front of the gate and along the fence stretching both sides. The shoes had been hammered flat and folded over to create a loop, the ends curled inwards with a spiral. Rune thought it a good idea to check the entire perimeter of the fence, noting that these iron symbols were tacked to the fence every five feet or so all the way around the property. Regardless, Rune painted the same prayer over the gate to the fence for added protection. “Are those part of an already existing barrier?” Ronan asked, running his finger over the horseshoe symbol. “That’s the feeling that I get.” Rune responded, following the fence with her eyes till it ended nearest Erik’s yard. She wondered if he had protection like this on his property too. “So, now that everything is locked down like Buckingham Palace, you want to go inside and get something to eat or just go the feck to sleep?” Ronan slouched a little as he spoke, no longer able to square his shoulders out of exhaustion. “Honestly, I just want to sleep right now. I don’t even want a shower to wash this all off.” Rune gestured at her blood encrusted face and muddy clothes. She felt like she was deflating from how tired every fiber of her body was. Ronan gave her a half smile and threw his arm around her shoulder as he steered them down the walk to the front door. Rune let her mind wander for just a second, her eyes scanning every bit of property to make sure they were protected from all angles. While doing so, she spotted something near the peak of the house, just under the gutters. It was rather high up, but Rune thought she could make out what it was. “Is that a camera?” She stopped walking abruptly and pointed up at the object. Ronan shielded his eyes with his hand and peered up before he responded, “That’s what it looks like.” “How did I not notice any of this?” Rune broke free from Ronan and began to circle the house again, looking all over to see if there were anymore. Sure enough, there were several more placed in strategic places: one facing the backyard, another facing her old bedroom window, one facing her grandmother’s bedroom window, one on the carport, and another on the opposite side of the house that looked like it faced Erik’s yard. “What is all of this? As far as I know, gran didn’t have a surveillance system. We didn’t even have a house alarm; this was a very safe town.” Rune was back at the front of the house, shaking her head as she stared up at the first camera. “I wonder if Erik has them too.” Ronan thought out loud. A lightbulb clicked on in Rune’s mind because of these words. “I wonder if Erik is the one that set these up. He and gran obviously knew things that they never told me and it would make sense that he would find a way to surveil the house since they were worried about—something. If the cameras still work, we could use them to keep an eye out for any enemies.” “Enemies. I feel like we’re in the beginnings of a D&D campaign. I don’t have any good spells and all my weapons are crap.” Ronan looked absolutely broken as he spoke. “Sleep. Let’s try and get some sleep and then start fresh.” Rune reached out and took Ronan’s hand in hers as she led them up the front stairs. “Yeah, sleep. That sounds so wonderful right now.” Ronan nodded, letting her lead the way. Hunted Rune had no idea what time it was, but it was still dark when her bladder awoke her. She really should have gone to the bathroom before they went to bed because the rain was coming down hard now and she most likely was going to get soaked. It didn’t matter though, because she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep with the sensation putting pressure on her pelvis. Ronan was still sound asleep next to her, curled up in his sleeping bag with knit cap pulled down over his eyes. He looked so peaceful and Rune wanted to keep it that way, so she grabbed a flashlight, carefully slipped from her sleeping bag, and pulled her boots on by the door before she flipped her hood up and quietly exited the tent.
What was left of the fire had now been extinguished by the heavy rainfall and Rune couldn’t see a thing without clicking on the torch. She waved the beam around to see where she was going, but noticed that Vargr wasn’t anywhere to be seen; she wondered if he had sought shelter elsewhere. That thought led to the horses, but she felt like she was about to burst, so, she relieved herself first and then went to check on them. But when she came around the side of the tent and flashed the light where they were tethered, she found nothing. The horses and their tethers were gone. How was that possible? The rain. The thought struck her and she realized that they were bare and out in the open, the rain washing away the barrier that Rune had created around the tent and horses. How long it had been gone, she didn’t know, but it appeared that something had taken off with their horses and she feared that it was Vargr. She should have gone to wake Ronan, but glowing lights in the trees caught her attention and she wondered if it was the gigantic wolf; if he had waited patiently till the rain let him in and then absconded with their horses. The rain continued to fall, lightning cresting just above the trees long enough to illuminate the path through the forest. Even though what she saw was in the trees, she didn’t want to leave the safety of the path and get lost in the woods—while it poured—in the pitch dark. What she was doing really wasn’t any safer since she hadn’t let her partner know where she was headed, but she felt drawn to the glowing lights that bobbed in and out of the trees and compelled to follow them. Were they aware of her? Should she call out to Vargr and see if it was him? Something told her that these lights most likely weren’t her friends and most certainly weren’t Vargr, but she hoped that they would lead her to the horses. It was quiet as she walked, save for the steady sound of the rain, when another noise caught her attention: a terrified whiny from a horse. Rune broke into a run, following the sound as the horse continued to cry out in distress. The rain seemed to beat harder the faster she ran and the icy droplets stung her eyes as she tried to carefully pick her way across fallen limbs and other brush that had been thrown into the path by the storm. Everything went quiet for a minute, but she continued to run, listening for the scared cries of what was most certainly her horse. Then she heard it again, a terrible sound that told her the horse was in imminent danger, as she rounded a line of ancient oaks. The path widened into a clearing similar to the one their camp occupied and as she came closer, the torch in her hand flickered a few times before going out. There was something lying in front of her on the ground, but it was too dark to see what. Lightning struck overhead again and Rune could see the glassy look in the eyes that stared up at her. There on the ground was the body of a horse, torn and mutilated by razor like claws as the rain soaked into its lifeless body. She stifled a scream and quickly scrambled for the knife in her boot. Something had killed Ronan’s horse and there was a possibility that it was still lingering in the trees, watching her. Rune was too far away from camp for Ronan to hear her if she screamed, especially over the sound of the deafening rain, but she couldn’t run now. She hoped that her horse was still alive and prayed that it hadn’t been Vargr that had killed the other. There was no other choice for her; she had to stay and fight whatever killed this horse and fight to get hers back alive. “Give him back to me! Give me back my horse!” Rune screamed into the rain, circling around the carcass that lay at her feet. She got no response at first, but then the lights started to appear in the trees, bobbing and glowing brightly despite the downfall of rain that obscured any other light. It was as if they clicked on one by one like her flashlight, hovering several feet off the ground as they watched her. There had to be over a dozen surveying her from the tree line, nonetheless she wasn’t going to be afraid of a few forest sprites. They started to come out of the trees, one by one again, their actual height masked by the way they moved, crawling with their clawed hands across the forest floor on their bellies. Their bodies slithered like snakes as they circled around her and lifted themselves to their full height, arms held out in front of them, ready to strike. On top of each and every one of their dragon-like heads was a crown of three horns, the center one glowing brightly at the tip. “Linnormr.” The word barely escaped Rune’s throat as she tried not to choke. There were too many of them and there was no way that she could run through the grouping with their towering size. Her only option was to ready her knife and scream as loud as she could in hopes that someone heard her. Before she was ready, one of the monsters dipped its head low and gnashed at her with jagged teeth. She struck out with her knife, catching it in the snout, before she drove it down hard into its face. It made a nasty squishing sound when the knife was yanked from its jaw, blood splattering all over Rune’s face. It snarled and growled, whipping its long neck back and forth in pain and Rune cried out as the head came too close to her person. She ducked, losing her balance when she backed into the body of the horse, and fell flat on her backside. She was completely vulnerable in this position and in her panic; she just began to scream and scream, lashing out with the knife in defense. But they never struck. The Linnormr started to make strange barking sounds, guttural cries from deep within their bellies that reverberated off the rocky mountain face. Rune was able to sit herself up, shielding her eyes with her free hand as she watched the serpents retreat in what appeared to be fear, continuing the barking as they disappeared back into the trees. Momentary relief was immediately replaced by fear again when Rune realized that the Linnormr didn’t just leave of their own accord; something much more terrifying had run them off. She got up slowly from the muddy ground and took a deep breath as she turned over her shoulder. She didn’t know what she expected to see, but what met her eyes in the illuminated beam of a lightning flash caused her to audibly cry out in fear. It was the Elk creature, standing atop a ledge on the mountain face above. He was closer, much closer to her now than he had been by the washed out road and even though it was dark, the constant crash of lightning afforded her the ability to see more detail. Even from the height at which he perched, she could still tell that he was quite large, but not nearly as tall as Ronan. Although, the icy cold rain beat down around them, she could see that his chest was bare under his cloak and the skeletal head and animal legs were dripping wet as he glared down at her. “You! You did this, didn’t you!?” Rune barked at the creature. He jerked forward towards her and caused Rune to stumble back, this time looking where she stepped just in case. She still wasn’t going to run though, and she started to get angrier as she inched back towards him. The creature started to move nearer the ledge, hunkering down like he was going to grab the face of the mountain and climb down it like a spider. We need to go…now! Rune heard Vargr’s voice before she was snatched away by wolven teeth, but her focus on the Elk creature never strayed as the giant wolf dragged her out of the clearing, cutting off her visual. He let her down once they were back on the path and Ronan was in sight, mounted atop her horse that pranced nervously in place. “What are we doing?” Rune cried over the rushing sound of the rain. “Heading back into town. Where’s the other horse?” Ronan looked around confusedly. Rune’s mind flashed to the image of the horse’s open eyes, its disemboweled body lying cold in the rain. She choked out the words, “She didn’t make it,” before she reached her hand out to be helped onto her horse. Ronan didn’t know exactly what that meant, but there was no time to question it. He didn’t know exactly what was happening at first, but he had woken up without Rune by his side, went looking for her, and found her and the two horses missing. As he prepared to venture out to find her, Vargr came skidding into the camp with Rune’s horse by his side, the tether clamped in the wolf’s teeth. He seemed frantic, but since Ronan couldn’t hear his thoughts like Rune could, he had to read his movements, and those actions told him that he needed to follow the wolf down the trail in the direction they were originally headed. “What about camp?” Rune asked, squeezing her face close to Ronan’s back “I grabbed everything that I could in the dark before I followed Vargr up the trail. I want to ask you what happened, but I think it’s best we wait until we’re out of the woods.” Ronan spoke over his shoulder as he began to lead the horse back down the trail as fast as the rain allowed him, Vargr following on their heels. They traveled like this for some time, passing where the camp was set up and back down the mountain to the massive fallen tree, treading carefully so as not to have another accident. All the while, Vargr acted as scout, running ahead and then falling back, giving Rune instructions where to move so as to keep them out of harm’s way. The rain had finally slowed, but was still a hindrance as they picked their way down the mountain. The trees around them should have been thinning by that point, but they seemed thicker than ever. After a while, Rune started to recognize certain landmarks even in the dark—they had already been through this way. “Ronan, we’re going in circles.” Rune calmly whispered in his ear. “What do you mean?” He whispered back. “I’m recognizing certain things. We’re coming up on the tree again.” Rune pointed ahead. Sure enough, the tree clearly lay across the trail in the dark. Ronan pulled the horse to a stop, “How is that possible? We’ve been following the trail the whole time.” Galdr. Vargr growled. A sound arose like the rattling of a million venomous snakes as little lights started to blink on in the trees ahead of them. Rune could feel the beasts watching them and her body tensed up against Ronan’s. “Fucking Linnormr.” She spoke through gritted teeth at him, her knife already in her hand. Vargr had come to protect them, but he was only one large wolf against at least a dozen, even larger, serpents. There was no way that they were going to be able to take on all of these monsters on their own. At that moment Rune wished for the Elk creature to show up because for whatever reason, it seemed to be the only thing the creatures truly feared. “What do we do? We’re all turned around and I’m not sure if we go the other way, that we’ll actually get anywhere.” Ronan whispered back at Rune, his arms tense as they held the reins. “Pray that our murderous Elk friend shows up and scares them away.” Rune murmured, watching the lights bob and sway in the tree branches. “You know that from experience?” Ronan thought he understood what she was implying. She just nodded as she buried her face in his jacket, trying to think of a quick solution to their problem. Then it struck her—the symbols and her prayer. The rain had stopped which meant that it wouldn’t get washed away, at least for the time being, and the dirt was soft enough that she could dig deep to stabilize the ward. “Cover me, Vargr.” Rune commanded as she slid off the back of the horse, her knife in hand. The wolf and Ronan watched as she began to carve into the ground, all the while reciting her prayer out loud, “Huginn, Muninn, vertu augun mín. Óðinn, allur faðir gerir mig vitran. Freya stendur vörð um mig. Megi Þór slá þá sem óska þér skaða.” As she circled around the horse, and even broader to encompass Vargr, the wolf stood vigilant. The Linnormr were becoming agitated with each word she recited and each symbol she gouged out of the mud. They started to move closer, one even arching its long neck over the circle, but Vargr put a stop to that immediately with a crushing bite to the neck. The serpent squawked and flopped about, but the wolf made an example of him, shaking his huge jaws back and forth till the head of the Lindworm came clean from its body. This gave Rune just enough time to finish her petition and complete the barrier. “That was a brilliant idea. What do we have in the bags that we can use to defend ourselves with?” Ronan climbed down from the horse, still holding tightly to the reins. “There’s the axe in my bag and Erik’s gun; it has maybe four bullets left.” Rune pointed at the bag slung across the horse’s middle. Ronan plunged his hand into the bag and retrieved the axe and the revolver, cocking the gun before he aimed it at the closest Lindworm. Vargr was snarling and howling at anything that came too close, but Rune was just standing there as they were surrounded by more of the hissing monsters. Her focus was on something outside of the ring of wingless dragons—the Elk creature. He had his furry cloak wrapped snugly around him and he was standing at the highest point of the fallen tree, watching things unfold below. But he didn’t move towards them, he instead crouched down and just…watched. He was clearly a distraction, because Rune almost missed the snarling head that had punched its way through the wards. Its immense jaws snapped and spit as it tried to get at Ronan, but she had enough sense to lash out with her knife, plunging it into the side of the dragon’s head. “The barrier is broken!” Rune crowed as she realized how the Lindworms had infiltrated their circle. The horse had been dancing about in fear and had accidentally trampled out part of the symbols she drew in the dirt. There was too much chaos now and they were either going to have to stay and fight, or find an out and run in the opposite direction. “What should we do?” Ronan ducked as a tail whipped over his head. Vargr was now outside the barrier, pouncing on every scaly limb he could get his paws on, trying his best to diminish the threat. “There’s too many. If Vargr keeps fighting like that, he’s going to tire out and they will overcome him. We need to retreat.” Rune tried to keep her voice calm, but spoke loudly over the sound of screeching Lindworms and Vargr’s howling. Rune glanced back up at the fallen tree, but the Elk creature was nowhere in sight. “On the horse. I’ll turn him around while they’re distracted by Vargr.” Ronan carefully climbed back up on the horse and helped Rune up before he pulled the reins and forced the horse to turn one-hundred-eighty degrees. When Ronan saw a break in the chaos, he went for it, spurring the horse to take off quickly. VARGR! Rune projected loudly in her head, We need to go! But they were already speeding down the trail much faster than they should. Rune turned over her shoulder just in time to see Vargr get swallowed by a sea of Linnormr. |
E.M. MoonStories from the World Wide Weird Archives
December 2021
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