by Willow Rose
Desperately I ran through the forest towards the castle. I found my mother in the kitchen. She heard me enter and turned and stared at me with a gasp.
“Sami!” she exclaimed startled, almost frightened. “You’re covered in blood. What happened to you?”
Relived that she was alright I shook my head and ran to hold her in my arms. She felt so small, so fragile, like I could squeeze life out of her with my bare arms. I smelled her hair and kissed her cheek.
“I love you, Mother,” I said.
She held my face between her hands and looked into my eyes. “What’s the matter, Sami?”
I shook my head heavily. “It’s best I never tell you,” I said with tears piling up in my eyes.
“Whatever it is, we’ll get through this. Together as a family,” she said. “You hear me? We will help you in any way we can.”
“Thank you, Mother. But this you can’t fix. This I have to take care of on my own.”
She stared into my eyes and I sensed she felt my anguish, she saw my deep pain. I listened in on her thoughts and realized she knew what I was about to do even before I had made the final decision. She knew me better than I knew myself. Then she let go of my face. She turned her back to me and went towards a cupboard. She pulled a small bag out and handed it to me.
“At least let me help you a little on the way.”
I took the bag then kissed her gently on the cheek. I ran upstairs to my chambers. In the room my clothes were on the floor, the rope I had tied myself up with was ripped to pieces and the window open. I looked down at the ground below. There were paw-prints in the snow. Had I jumped into the snow from this height without even hurting myself? How was that possible? Was my desire to kill so big that I would risk my own life? I had never met an animal that was able to jump from a high tower like this and not hurt itself.
Quickly I packed a sack with some clothing and the bag with money my mother had given me. I washed my body and got dressed. With a profound sigh I grabbed my sack and put on a hat. This was it, I thought and glanced one last time at my childhood room not knowing if I would ever return.
Before I left I glanced into the kitchen once last time and watched my mother cooking. There was no time to say goodbye to everyone, or to explain. How could I explain this to them when I didn’t have any answers myself? I hoped they would somehow understand. I hoped she would at least understand, why I couldn’t stay. It was too dangerous for them. I was too dangerous. Last night it was three strangers, but what would I do the day I encountered a family member on my way out? I hardly remembered anything from my nights as a beast. Would I know that it was someone I loved? Would I spare their lives? The woman in my mother’s story certainly didn’t spare anyone. I didn’t dare take the risk. I had to live with whatever I had become. I had to stay away from anyone I loved as long as this was going on, as long as I couldn’t control it.
I sighed deeply, feeling so lonely when I looked at my mother one last time. She paused and froze for a second like she sensed I was there looking at her.
“I love you, Mother,” I whispered just before I walked out the front door and closed it behind me carefully to not make a sound. I was certain I heard my mother’s gentle voice whisper in the icy wind as I began walking.
“I love you too, Sami.”
Not knowing where to go I jumped a freight train and let it take me north as far as I could before sunset, then I got off and found a village in Transylvania. It was a small village outside of the city of Cluj-Napoca, the second most populated city in Romania. It was located next to the famous forest of Hoia-Baciu commonly believed by the locals to be a gate between worlds.
I knocked on the door to the first house I came across. It belonged to an elderly woman. I asked for shelter and showed her I had money to pay for it. She told me she could use a little help in the house, since her husband had been killed a few months ago. She told me I could work for rent and food fixing things around the house and taking care of the animals for a week or two. I didn’t tell her who I was nor did I let her know I was Jewish. I told her to call me Sam and she accepted that. Her name was Camelia.
“Running, are we?” she asked when she showed me inside the stable behind the house. The horses whinnied when they saw me, but I calmed them down by talking to them and touching them gently like I used to with my mare.
“Good with animals, I see?” Camelia said.
“They say I have a calming touch,” I replied.
“Good,” she said nodding. “Very good.”
A bed was put up in one of the booths. Straw was all over the floor. It was perfect, I thought. Perfect for a beast like me.
“We have had several young men like you traveling through our town trying to get away from the war,” she continued. “You’ll be safe here. We don’t see many green soldiers around here. “
“I’m happy to hear that,” I said smiling.
Once she left the stables I sat on the straw-bed. It was hard as a rock, but it didn’t matter since I figured I wasn’t going to sleep much on it anyway. I rose again and stared out a small window close to the ceiling. A huge forest rose in the distance. I prepared myself for the night. I took off my clothes to make sure I wouldn’t rip them. Then I sat on the bed in silence while darkness fell over the village and the small stable. I cried when I felt the pain begin in my skin. Not because it hurt, no because I knew this was my life now, this solitude was my only friend. I was scared. Afraid of what I would do this night. Afraid of my own evil nature.
A wave of excruciating pain rolled over me just before the blackness overwhelmed me. The last thing I heard were the horses neighing.
Chapter 10
“NO!” I YELLED WHEN I regained consciousness. I was sweating and shivering at the same time. It was dark. Pitch black. I was inside a house, sitting up against a stone wall. I felt anxious, afraid. My heart was racing in panic. I heard a door open. I spotted a figure in the darkness. I wasn’t alone. Someone was in the room with me. Where was I? Had I killed again? Who was there with me? I didn’t dare to speak.
The lights went on from a small light bulb under the ceiling and I covered my eyes to spare them the bright light. Finally my eyes became used to it and I looked at who was in front of me. Camelia was looking back at me. She kneeled on the floor. She had covered my body with a blanket. My leg was bleeding. I felt it and wiped the blood away. It didn’t hurt. Camelia kneeled in front of me. She began washing my leg with a wet cloth.
“I knew it when I first looked into your eyes,” she mumbled. “I saw the beast in those eyes.”
As she wiped the wound on my leg it slowly healed. The skin closed up and soon the wound was completely gone. The old woman lifted her eyes and gazed at me with astonishment.
“I saw you leave last night. Caused a lot of turmoil among the horses. I peeked out the window and saw you run. This morning I found you outside in the courtyard,” she said. “You were hurt, badly so I took you inside the basement where no one could see you. I figured you had been in a fight. That someone was after you. You were bleeding from that wound. But now ...”
“What did you see in my eyes?” I asked and grabbed her arm. “You know what I am, don’t you?”
She rose to her feet. I got up and stood next to her. “You need to tell me. You need to help me find out what I am.”
Camelia shook her head slowly. Then she exhaled deeply. “I have seen that look in a man’s eyes before. The hunger for the kill, the thirst for blood,” she said. “But it was many years ago.”
“Who? Who had the same look in their eyes?”
Camelia exhaled deeply. “He was a traveler. Many years ago. Before the first war. He came here and spent a night in the stables, like you. I remembered the look in his eyes when he looked at me and my husband. He wanted to kill us both. I was certain of it. George, my husband, thought I was just crazy. He liked helping people, he liked taking in travelers and hear stories and news from Bucharest. But this one, this man wasn’t here
to tell stories or even sleep. He was here to kill us. I saw it in his eyes. He was craving our blood. When nightfall came I lay awake and listened to him scream and howl from the stables. I locked all the doors and looked out in the back at the full moon. That was when I saw him. The horses acted crazy just like last night. They were whining and neighing. They sense evil, you know. They sense danger. I saw him running out of the stables. Dressed as a big gray wolf, howling at the moon. He was walking at his back legs like a human and he was even bigger than when he was a human. He had huge muscular arms and legs and long hair on his back and neck. Long fangs were sticking out from his mouth, his big claws were ready to rip us all to pieces. Then he began running on all four legs towards the forest and like the wind he was gone. I woke up my husband and we went to the stables to see if the man was there, but he was gone. He had turned into the wolf, I explained to George. I don’t know if he ever believed me, but just like me he knew something was wrong. We ran back and locked all the doors. George slept sitting on a chair with his rifle. I didn’t sleep at all. I listened to the sounds coming from the forest and mountains surrounding our village. Sounds of evil lurking around, killing, spreading fear among the creatures of the forest.”
“So what happened to the man who turned into the wolf? Did he come back?” I asked.
“Strangely enough he never did.” She paused and looked at me. “I never saw him again. As a matter of fact, I still have some of his belongings out in the stables. For several weeks I expected him to come back to get his things, but he never did.”
“But if you were scared of this man, why did you take me in? If you recognized the beast in my eyes like you had in his?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Something about your eyes is different. You have the eyes of the beast, but ... but you also have the eyes of a young, innocent boy. I guess that’s what I liked about you.” Camelia stared at me, then exhaled deeply. “But you must understand that I can’t have you here any longer. Lord only knows where you have been all night and who you have hurt. I really don’t want to think bad about you, so please leave my property before I know what has happened, before I find out why you were bleeding from your leg.”
I sighed. I wanted to leave in order to not hurt her, but I was glad to have been able to finally talk to somebody about this. To share my secret with someone. Even if I still didn’t understand much.
Camelia walked with me out to the stables where I gathered my things. Then she picked up a small sack from a basket on the floor. It was covered in straw. She wiped them away and blew dust in the air before she handed me the sack. “Here you take it. I don’t want his things anymore. You’ll have better use of it, I think.”
I took the sack and nodded. “Thank you,” I said. I reached through the bars and touched the horses. Quietly I whispered goodbye.
The old woman smiled and handed me some bread. She studied me as I talked calmly to the horses.
“Well,” she said. “I guess you are a good boy after all. If the horses see it then so should I. Now get out of here.”
I left the house and started walking through the village, but didn’t make it far down the road before something caught my attention. A turmoil of some kind, almost like an uprising. People were gathering at the town square by the fountain in front of the small white church. They were talking with loud voices, some were even yelling. I felt a pinch in my stomach as I walked closer. A Catholic priest was trying to calm the people down. I swallowed hard fearing this turmoil had something to do with me. As I walked closer I realized to my horror that I was right. On the stairs to the church I spotted a body. It seemed to be the body of an elderly man. I walked closer and gasped when I looked at his face and chest. They were ripped with what looked like claws. He had been bitten as well. People surrounding it had terrified looks. Women were crying, some screaming in fear, men were yelling at the priest telling him to cast out this curse that had come upon their village.
“By our sins we have opened a door for the devil to do this,” the priest said shaking his head in disbelief. Then he began talking in Latin spraying holy water on the dead man.
Suddenly the people in the crowd turned and looked at each other. Next they began accusing each other for having sinned. Some told on each other for infidelity, others for stealing, cheating, blasphemy. Meanwhile I stared at the lifeless body with wide open eyes. I felt the entire village was spinning around me. I was sweating and breathing heavily. Had I done this to this poor man? I asked myself. Was that what I had become? The devil himself taking the lives of innocent people? While the villagers disputed amongst each other and therefore paid no attention to me I backed up with my heart pounding in my throat. This was it, I thought. I could no longer be near people. I had to hide somewhere, where there were no people I could hurt.
I stumbled and fell, got up again, then turned and began to run. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks as I ran as fast as I could, stumbling over rocks, slipping in the snow, but getting up again fixating my eyes only on the forest in front of me. The forest that was going to hide my sin, hide me and the evil growing inside of me.
Chapter 11
But I never made it that far. As I ran towards the forest a car drove up next to me on the old road.
“Going somewhere?” a voice said.
I turned my head and looked into the eyes of a man in a green uniform. He was hanging his head out of the window in a black car. He was smoking a cigarette and blowing smoke in my direction. My heart started pounding faster. On the shoulder he bore the triple cross, the symbol of The Iron Guard.
“Can’t answer, boy?” he said.
I turned my head and focused on the road ahead of me, hoping, wishing they would eventually leave me alone. I was sweating heavily despite the icy wind in my face. I looked in the direction of the haunted forest. They would never follow me in there, I thought. No one ever dared to go in the haunted forest. Everybody was afraid of it.
Quickly I took a turn and left the road. I speeded up and ran as fast as I could across the fields covered in snow. Running became sprinting when I suddenly heard the sound of the car engine behind me.
They had followed me across the field!
Their car was bumping and fighting to cross the piles of snow, but they were getting closer to me. I panted and gasped forcing my legs to run faster and faster, but still they came closer and soon they hit me with the front of their car. My leg made a sound like it was breaking into a thousand pieces before I was thrown into the air and landed in the snow. The car stopped while I tried to get back up, but my leg was badly injured. I couldn’t stand. I moaned and groaned in pain as I fought to get up, but again and again my leg collapsed. Boots came closer and stopped next to my face. I felt the soldier grab my hair and pull me up. Then he took his cigarette and killed it on my cheek. I screamed in pain.
“Bastards!”
They laughed and the soldier threw me back into the snow. It cooled the burn on my skin. I touched the cheek and felt a sore mark. I groaned again and tried to stand, but my effort was in vain. Then he kicked me in the stomach, in the face, and stepped on my back. I felt another man grab me and lift me before I received a wave of punches in my face and on my body. I could taste blood in my mouth. It was metallic.
“Throw him in the car,” someone said.
I felt hands on my body and I was lifted up from the snow. I tried to fight them but it was too painful. My leg was hurting badly. When they threw me in the back of the car and closed the door I spotted my sack still lying in the snow.
Then we drove off.
They took me to their headquarters at the police station in the city of Cluj-Napoca. They searched me and in my pocket they found my mother’s sack of money that they confiscated. I was screaming when they carried me into the cell and closed the heavy door. I banged on the iron door, screaming, yelling, but no one came. Then I fell to the cold floor and started crying, sobbing. The smell in the cell was horrible, the stench of urine from prisoners d
efecating in the corners, mixed with the metallic smell of blood. It made me sick to my stomach and I threw up on the floor.
I don’t know how long I lay on the floor, but I do vividly remember the despair I felt at being completely alone in this world. Maybe I deserved this? I thought. I was a monster who killed people. I deserved to be locked up behind bars. I deserved to be beaten and maybe even killed. I was evil. Pure evil.
The door was unlocked and boots entered the room. I was picked up and dragged to an interrogation room. There was nothing but a chair and a light bulb in the ceiling. No windows, no other furniture.
They placed me in the chair and I realized my leg didn’t hurt anymore. I looked down and moved it carefully. It wasn’t even hurting when I tried to move it. Even my face felt less sore and my chest and stomach were better too. I lifted my hand and touched my cheek where I had been burnt by the cigarette.
The mark was gone!
I looked down at my fists. I closed and opened them. They felt strong. I felt strong.
Someone entered the room. A pair of boots walked across the floor. I lowered my head trying to seem weak and broken.
“So, Sami Margulies,” the man who had entered said.
He stood behind me lighting a cigarette. I remained quiet.
“We have been looking for you,” he continued. He put a gloved hand on my shoulder. Then he leaned over and whispered in my ear. As he did I recognized his voice as the officer who had taken Catalina away that morning at the farm. I lifted my head and felt my muscles tense in anger. They seemed to grow along with my fury.
“Did you really think I wasn’t going to look for you?” he whispered.
Then he walked in front of me so we were face to face. He smiled.