He tossed her hand away with gritted teeth. “Ungrateful wretch!”
“You! You are the one who is ungrateful!”
Alric took down a breath of air with irritation.
Before he could speak Nieves barked, “You have no right! Why are you so cruel to the people around you? They’re just friends.” She screamed, “Wilhelm and Rusuto should be together!”
Alric slapped her all too quickly.
She gasped with shock.
“Slave,” Alric muttered in a mellow tone; for some reason he was suddenly calm. “Know your place, peasant. Within these walls I am God.”
Nieves shook her head, letting her hair fall forward like a curtain over her features. “You are not,” she muttered. “One day you’ll die and it’ll all be over.” A thin rivulet of tears slid down her face while she shook with adrenaline.
Alric spun around and headed for the door. “You will be dead before I die. I shall make sure of that, Nieves.” Alric forced open his door and stepped outside with excitement. He couldn’t wait to abuse Wilhelm.
CHAPTER 8
Alric stood amongst the dark shadows.
Wilhelm could only see the weak outline of Alric’s body but that was all he wanted to see. Just enough to know when the pain would come and leave. Alric, though he looked frail, was quite strong and powerful. The curse had left him with all sorts of strange abilities over his cursed family members.
“What does she know?” Alric asked lifelessly and bored.
Wilhelm replied quite calmly, “She knows we are cursed but she doesn’t know what the curse consists of.” His heart leapt with fear—Alric was obviously playing with him for amusement.
“And Rusuto,” stated Alric. “What do you wish of him?”
Wilhelm’s body began to lose its calm composure. Alric would attack Rusuto instead of him that just seemed out of the question. “Alric…” Wilhelm’s words were captured in his throat.
“Then leave,” muttered Alric. “I wish to not look upon you. I do not want you anywhere near this place, Wilhelm. Understand?” Alric sneered in the darkness out of Wilhelm’s view. He’d give them time until he felt they were close enough. Then, with enjoyment, he’d rip them from each other’s arms. He’d kill Rusuto. Wilhelm still needed to take care of Alric, after all.
Wilhelm paused before saying, “You will allow this?”
Alric walked away without a reply. He slid open the shoji door and stepped out to find the daffodils still in full blood. The plum trees that lined the walkways were beginning to lose their petals. He was dreading the upcoming winter but somehow, in the marrow of his bones, he knew that the last few days of his life were going to be fun.
Alric planned on spending his time torturing Nieves as much as he liked. She wasn’t going anywhere any time soon due to the chains and shackles. Of course, this made Alric want to laugh.
Yet, the giggling of someone stopped him in the process of his maniacal laughter.
“Jacob, catch me!” Eliza yelled behind her with a giggling sound—a sound that made Alric’s stomach twist in disgust. “Catch me! Catch me!”
Alric headed down the path towards the two children racing about the field. Eliza was only ten years of age and she’d lived at the main house since birth. She was one of the cursed unlike her older and younger siblings. Strangely, her parents did not want to keep Eliza even though she was kind hearted and gentle—completely innocent compared to most children cursed.
Jacob, also a young child, age nine, was abandoned at Alric’s home. His father had died from heart failure while his mother never wanted to look upon the child’s face again—she had claimed it reminded her too much of his father. He was a shy child, Alric noted through time, only speaking to Eliza if speaking at all.
“Children.” Alric’s cold voice stopped them in their laughter—Jacob hadn’t been laughing but smiling instead. “What are you doing in this part of the garden?”
Eliza pulled her hands behind her back, stretching childishly at the thought she’d be in trouble. “We just wanted to play, sir. We cannot play in the fields today because there is a gathering.”
“Gathering,” Alric thought mildly. He could not recall there ever being a gathering for any form of holiday. In fact, Alric couldn’t even recall what day it was. He knew it was the month of January but the date itself—even the day of the week—was completely oblivious to him.
Eliza nodded her head as if she’d read the thoughts from his mind. “They said Danzig passed away last night.”
“Did they?” Alric gave a sneer of delight.
Eliza laughed a little, pleased that Alric was smiling though she was far too young to understand that his smile was anything but positive. “So, Jacob and I came here to play.”
Alric’s smile slipped and his expression became plain. “In my garden?”
“Well, we thought…” Eliza bit back her words, noticing the dramatic change in Alric’s visage. He seemed rather upset and ready to strike if provoked. “We thought…”
“What?” Alric glowered. “What did you think?”
Eliza gulped down her fear and sputtered, “We thought that since there was a princess in your room you’d be nicer to us.”
The right corner of Alric’s lip lifted a fraction as if slightly amused. “You thought that I’d be nice to you, Eliza?”
The little girl found it slightly hard to reply to this. “No, sir.”
“Are you lying to me, Eliza?”
Jacob wrapped his arms around his companion.
Alric leaned down to them and watched their bodies flinch with fear. “She is no princess, little ones. She is here to kill you in your sleep while you are dreaming. She is a Demon in disguise.”
Eliza’s eyes widened at the thought.
Yet, Jacob shook his head lightly muttering, “She’s a princess.”
Alric, quite used to Jacob’s mumbles, understood exactly what the self-conscious boy had said. “Are you questioning my authority?” Alric was holding himself back from snatching up the boy’s collar.
“She,” Jacob continued, “is a princess.”
Before Alric could lash out at the children a familiar stone-cold voice said his name. The two frightened ones dashed for the cover of the long grasses towards the main entrance of the front yard.
Alric straightened his posture considerably; he was too arrogant to let Bartolemé get the better of him. “What do you want?”
Bartolemé walked to his family’s leader’s side after taking off the brimmed hat from his head. “I came here to tell you about Danzig’s demise. I thought you’d be rather excited about the matter.”
Alric gave a slight smirk to show Bartolemé that he was in fact overjoyed. “One less I have to worry about.”
Bartolemé nodded his head a single time then dug around in the confines of his dark brown overcoat. He pulled from the inner pocket a cigarette and stuck it between his lips after wetting them. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Alric.”
Alric made no effort to respond—he wouldn’t let Bartolemé know he cared.
“Well,” Bartolemé began to say while lighting the tip of the cig. “Danzig did not in fact die from old age as we assumed. He had been definitely poisoned by someone.”
Alric tilted his head; he liked the idea of someone poisoning Danzig but he didn’t like the idea of Bartolemé accusing him of the crime. Alric did like to enjoy poison as a weapon for his victims but Danzig had been a different case. Danzig was one of the cursed and members of the cursed were not allowed to be killed by Alric.
Thus the purpose of Bartolemé—the cop, the mediator, the judge. He was the one who had to stop Alric’s rage when it was inflicted upon his Court of Cursed-Ones. Bartolemé didn’t like stepping in but it was a part of his existence. It was instincts that pushed him forward into the dealings of Alric. The file seemed endless—broken bones, ruptured ligaments, bruises, concussions. You named it; there was most likely a case that started with the name Alric.
“I was at home,” Alric told him with bitter tasting effort. “Ask Wilhelm.”
Bartolemé took down a breath and sighed. “I did.”
Alric narrowed his eyes. “What did he say?”
“I want to see the girl,” he said without putting any more effort in Alric’s suspicion. “She will tell me the truth when I ask her.” That was a sign in itself: Bartolemé didn’t trust Wilhelm’s word in fear that he may lie to help Alric.
Alric turned his head to the side, giving Bartolemé a profile of his face, as if insulted by the mere idea. “You wish to interrupt my life with these insolent ideals that I would dare murder my own Court. Now, furthermore, you wish to enter my home?”
Bartolemé closed his eyes. “It’s my job. You know that.”
“Bastard,” Alric said while heading towards the house. “You’ll be the first I kill when that night comes. Prepare for it.”
CHAPTER 9
Nieves stared at Alric at the entrance of the room. She sat calmly at the edge of the bed trying to understand what was going on. A man, draped in an overly large brown overcoat was standing in front of her talking in a gruff voice. She was drowning out his words, not really caring about anything he was saying.
She wanted to know what Alric did with Wilhelm.
“…which shouldn’t be too difficult,” the man said to finish his explanation.
Nieves glowered at Alric. Alric, glowering just as coldly back, lifted the corners of his lips into a faint smile. She knew he was enjoying her fretting.
“Ma’am.” The man stepped forward then kneeled down. “I just need you to tell me where you’ve been all day and what you’ve been doing.”
Nieves finally looked at him—her eyes seemingly dead. “What? You idiot. I’m chained to the bed. Where do you expect me to go?”
His eyes widened—eyes hidden behind his pepper gray eyebrows. He looked to be in his forties as the wrinkles on his forehead deepened. “Chained?” As his eyes wondered around, she lifted her ankle and showed him the thick shackle.
“Alric?” blurted the man kneeling before her.
Alric simply replied in a monotone, “Bartolemé?”
The man named Bartolemé, as Nieves discovered, seemed slightly surprised by the shackle and chain. He hadn’t thought Alric would actually chain a girl to his bed in order to have her close by.
What did this mean, Bartolemé thought to himself.
“Is there a reason she’s chained like this?” asked Bartolemé in his usual gruff, inspector’s voice.
Alric leaned back against the wall, staring at the roof with a bored look upon his face. “She is not a cursed one. I can do with her as I like, Bartolemé. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to kill her just yet.”
Nieves didn’t even flinch. She felt slightly sorry for Alric but she was more concerned about Wilhelm’s condition. “Where is he?” she blurted to Alric, not pulling her eyes away from him. “Where’s Wilhelm?”
“Dead,” he told her. “Completely and utterly dead.”
Nieves gasped, getting to her feet. “Why? Why would you do that?”
Alric simply smirked with pleasure to hear her sorrow and fear. It made his bones ache to hear more.
Laughter began to tickle his throat but he swallowed it down.
“Dead?” questioned Bartolemé. “You wouldn’t dare kill one of your cursed and be so bold as to admit it in front of me, Alric. Where is he really?”
Alric pushed himself off the wall; he hated that Bartolemé had to ruin his fun. “Why the hell would I know that? I do not keep tabs on his presence everywhere that he may decide to go.”
“Alric?” grumbled Bartolemé.
Alric didn’t like being told what to do. “Do you really want to piss me off tonight, Bartolemé? With Danzig gone I’m a little stronger than what I used to be.”
Bartolemé raised his head, tightened his jaw and lifted to his feet. “I don’t know if you poisoned Danzig or not Alric but when I’m through with my investigation be prepared to hear my accusations.”
Alric let a corner of his lip rise into a smile. “I’ll be different by then. I’m sure the snow will have fallen by the time you find your pathetic results.”
Bartolemé gave a light huff. “I really do hope so.” Without further word he headed for the door with his leather brimmed hat in hand. His boots banged across the wooden floors and down the hallway into nothing but a whisper.
“You’re such trouble,” Alric stated. “Turning all of them against me. I had them so easily trained that if I were to bat an eyelash they’d come running to help me. Now, they are all against me. Even the children.”
“Children?”
Alric glowered at her. “Yes. It seems Eliza and Jacob think you’re a princess come to save them. Bitch. How dare you tell them that?”
Nieves shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” he whispered.
“I’m not,” she replied, gulping down her fear as he took a step forward. “I do not know who they are. I have never met them. Ask Wilhelm! He was in here when I woke up. Ask him! Take me to him!”
A sudden sharp pain entered Alric’s chest. He took down a breath of air, feeling the sudden energy jolt through his body. “No,” he thought with agony. “No, not another attack. Let me be!”
“Alric?”
He clenched his fists with hatred. She was watching him like it was nothing at all. He hated her because she was perfectly healthy and un-cursed while he suffered from outlandish attacks of pain that left him unconscious for days—months and perhaps even years. He wanted to kill her with all his heart of hearts.
†
Alric took in his first breath for what felt like hours—he couldn’t recall how good air felt until that moment. It burned his lungs like acid but it felt soothing to know he was still alive. The sharp acidic pain melted along his lungs until there was nothing left. Death’s grip finally loosened its hold until he was no longer stranded in the damp darkness. It was the sound of a page turning that pried his eyes open.
“Silly dragon,” Eliza whispered to Alric.
He glowered at her from the corner of his eye. “What are you doing here?”
“A servant heard Nieves scream for help and came running.” Eliza placed her head down onto her folded arms. Jacob, sitting next to her, was engrossed by his book. A book, Alric noted, was something he banned from the grounds of the Macter Land.
“What is that?” Alric asked in monotone.
Eliza beamed. “A book! Nieves had it in her room.”
Alric narrowed his eyes. “Where is she?”
“Who?” asked Eliza with a tilted head.
“Nieves. The girl.”
Eliza giggled. “Oh, yeah.” She got to her feet, revealing the sleeping Nieves on the floor. She had a thin blanket covering her frail figure. “We couldn’t find the key to let her go.”
Alric sat up, letting the covers roll around his waist. “How did I get here?” He hadn’t expected to be lying in bed. Normally they left him where he fell. His death was their happiness. It would mean the curse would pass on to the next generation.
“Nieves carried you.”
Alric narrowed his eyes. “She? She carried me? That pathetic weak thing carried me to this bed by herself?”
Eliza nodded her head. “Yep.”
“Is she stupid?” asked Alric completely unaware of how cold he sounded.
Eliza simply smiled and turned to Jacob. “Let’s go play in the garden, Jacob!”
Jacob looked up from his book and placed it on the floor. Without any effort to make conversation, as usual in front of Alric or anyone else not Eliza, Jacob headed toward the Shoji doors.
Alric gave a glance to Nieves with disgust. That girl, he thought, actually touched him. She had placed her hands on his skin and that action alone made him sick to his stomach. How dare she be so bold as to touch The Head of The Macter Family?
He slid o
ut of bed and padded across the floor to where her sleeping body laid. So many wicked ideas crossed his mind but he didn’t act upon them. He was not entirely in the mood for torture—perhaps later. His body felt drained from the cursed-attack and he’d need time to recover.
“How long are you planning on staring at her?” asked a voice that even sent chills up Alric’s spine. A man more wicked than Alric could ever be—in fact, he was his teacher of the wicked arts in torture.
CHAPTER 10
Zeit held a charming appearance that would lure any unsuspecting victim into his grasp. His empty black eyes had seen more death than any person alive—even more than God himself. Zeit, though he appeared normal on the outside, was something all together evil and demonic. It was why Alric had summoned him as a young teen to teach him the wicked ways of life. Alric wanted to know all the tricks of the trade.
“I’m disappointed,” Zeit muttered under his breath.
Alric sat across the table looking bored as he usually did. “How so?”
Zeit gave his typical smirk and placed his back against the wall. He was never the one to leave his back open for attack. He liked being against a wall—facing the door. Of course, no soul could ever “sneak” up on him. It would just be damn near impossible.
“You were always my favorite student,” Zeit said with a jeering smile. “The only one who was able to take his torture beyond its limits.”
Alric did not give any gesture of reply—his face remained dim and unlighted.
Zeit gave a sigh, leaning back and turning his head to the side. “I guess this is the part where I say, ‘I’ll miss you’ but I’ve never been the type for sappy good-byes. I will admit that I enjoyed laughing at your pain.”
Snow Heart Page 6