Nightly Howls

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Nightly Howls Page 47

by Madeline Blake


  We stare at each other evenly, as if judging each other for weaknesses and flaws. "Is there really a difference?" I ask softly.

  The silence seems to last for an eternity. And then... I finally remember to breath.

  Jake looks at me, and then slowly he nods. He reaches out his hand and I cautiously take it. "Might as well," he whispers, as if to himself, and then looks at Wes with a guarded expression.

  Although bitter in his expression, Wes moves to be beside Jake. "Guess this is the manly thing to do," he says, and then quickly looks up at me with a slight smile, "or womanly." He places his hand on top of ours, amazing me with his strength and dedication.

  Something warm touches my palm, and I look to the right to see Nico at my side. "I call touching Ella's hand," he says firmly, his joking manner contrasting with his fierce expression. A hint of a smile appears on my face as Nico's support fills me with hope.

  Because I truly believe my words. We must find our peace, or die trying. The pursuit is what makes life worth living.

  Griffin, Yi, and Danae come forward and place their hands on top. We all look at each other, unified by our goals, friendship, and resolution. I count to three, and then we throw our hands in the air, the pointless act having more hidden implications than we could ever possibly realize. I try to send a telepathic message to the Shifters, feeling the effects of my bravado.

  We may or may not be ready. But we're coming regardless. So now... it's your turn.

  * * *

  It's been a long day, but we are finally here.

  The brick walls tower over us, marred by several discolorations, cracks, and various ivy plants that have enveloped entire sections of the exterior. Tall, stone fences encircle the area, and it is cracked and even destroyed in several places. Even the architecture of the castle doesn't seem to be that impressive, with its simple roofing and lack of aestheticism. It doesn't look very intimidating in general, besides the factor of its enormity.

  But as we come closer, I can feel the buzz. It starts in my head almost like a ringing in my ears, but then intensifies into identifiable whispers. "Come," it seems to say, over and over again. There are several different variations, but that single word is easily the predominant element.

  Come to me, and accept your fate.

  Nico falls into step with me, and he leans close to my ear. "Can you make anything out?" he asks slowly. I nod my head, and he frowns.

  "I can't hear anything besides a weird buzzing noise. Griffin said he heard the same."

  "That's strange," I reply, "mine is pretty... disturbing." Nico looks back at me in concern, and I smile weakly. "It's okay. Really."

  "Don't you dare try to shoulder anything on your own, or I swear..."

  "What are you going to do?" I ask slyly, interested to hear his answer.

  "I'm going to punish you, obviously." He says this to incite me, but I'm not falling for it this time.

  "Well, I'm looking forward to that," I smile, and his eyes widen. I unexpectedly like doing the unexpected, especially during a serious time like this.

  My face turns solemn as I return my attention to the matter at hand. I look around the premises, and am surprised to see not a single Shifter. It should have been easy for me to see any of them, but it simply seems like there is no one guarding the castle.

  Perfect timing. Come on in.

  "Guys, I see nothing," I say softly, turning to both look at the others and scan the area behind us. Similarly, I see no one but ourselves.

  "This is pretty strange." Jake walks closely behind us, his nervousness showing through his voice. "Last time I heard definitive whispers. This time I can only hear a loud ringing in my head."

  "Who knows..." I murmur, now only a few feet from the stone rods. We travel along the fence until we reach the arch, which is massive in size and has several strange designs etched into the stone material.

  "Should I go in?" I ask quietly, pondering to myself. Nico grabs my hand as I stand inches from the entryway, encouraging me to move forwards. However, a moment of doubt enters my mind and I turn frantically to face him.

  "Doesn't it seem like they are ready for us?" I ask, to which Nico's expression morphs into something more serious and cynical. "It's like they just gave us an invitation, to be honest."

  "I agree," he whispers back, "but that doesn't mean that we should turn back. Let's be brave... together."

  So sweet of you to accept my invitation.

  I squeeze his hand, the warmth spilling over, and start to walk on the brick pathway. This castle doesn't exactly have a moat, but a plethora of trees, lining the pathway to the point where its boundaries are almost impenetrable. Darkness and shadows fill the area, and I find it hard to see. Clinging to Nico's arm, I try to watch for sudden tremors or movements.

  I can feel the other's nervous attitudes emanating as we reach a few steps that lead to some kind of door. It is near impossible for us to even make out the doorknob because of the scarcity of light. When we finally find the knob, however, the door swings open very easily.

  I've been waiting.

  "What the..." Wes murmurs as a huge, elaborate room greets our eye. Although lit only by the natural light flooding through the windows and a few candles, we can tell that the inside is more opulent than the outside. There are nice bookcases, furry rugs, elegant chairs and a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. However, there also seems to be a mix of old and new fashioned items, which is very strange. For example, in one side of the room is a corded telephone, and on the other side there is a wide screen TV. I balk at the contrasts displayed within the room.

  We all enter and stare at the many items placed throughout the room. There are also several doors lining the walls, each hopefully leading to a different room. Although before the whispers were bearable, it is at this point that the voices are almost to the screams that Jake spoke of. It pounds at my head, the impeding headache overwhelming my thoughts. For some reason, I feel compelled to keep walking to the North end of the room, and then farther East. Nico's hand slips from mine, which immediately throws me off of my concentration.

  "Nico?" I ask shakily, my voice wobbling as I notice that several candles had been blown out. Either there is no response, or I simply cannot hear it due to the clamoring of voices. "Danae? Jake?" I call, to be left only with an echo.

  The inside seems to get darker as I get increasingly nervous. "Anyone? Yi? Wes? Griffin?"

  The silence that accompanies the strange voices makes me feel inwardly cold and wary. I feel a fear unlike most that I have ever experienced in my life. It is the fear of impending doom, looming over me like a tidal wave, threatening to wash away everything in my life that I hold dear.

  Walking over to the faint outline of a door where the voices seem to be the strongest, I place my hand on the doorknob. Although scared out of my mind, I can't seem to stop myself from turning it and finding out what could possibly be at the source. I feel like this is it. I'm... getting closer.

  The door opens just as easily as the first, but I barely have time to look inside before I am startled by... a mirage. An illusion. A fantasy. A fairy tale.

  No one is coming for you.

  A foreign voice reaches my ears, high-pitched and extremely shrill, and it takes a second for me to realize that the scream is my own.

  And then everything turns black.

  The Beginning, the End, and Everything in Between

  The sound of a crackling fire is the first thing I notice when my eyes open. The light aroma of cinnamon wafts throughout the room, although tainted by a heavy premonition that I can't seem to shake, even if I can't quite remember the reason for that mysterious feeling.

  I blink once, twice, attempting to consolidate the whirl of colors into something that more closely resembles solid objects. Just to convince myself that I'm not crazy, I bang my head against the floor, and then woozily roll onto my back.

  "Ouch, that must have hurt," a low chuckle erupts as my vision settles on long s
trands of brown hair that are hanging around my face. Still a little dizzy, I let my hand brush against the hair, and then eventually a firm chin, tracing down his jawline and neck. As if just realizing my actions, I let my arm drop and my mouth open as I finally register who the person leaning precariously over me is.

  "Asher?" I ask him, my hand reflexively reaching back up to touch his cheek.

  "After fainting at the sight of me, I thought your reaction might be a little different. Looks like I was wrong." He smiles weakly, and something about the exhaustion in his expression makes me feel uneasy.

  I sit up, peering around the room. I remember now... Asher was sitting at that dark ebony desk over in that corner, writing something on a strange notepad when I opened the door. As soon as I took my next step he almost immediately lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes glowing with a strange intensity, as if he had been expecting my arrival. I thought he had been a ghost.

  The many bookshelves lining the walls are cast with an eerie glow from both the small candles scattered throughout the room and the fire in the elegant hearth. The carpet seems to grasp at my ankles as I slide towards the wall, trying to gather the strength to push myself to my feet. "Asher," I ask, my voice wobbly, "what are you doing here? Aren't you hurt? Where are the others?"

  He raises one finger to my lips, and I inwardly quiver with uncertainty. "Too many questions at once." Standing up, he offers his hand to me. As I look at him from below, something seems off about his appearance. It isn't necessarily that he doesn't look haggard, or even the slightest bit injured. The problem is that he looks too... calm. Like he knows something that I don't.

  "Answer me, Asher," I say as I accept his help, stumbling to my feet. "Where's the rest of the group? They disappeared earlier... and how long was I out? Why didn't you try to wake me up?"

  "Ella, please," he replies, his eyes gentle. "Don't act so freaked out. They are all fine. And you weren't unconscious for very long. It was only a few minutes. I was waiting for you to regain a little bit of your color back. You lost almost all of it when you saw me."

  "Oh, okay." I breathe heavily, leaning against the bookcase. After catching sight of the plentiful cobwebs lining the corners, I back away and sit haphazardly on the back of a large sofa that was facing the fireplace instead. "You have a lot of explaining to do. How... do you know the others are fine?"

  An unfathomable expression flickers across Asher's face. He blinks a few times and then turns his head as if to shake himself out of something. When he looks back at me, he is gently smiling, making the past few moments seem like a mirage.

  "A gut feeling, I guess." He chuckles softly, although not quite convincing me of his optimism.

  Asher turns and walks over to the fireplace. He grabs a steel rod and starts to prod at the flickering flames, tending the fire. The side of his face is illuminated by the weak light, making it seem distorted. At the same time, I can still sense a comforting familiarity in his face and body to the Asher I know so well.

  "Is something wrong?" I ask him, sliding around on the sofa so that I am facing him. "You seem strange."

  "Do I?" He asks, his voice a little deeper than normal. As he utters those words, he stops suddenly, clears his throat, and then awkwardly fingers the rod in his hand. "I guess I do feel a little strange. But in a good way. Don't worry about it."

  He turns to me, finally, and I notice a lack of symmetry, almost like a trick of the light, in his facial features. "We should be talking about you right now. How do you feel?" His eyes meet mine, and then veer to the right, sweeping across the rows of books.

  "Fine, I guess." I shrug, trying to evaluate my mood. Besides a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach, my body seems fine. It's not what I'm concerned about either. "I mean, I'm really worried about the others. How did you reach the castle, Asher? Are the Shifters keeping you prisoner here?"

  "No. Well, yes. It's complicated," he replies slowly, clearly trying to conceal any emotion. He carefully leans the rod against the wall and starts walking towards me. My heartbeat quickens as he reaches the chair across from where I am sitting. He lowers himself into the seat, crossing one leg over the other, and his mouth moves as he whispers something to himself.

  "What do you mean...?" A myriad of thoughts are swirling around in my head, and none of them make any sense. Things are just not adding up, and the pressure of this room is starting to swallow me home.

  "I'm afraid that I haven't been completely honest with you, Ella." Asher's voice is soothing, contrasting with the gravity of his words. "It's like most interactions I've had throughout my life... so deeply intertwined with lies that I can't even tell you what is true anymore. If any of it can even be counted as such."

  "What do you mean?" I ask him, frightened by his strange demeanor. It looks like he is battling with himself, with his right eye twitching slightly and his hands shaking. The pit in my stomach grows to consume my whole body, and I nervously rub my nails against each other.

  "Where do I even begin?" He asks himself, throwing his head towards the ceiling. The inner debate seems to continue for quite a while. Finally, he decides on something, lowering his head to meet my gaze.

  "To be honest, this is my prison. It has been, for quite a while." He casts a glance across the dark walls, clearly disdainful of his surroundings. "It's a pretty impressive prison though, I must say. There are some interesting rooms scattered around here. Would you like to take a quick look at some of them?"

  He stands up, offering his hand to me. Narrowing my eyes, I cautiously take it, letting go as soon as I am on my feet. His palm felt as hard and cold as ice, and I can't help but wonder how that could possibly be when he was so close to the fire only moments ago.

  I follow him to the door, not quite knowing what to think as he slowly twists the doorknob. As the door swings open, the main hallway appears again before my eyes, still darkened by the eternal night streaming through the glass windows. The silence prevails throughout the room as we walk onto the carpet, leaving a stinging sensation in my chest.

  "No electricity?" I ask, desperate for some hint of normalcy within all of these events.

  He laughs in response, and this laugh feels more real than anything else. "The builders didn't believe in adding it, I guess. Old fashion is the best fashion over here."

  "The builders?" I look around anxiously. "Where are they?

  "This castle is ancient anyways," Asher says, completely ignoring my question. Looking straight ahead, he walks over to a pair of doors and then stops.

  I almost ask him why he is being so evasive, but the sight before my eyes prevents me from doing so. Speechless, I survey the narrow hallway, with the stone walls inlaid with gold and the floors covered in a luxurious, blood red carpet. At the end of the hallway, a magnificent set of doors is present, engraved with a number of strange designs.

  "What is this..." I murmur in wonder, staring at the carpet and waving my foot around in it. My feet seem to sink into its luxurious depths as I imagine myself falling onto it and floating away.

  "This is the most sacred area of the castle. Everything in this world stems from this room." He grabs the handles but holds it closed, turning to face me.

  "How could that-"

  "You'll see. Just take a look." Asher smiles, his eyes softening as we look at each other. He continues to stare at me for a while, I almost frozen as his expression morphs into one of vulnerability.

  "I don't want..." His voice chokes up, his hand turning white against the golden handles. I step closer to him, my own hand reaching for his.

  "Don't want what?" I ask softly, my fingers about to curl over the same handle. At the last moment, he pushes me aside, his eyes narrowing at the movement. His body shakes slightly.

  "I'm sorry," he quickly apologizes. "I had a moment of nostalgia." He quickly pulls the first door open, and keeps it open for me to walk through. "Ladies first."

  When I peer at his face, he seems as if, once again, he has adopted a completely
different expression than he had possessed minutes before. I pass him, and take a look into the vast depth of a room that defies logic in every sense of the word.

  "Asher, what... is this place?" I ask, surveying the walls that are not walls, the floor that seems to be crumbling beneath my feet.

  "I like to call it the core. Pretty nice, huh?" he asks, lifting his arm and flinging it from side to side. "Be careful on the ledge. You don't really want to fall off."

  Yes, he's right. I couldn't really see it before, but now I can clearly make out a ledge, stretching an unfathomable distance into the darkness. I tilt my head to look over a sharp edge, only to see a dark chasm, glittering with nothing but the spark of curiosity.

  Asher comes to me and gracefully takes my hand. "Please take a seat, Ella."

  I whirl around to see an ornate chair engraved with the same designs that decorated the door. The uneasy feeling returning, I slowly lower my body into the seat, wondering how I could have missed such an obvious object in a room that seemed completely empty only seconds before.

  "Do you remember our conversation in the library? You know, when you chose to be awakened?"

  "Yes," I reply, my thumbs rubbing against the sides of the chair.

  "I told you then about the purpose of the werewolf species. It was to defeat the Shifters, who are all evil, terrible beings that exist merely to terrorize humans."

  I nod, unsure of where he is going with any of this.

  "Well, that was not exactly the truth."

  "What-"

  "Some are, to be honest. Many of the most ruthless Shifters travel to Earth on a daily basis to grab their next meal. Others are not even close to what we have encountered on Earth. I know you have seen many of them here."

  "Did you say... next meal?"

  "Wait, Ella. Just let me talk," Asher implores, his eyes searching mine. I fall silent, and after a few seconds he continues. His body straightens as he lifts his arms again. A wash of color begins to appear behind him, painting a strange scene that spellbinds me. As the picture takes shape, I suddenly realize that the room we are in is spherical, with the ceilings and walls slanting into each other, curving around the thin ledge into the vast depths that lay below.

 

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