Bone and Feather

Bone and Feather -4- {Names}

Her vision was poisoned with tears as she stumbled wildly through the prickly darkness. She did not know where she was going, nor did she seem to care. All that mattered was that her Father was dead and with him a piece of her heart and soul. Though she had grown up in this sort of world, surrounded by families dying of illness, where every other child she knew was missing a parent, she had never taken much thought to what she'd do if she had lost her own Father. Much less to the hands of her neighbors.

She had no Mother and though she probably should've felt some sort of emptiness because of it, she never had. The word Mother had no meaning to her, for her Father was all she needed. Now he was gone and she was losing herself in the foreign, dizzying haze of the night.

She collapsed onto the ground, digging her nails into the gritty texture of earth, letting her tears water the plants that grew beneath her. After several minutes of wallowing in this sort of vulnerability, she regally stood up, swept the ground off her dress, wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and faced the crooked darkness of the trees.

Fables of this dark, enchanted portion of the forest wove through her village from the crinkled mouths of elders who learned them when they were young. They were not lovely tales, not meant for the delicate ears of princesses. No, these tales were meant for liars, thieves, murderers and for the children of those dark characters, a warning to evil doers.

Now, as Cora found herself in the very belly of it, she couldn't help but feel like one of those pitiful characters that wandered through the tales. The thought made her swallow slowly, for those characters never managed to make it out alive. She drew in a large breath, one perfumed with the thick dampness of foliage, trying to shrug off any more morbid thoughts and started down the first spidery path she lay eyes on.

She crept down the path, a few times her locks snagged on teeth-like thorns that scattered across gnarled branches that hung low over the path. The dark, twisting foliage above her shadowed the yellowed moon, creating a damp cavern-like trail. To say it was dark would be an understatement and her heart shook inside her chest as her mind conjured creatures from the shadows. Despite this, she pressed on, for there had to be something at the end of this path. It was the only thing she could do.

Behind her, a twig cracked under something's weight, the sound magnified in the lonely blackness. She froze, body running cold like the dead and listened to the sound of uneven footsteps crawling closer to her. There was a subtle movement behind a tree, lumbering in the darkness, careening towards her as she backed against a tree, shivering in fear. The fables of this forest swirled in her mind, haunting her, blotting out any logic like ink on parchment.

A distorted angel fell onto the path from the barricade of trees, prickly leaves trapped in swirling hair. Sad gray wings hung from the blades of his shoulders, but not as sad as his hollow eyes. She did not relax though, for this angel--this thing--awakened something within her when she touched him. It had happened before, though every time scared her as much as the first. The experience was difficult for her to describe, for it was a feeling like no other, like a disease descending over one's body all in the blink of an eye. After that sickening feeling overcomes you, emptiness shadows your eyes and you're lost in your own mind. You can't see, can't feel, can't hear and one is like a puppet hung by unravelling strings over the velvety blackness of death. Only when your eyes blink open, do you realize you weren't on the edge death. But even so, your body shakes, your throat closed up and dry and heart racing with fear. Perhaps believing that one dying is far more terrifying than it actually happening, for with death comes release. Or so they say.

When it first happened, her Father had witnessed it. She was a young child, closing in on five years, eating supper by candlelight one stormy night. A sickening feeling dropped down on Cora, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on the hardwood floor of their cottage, staring into the horrified face of her Father. She had no recollection of what had happened and only remembered feeling painful nothingness that terrified her more than anything else in her young mind. Cora's Father, however, was perhaps even worse off--he feared his child's mind was poisoned by a demon. He had heard stories of children flailing their arms like madmen, eyes rolling, saliva pouring from their mouthes and muttering unrecognizable words. When the town had found out, they put those sorts of children to death out of fear.

But Cora's Father loved his only daughter so much, he hid her dirty little secret from the prying eyes of the town. He wasn't sure if he believed in children being possessed, for he was a logical man. But he knew if anyone else found out, his daughter would be better off dead.

Now, as Cora stood in front of the boy with wings, she was scared that if he came closer, she would plunge into that terrifying fit once more.

He watched her with his dark eyes, fingers shaking as she stepped back, wrapping her fingers around a fallen branch.

"Don't come closer," she warned him, clenching the branch in her hand.

The boy did not say anything, only staring at her numbly.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

He remained silent.

"Do you even speak?" Cora yelled, feeling hot tears beginning to brim her eyes. Whatever control she had maintained over herself, over her feelings in the last hour was starting to waver.

A moment of silence hovered between them, magnified by the loneliness of the forest.

"Yes," he whispered, voice hoarse like he hadn't spoken in a long while.

---

He was surprised at himself when the words flooded from his mouth. The sound of his own voice was foreign to his ears. The last time he remembered speaking was years ago, when his voice had the higher pitch of childhood. Now, it was deeper, older, different. Until now, it hadn't occurred to him that he was a stranger to his own self.

The girl glared at him with her steely eyes, clenching the branch tightly in her fist. She looked scared by the way her bottom lip trembled, but the rest of her face did not give the fact away.

"What's your name?" she asked.

Name. He searched his mind for something of a name. It had been so long since someone had called him by his christened name that his clouded mind had begun to forget. Name, he repeated in his mind.

A memory rose to the surface; a man with black eyes, scalpel, needle and thread. The metallic smell of blood. A name whispered.

"You'll be fine Elijah," the voice rang through his mind.

Elijah.

Pushing down the horrid memory, he told the girl.

"Tell me, Elijah, why are you following me?" she asked.

"Because your Father told me to,"

Pain flashed across her face and she dropped the branch as she slid into a crouch, tears pouring from her eyes.

Elijah neared her hesitantly and when he reached a hand out to rest on her shoulder, she lashed out at him. The fringe of her nails sliced across his cheek, instantly drawing blood. She screamed at him, shoving him away from her. She stood up quickly, charging at him with rage possessing her eyes.

"You're the reason he's dead!" she kicked him hard in his side, "If it weren't for you, my Father wouldn't be dead!" she cried, unable to stop the tears that fled from her eyes.

Something stirred in Elijah's body, and with an unknown strength, for he had no cage to bind him, lifted himself off the ground and the next thing he knew, his hands were wrapped around her throat, her eyes now wild with fear. Before he realized what he was doing, a group of people were staring at the two of them with a mixture of confusion and horror cursing their features.

"Holy God in Heaven," one of the women whispered as two young men charged forward, ripping Elijah away from Cora and casting him upon the ground. A sharp pain exploded in his head and the world began to grow dark.

"What in Hell is that?" one of them asked Cora.

Before he closed his eyes, he heard her say, "Something unnatural,"

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Tell me what you think of this chapter.

I'm sorry it was kind of slow, I just wanted to give more background on Cora and Elijah (he has a name now!)

-Laurpog