Stories to Keep You Awake at Night

Darkstar part 4

His​ ​heart​ ​was​ ​pounding.​ ​He​ ​wouldn’t​ ​believe​ ​it,​ ​couldn’t.​ ​His​ ​feet​ ​wouldn’t​ ​carry​ ​him​ ​fast​ ​enough.​ ​The  wind​ ​bit​ ​his​ ​face​ ​and​ ​made​ ​his​ ​eyes​ ​water.​ ​It​ ​wasn’t​ ​true.​ ​It​ ​couldn’t​ ​be​ ​true.
He​ ​needed​ ​to​ ​get​ ​to​ ​the​ ​woods.​ ​There​ ​he​ ​would​ ​find​ ​answers.​ ​If​ ​only​ ​he​ ​could​ ​change,​ ​then​ ​he​ ​would​ ​be  able​ ​to​ ​run​ ​faster.​ ​His​ ​vision​ ​blurred​ ​as​ ​he​ ​ducked​ ​behind​ ​a​ ​bush,​ ​hoping​ ​to​ ​avoid​ ​the​ ​headlights​ ​of​ ​a​ ​car  that​ ​had​ ​just​ ​turned​ ​down​ ​the​ ​street.​ ​He​ ​needed​ ​to​ ​know​ ​for​ ​sure.​ ​He​ ​needed​ ​answers​ ​his​ ​mother​ ​just  couldn’t​ ​give​ ​him.
The​ ​box​ ​had​ ​been​ ​placed​ ​in​ ​his​ ​lap​ ​and​ ​he​ ​had​ ​looked​ ​at​ ​her​ ​with​ ​no​ ​small​ ​amount​ ​of​ ​confusion.​ ​When  she​ ​told​ ​him​ ​to​ ​open​ ​it,​ ​his​ ​fingers​ ​had​ ​gently​ ​trailed​ ​across​ ​the​ ​cardboard​ ​before​ ​removing​ ​the​ ​lid.​ ​It​ ​felt  fragile,​ ​like​ ​it​ ​was​ ​made​ ​of​ ​pressed​ ​onion​ ​skin​ ​instead​ ​of​ ​tree​ ​pulp.​ ​It​ ​didn’t​ ​smell​ ​musty​ ​or​ ​like​ ​it​ ​was  dusty​ ​or​ ​wet,​ ​it​ ​just​ ​felt​ ​as​ ​though​ ​the​ ​contents​ ​had​ ​aged​ ​the​ ​thing​ ​well​ ​beyond​ ​its​ ​years.
With​ ​the​ ​lid​ ​removed,​ ​Elia​ ​found​ ​papers.​ ​Once​ ​more​ ​he​ ​gave​ ​his​ ​mom​ ​a​ ​sidelong​ ​glance.​ ​She​ ​nodded​ ​for him​ ​to​ ​continue​ ​even​ ​as​ ​tears​ ​filled​ ​her​ ​eyes.​ ​Elia​ ​picked​ ​the​ ​first​ ​piece​ ​up​ ​and​ ​opened​ ​it.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​a​ ​letter,  a​ ​letter​ ​in​ ​writing​ ​that​ ​was​ ​similar​ ​to​ ​his​ ​own,​ ​perhaps​ ​more​ ​refined​ ​but​ ​similar.​ ​How​ ​could​ ​he​ ​have known​ ​that​ ​he​ ​wrote​ ​the​ ​way​ ​his​ ​father​ ​had.​ ​His​ ​fingers​ ​traced​ ​the​ ​faded​ ​ink​ ​impressions​ ​on​ ​the​ ​page in​ ​wonder,​ ​before​ ​he​ ​even​ ​realized​ ​that​ ​he​ ​could​ ​read​ ​them.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​a​ ​letter…​ ​to​ ​his​ ​mom.​ ​It​ ​made​ ​him  smile.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​a​ ​love​ ​letter​ ​and​ ​more​ ​than​ ​half​ ​of​ ​it​ ​was​ ​written​ ​in​ ​verse.​ Never​ forget​ ,​ ​Elia​ ​read​ ​more  than​ ​a​ ​few​ ​times​ ​throughout​ ​the​ ​passages.​ ​He​ ​spoke​ ​as​ ​though​ ​he​ ​knew​ ​he​ ​would​ ​not​ ​survive.​ ​​ Never  forget​ ​ how​ ​ much ​ ​I​ ​ love​ ​ you. ​ ​ Never​ ​ forget​ ​ that ​ ​I​ ​ will​ ​ be​ ​ waiting. ​ ​​ Elia​ ​heard​ ​his​ ​mom’s​ ​breath​ ​hitch.  What​ ​had​ ​happened​ ​to​ ​him?​ ​Why​ ​wasn’t​ ​he​ ​here​ ​any​ ​longer?
There​ ​were​ ​more.​ ​So​ ​many​ ​letters.​ ​If​ ​they​ ​had​ ​been​ ​together,​ ​why​ ​had​ ​he​ ​written​ ​so​ ​much?​ ​He​ ​was  afraid​ ​to​ ​ask.​ ​They​ ​had​ ​been​ ​together​ ​for​ ​some​ ​of​ ​the​ ​time​ ​or​ ​he​ ​wouldn’t​ ​exist.​ ​Then​ ​he’d​ ​blurted​ ​it​ ​out  and​ ​regretted​ ​it​ ​the​ ​instant​ ​that​ ​he​ ​did.​ ​He​ ​wanted​ ​to​ ​know​ ​but​ ​he​ ​didn’t​ ​want​ ​to​ ​cause​ ​her​ ​any​ ​more  pain​ ​than​ ​he​ ​already​ ​had.
They​ ​had​ ​been​ ​chased.​ ​His​ ​mother​ ​had​ ​told​ ​him​ ​they​ ​were​ ​hiding​ ​because​ ​of​ ​the​ ​wolves.​ ​Now​ ​she  explained​ ​that​ ​it​ ​was​ ​because​ ​of​ ​four​ ​wolves​ ​that​ ​were​ ​no​ ​longer​ ​wolfen,​ ​but​ ​had​ ​turned​ ​to​ ​demons because​ ​of​ ​tainted​ ​blood​ ​they​ ​had​ ​consumed.​ ​One​ ​of​ ​them​ ​was​ ​to​ ​blame​ ​for​ ​the​ ​curse​ ​on​ ​the​ ​Darkstar  family​ ​line,​ ​and​ ​one​ ​of​ ​them​ ​had​ ​been​ ​responsible​ ​for​ ​their​ ​separation.​ ​Elia’s​ ​father​ ​had​ ​gone​ ​to​ ​draw them​ ​away​ ​and​ ​been​ ​cornered.​ ​He​ ​escaped,​ ​narrowly,​ ​but​ ​was​ ​never​ ​the​ ​same​ ​again.​ ​His​ ​mind​ ​was different.​ ​She​ ​couldn’t​ ​reach​ ​him​ ​anymore.​ ​She​ ​couldn’t​ ​feel​ ​him​ ​through​ ​their​ ​bond​ ​anymore.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​as  though​ ​something​ ​had​ ​stolen​ ​his​ ​soul​ ​from​ ​him​ ​and​ ​left​ ​only​ ​the​ ​shell​ ​behind.​ ​Then​ ​he​ ​began​ ​to​ ​wither  until​ ​there​ ​was​ ​nothing​ ​left​ ​at​ ​all.
She​ ​reached​ ​into​ ​the​ ​box​ ​and​ ​found​ ​a​ ​sketchbook​ ​that​ ​had​ ​pages​ ​which​ ​had​ ​been​ ​worn​ ​soft​ ​at​ ​the​ ​edges. When​ ​she​ ​opened​ ​it,​ ​Elia’s​ ​eyes​ ​went​ ​wide.​ ​All​ ​the​ ​pages​ ​held​ ​one​ ​thing,​ ​a​ ​face,​ ​beautiful​ ​and  frightening​ ​and​ ​so​ ​very​ ​familiar.​ ​When​ ​his​ ​mom​ ​had​ ​turned​ ​away​ ​and​ ​covered​ ​her​ ​face​ ​with​ ​her​ ​hands,  his​ ​fingers​ ​strayed​ ​to​ ​the​ ​worn​ ​paper​ ​and​ ​ran​ ​across​ ​its​ ​surface,​ ​tracing​ ​lines​ ​he​ ​had​ ​drawn​ ​himself.​ ​It  was​ ​unmistakably​ ​the​ ​same.​ ​Then​ ​she​ ​turned​ ​back​ ​and​ ​stole​ ​it​ ​from​ ​his​ ​fingers.
That​ ​was​ ​the​ ​reason​ ​his​ ​father​ ​had​ ​wasted​ ​away.​ ​That​ ​thing​ ​had​ ​stolen​ ​his​ ​soul.​ ​That​ ​thing​ ​was​ ​a​ ​curse  on​ ​his​ ​family​ ​line​ ​and​ ​one​ ​day​ ​would​ ​come​ ​to​ ​him,​ ​would​ ​come​ ​to​ ​do​ ​the​ ​same.​ ​There​ ​were​ ​no​ ​guardians  any​ ​longer,​ ​only​ ​nightmares​ ​that​ ​lived​ ​in​ ​the​ ​forest​ ​and​ ​called​ ​with​ ​honeyed​ ​tongues.​ ​Why?​ ​Why​ ​did​ ​it  feel​ ​so​ ​different​ ​if​ ​that​ ​was​ ​how​ ​it​ ​was?​ ​It​ ​felt​ ​more​ ​right​ ​than​ ​his​ ​own​ ​skin,​ ​as​ ​natural​ ​as​ ​it​ ​would feel​ ​to​ ​embrace​ ​the​ ​change.​ ​Why​ ​was​ ​it​ ​a​ ​curse​ ​if​ ​it​ ​felt​ ​so​ ​right?
He​ ​was​ ​up​ ​and​ ​running​ ​scrambling​ ​for​ ​the​ ​treeline​ ​before​ ​the​ ​car​ ​had​ ​completely​ ​passed.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​just​ ​at  the​ ​far​ ​side​ ​of​ ​the​ ​park.​ ​He​ ​just​ ​had​ ​to​ ​make​ ​it​ ​past.​ ​How​ ​ironic​ ​was​ ​it​ ​that​ ​he​ ​had​ ​to​ ​go​ ​through​ ​there,  a​ ​place​ ​that​ ​was​ ​joyless​ ​to​ ​him,​ ​to​ ​get​ ​to​ ​where​ ​he​ ​most​ ​wanted​ ​to​ ​be.​ ​He​ ​wiped​ ​at​ ​a​ ​tickle​ ​upon​ ​his​ ​cheek  as​ ​the​ ​drawn​ ​image​ ​once​ ​more​ ​flashed​ ​into​ ​his​ ​mind.​ ​He​ ​looked​ ​down​ ​to​ ​see​ ​a​ ​tear,​ ​wet​ ​upon​ ​his​ ​fingers.  He​ ​slowed.​ ​Why​ ​did​ ​it​ ​hurt​ ​so​ ​much?​ ​If​ ​there​ ​was​ ​no​ ​way​ ​that​ ​it​ ​could​ ​be​ ​true,​ ​why​ ​did​ ​he​ ​feel  betrayed?​ ​He​ ​had​ ​to​ ​know.
He​ ​was​ ​right​ ​at​ ​the​ ​edge​ ​of​ ​the​ ​treeline.​ ​He​ ​could​ ​feel​ ​the​ ​temperature​ ​change​ ​in​ ​the​ ​ground​ ​beneath​ ​his  feet.​ ​A​ ​few​ ​more​ ​steps​ ​and​ ​he​ ​would​ ​know.​ ​His​ ​breaths​ ​came​ ​in​ ​sharp​ ​gasps.​ ​He​ ​closed​ ​his​ ​eyes​ ​as​ ​he  began​ ​to​ ​hear​ ​the​ ​whispers​ ​that​ ​emerged​ ​from​ ​the​ ​forest.​ ​The​ ​wind​ ​sang​ ​a​ ​lullaby​ ​as​ ​the​ ​trees​ ​welcomed  him,​ ​the​ ​breeze​ ​sighing​ ​and​ ​turning​ ​to​ ​soft​ ​words,​ ​then​ ​to​ ​his​ ​name.​ ​The​ ​forest​ ​would​ ​always​ ​know​ ​him. He​ ​tuned,​ ​trying​ ​to​ ​understand​ ​what​ ​they​ ​said.​ ​A​ ​warning.​ ​All​ ​at​ ​once​ ​his​ ​eyes​ ​snapped​ ​open.​ ​They​ ​told him​ ​to​ ​run.​ ​Over​ ​and​ ​over,​ ​​ Elia​ ​ run​ .
A​ ​strong​ ​arm​ ​clamped​ ​across​ ​his​ ​chest​ ​before​ ​his​ ​feet​ ​could​ ​move​ ​and​ ​something​ ​soft​ ​was​ ​held​ ​over​ ​his  mouth​ ​and​ ​nose​ ​as​ ​he​ ​tried​ ​to​ ​wriggle​ ​free.​ ​It​ ​smelled​ ​sweet​ ​and​ ​acrid,​ ​unnatural.​ ​His​ ​body​ ​was​ ​failing,  his​ ​eyes​ ​staring​ ​into​ ​the​ ​woods​ ​as​ ​he​ ​couldn’t​ ​resist​ ​the​ ​strength​ ​of​ ​the​ ​one​ ​who​ ​held​ ​him.​ ​There​ ​before  him,​ ​like​ ​a​ ​ghost​ ​among​ ​the​ ​trees​ ​was​ ​the​ ​face​ ​he​ ​had​ ​drawn,​ ​his​ ​father​ ​had​ ​drawn,​ ​the​ ​eyes,​ ​and​ ​then  the​ ​name​ ​as​ ​the​ ​darkness​ ​overtook​ ​him.