FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

46

uuke!"

He didn't turn back. He was looking down at his shadow, spread out before him, made spiky by the grass. It pulsated in time with the blaze at his back, jumping and fading, growing dark again. Shadows weren't supposed to be so clear at night. They were supposed to be all clumped together, indistinct from each other because there wasn't enough light to let them survive on their own.

But this...

There was so much light, even more than on the night of the full moon, so much burning, orange light it was as if the sun itself had birthed a child in their barn.

And he knew who was responsible.

He walked past the front door, around the corner, past the chopping block, headed straight for their guest room window.

It was black.

Luke stopped, suddenly frozen in his tracks. He felt trapped, sandwiched between the dark side of the house and the looming mountain. He could hear the crickets in the tall grass, chirping their songs, egging him on. He was scared of what he might find if he were to press his nose against that glass, but the anger was far greater than his fear. He planted his hands down on the window sill and stared inside, looking past the pale ghost of his own reflection, knowing that he would find that demon doing something. He didn't know what, but he had to make sure. He had to see for himself.

At first he could see nothing, but then the familiar shape of the bed started to form, made huge by the table at its foot and the massive creature lying on top.

He was sleeping peacefully. The blankets barely moved as he breathed.

And he was smiling. Even in the dark, those giant white teeth stood out with perfect clarity, unmistakable.

That's what got to him most of all. Valery, Tim, even Dad were out here crying, watching their barn burn down, the product of years of hard work, and this son of a bitch was smiling...

Luke's claws scratched shallow furrows into the window sill without him even knowing. "You can have your sweet dreams, you bastard," he said, his breath fogging up the glass. "I'll fix that. I'll fix that right now!"

He pushed himself away from the window and made straight for the chopping block. There was a pile of wood neatly stacked up against the wall, and leaning against this stack, perfectly innocent, was their old hatchet - carefully set down with the blade on the bottom and turned to the inside.

So that no one would accidentally get hurt, of course.

Luke grabbed it. The handle felt good against his palm, worn smooth by all the hands that had guided it through countless swings over the years. "I'll do what I couldn't do last night," he mumbled, making for the corner. "I'll finish the job, so you just wait. I'll make you pay, you mark my words, you filth."

He could see the firelight spill around the corner at an angle, making the house's shadow seem sharp and pointy like a blade, and then a new shadow appeared to join the tableau: long, stretched out, bobbing up and down as its owner ran.

Dad, huffing and gasping for breath, his clothes filthy and covered in soot, appeared to bar his way, the fire at his back making him look like a black silhouette against the glare. He was bent over double, with one hand resting on his knee and the other pressed up against the wall, but his eyes were just as sharp as ever, seeing everything and understanding immediately. "Whatcha doin' there, Luke?"

"Get out of my way, Dad."

"Put down the hatchet, son."

"No."

"Luke..."

"No!"

Val and Tim finally caught up, but they wouldn't be of any help, he could see that already. They were looking to Dad to fix everything, to take everything back to the way it was, and who could blame them? That was his job. Too bad he couldn't see what was right underneath his nose.

"Dad..." Luke started, unsure of what to say. The hatchet felt so light and dinky in his hands, nowhere near a proper axe, but it was all he had. "Please believe me."

"Luke, what has gotten into you? We have to keep the fire from spreading, but you're -"

"Banno did it!" Luke screamed, desperate to make him believe. "He's the one that started the fire!"

Tim and Val both gasped, but Dad only straightened up, brushed some of the dirt from his sleeves and asked: "What makes you say that?"

The rational part of him knew to tread carefully here, but unfortunately he was in no condition to have a calm debate after seeing that monster smile so peacefully, so... satisfied.

"It doesn't want me to go to Grovenglen! It doesn't want anyone to find out it's here! It wants to keep us all for itself! It -"

Dad closed the distance between them, walking slowly, but with big strides of authority.

"It- It-" That was as far as Luke got before Dad grabbed him by the collar and roughly dragged him back to the window, jerking him along every time he came close to tumbling over. "Dad! Wh-"

"Look," he said, standing him in front of the window. "What do you see?"

"I see the Wolf, but -"

Dad planted his hands on his son's shoulders much as Luke had planted his hands on the window sill mere minutes ago. "What. Do. You. See?" he repeated, each word a standalone condemnation.

Luke looked again. He could just barely see the Wolf in the shadows. More its shape, really. A lump in the blankets with a streak of white near the top where his teeth stuck out from underneath those black lips. "I see him sleeping, but -"

"There's no way Banno could have gotten outside, started a fire, and then come back here, even if he did have a real reason to do so."

"But he does have a real reason! I'm the reason!"

Dad went on as if he didn't hear. "Who was the one who spotted the fire?"

"I was. I heard Jitters screaming, and when I looked out the window it -"

"How far along was it when you saw it?"

"Not far, but -" Luke could feel the tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes, and he hated himself for it. If he cried now, he'd lose all credibility, but he couldn't help it. Dad could always make him feel like a stupid little kid, a baby who didn't even have the capacity to understand why what it was doing was wrong.

"Time is against us, Luke, but if this is really eating at you so badly then the fire can wait. Let's assume that Banno really did start the fire -"

"But he did! He did!"

"- how fast do you think he'd have to be able to move to get back here before it woke us up? He'd have to cross the distance between barn and bed in less than a minute, something even I couldn't do without running flat-out."

Luke couldn't stand this. It was happening again. Again! He knew that Wolf was dangerous, so why didn't anyone want to believe him!? His own family! He only wanted to protect them, so why was his own father working so hard to deny everything he said!?

"And you're forgetting the most important thing, son," Dad said, giving his shoulder a reassuring little pat. "Banno lost his foot. He's in a lot of pain. He can't get out of that bed, let alone sprint back and forth. Do you understand, Luke? He's a bedridden cripple. He can't get up. He can't-"

"But it was him!" Luke shouted, not caring if that bastard on the other side of the glass could hear him. "It has to be! Why else would the barn burn the night before I was supposed to go into town!? It was him, Dad!"

Dad spun him around and looked him straight in the eye. "Luke, Banno doesn't know you're supposed to go into town. You yourself asked me not to let him find out, remember!?" Now he was starting to get worked up, too.

"He must have found out somehow! Maybe Tim or Val -" Luke strained against his father's grip, trying to break free, but what he saw beyond his broad shoulders gave him pause. Valery, looking so small in her baby blue night clothes, her knees bent slightly inward and her fingers in her mouth, tears streaming from her bloodshot eyes, and Tim, standing still as a statue except for the steady line of blood dripping from his chin. He had done that. To his own brother.

By the gods, this is what it feels like to go crazy, isn't it?

And suddenly Dad's face was right in front of him, blocking out everything else. "Listen, boy!" he shouted and gave him a hard shake. "Banno couldn't have started that fire, not unless he can light a spark from inside that bed!"

"But -"

Dad shook him again, so hard his teeth snapped together. "I need you, Luke! Right now we all need you! So calm down and focus, okay? Can you do that?"

Luke swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. The smell of smoke was getting thicker.

"Okay. You and Tim are going to go and fill more buckets from the well. Valery will haul the empty ones, won't you, sweetheart?"

"Er!" Valery squeaked, suddenly put on the spot. "Yes!"

"Good. Once you've filled up four, I want you boys to bring them to me. I'll be standing between the barn and the house. It's too late for the barn, it'll just have to burn itself out. But what we're going to do is douse any flames that drift down towards the house. We can't let it spread. Can you focus on that one thing for now?"

Luke nodded.

"Good. Now off you go. And mind your brother and sister. All right?"

"Dad, I -"

"Not now, son. Just do your job and do it well. We're all counting on each other tonight."

"Ho- okay."

"Okay."

Valery suddenly sprang to life. "I'll get the buckets!" she yelled and ran off, her baggy nightshirt trailing behind her on this cold, but unnaturally bright night. What would she do once it all sank in? She loved that horse. What would she do once she truly realised that one of her dearest friends was dead? That's how she saw her, not as a dray horse, but as a friend. Right now she was lost in the simple, but crucial task Dad had assigned for her, but once it was all said and done, what then? What would she do once the pain started to gnaw at her already fragile heart?

"Luke, wake up!" Tim suddenly jabbed him in the shoulder. "We've got work to do!"

It took a moment for him to realise that Dad and Val were already gone. They had rounded the corner and might as well have vanished from the face of the earth. That's what it felt like, standing here, in the shadow of their house with the blaze blocked from view, but its hellish glow seeping over the grass like blood. It felt like, if he turned that corner as well, all he would see was the end of the world, a great fiery crater in all of existence. And it would only get worse from here.

This all seemed like too much of a nightmare to be real.

"Come on!" Tim yelled, pulling on his sleeve. "Dad's counting on us! Or do you want the house to burn, too!?"

Luke looked back one final time at that pitch black window. He couldn't see through it from here. It was just a smooth black pane of impenetrable darkness with a white swath of reflected light running right through the middle like a banner. It was the same window he'd seen every month, every time it was his turn to chop wood. For years that window had simply been just that: a window. But now...

"Maybe we should let it burn..." Luke whispered.

"What was that?" Tim asked, still tugging impatiently.

Luke looked at the black window and thought of the creature sleeping beyond, so peaceful, so content. He didn't know how, he didn't know when, but he would kill that thing. That he vowed upon the blood of his family.

"Luke?"

"Nothing. Let's go."