I felt nothing but my own heartbeat. Saw nothing but Sinéad’s pale dress disappear into darkness before the roots knitted across the earth and grew still once more.
Then I screamed. I screamed as I remembered her vanish. I screamed as I remembered Lord Thorne’s arms wrapping around her. I screamed because my useless hands weren’t strong enough to keep her safe.
I lifted the ax over my head and let it fall against the ground.
"Give her back! Give her back, you piece of shit! Sinéad!"
Blood pounded in my head. Rage and tears made my face burn hot.
She was gone. He’d taken Sinéad, taken my sister.
It couldn’t be. Please let this be a nightmare.
My arms kept swinging even as my lungs grew tired. Once, twice, three times, four times …
I couldn’t stop, not now. Not when she could be just below the surface, suffocating beneath my feet as the roots closed around her.
Eventually, I collapsed, choking on the wave of self-hatred blazing a path through my terror. I was weak, and Sinéad was gone because of my weakness. If only I’d been stronger, faster, smarter, I should’ve seen through Thorne’s game and acted before he’d had a chance to lift a finger.
But I hadn’t. She was gone. The ground itself had devoured her right before my eyes and I’d let it happen.
I wiped tears from my face, hating myself even more for shedding them. What right did I have to weep while Sinéad was terrified and alone?
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand with a furious screech.
He’d taken her. He'd taken her, and I'd find her. I'd go north. I'd find his estate and I'd find her and I'd …
What? What would I do?
"Sinéad!" Screaming felt like swallowing knives. "Sinéad! Can you hear me?! Please!"
I held my breath. Begging for sound, movement, any sign. But the forest remained silent. Watching. Waiting.
Everything was so still, it was a miracle I even saw the light gray shape ten paces in front of me.
Standing in the darkness was a massive creature, its arms heavy and long enough to brush the earth as it slowly moved closer. Its skin was pale and rotting, covered in warts and small wounds oozing pus. Its head, adorned with a crown of roses, sat directly atop a misshapen, too-long torso, and it had no features, no eyes, only a large, smiling mouth filled with rows upon rows of glimmering white teeth.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Perhaps I should’ve been scared. But I had nothing left to fear.
Weighing the ax in my hand, I took aim, and flung it across the clearing.
The head lodged itself in the creature's chest and it let out an agonized scream. As it stumbled back, I charged, dodging the swinging arms as I yanked the ax out of its flesh. I skipped out of reach and turned to face it again. I expected to see it writhe in pain and anger, but it simply smiled at me as black blood dripped from the wound, its breathing labored as it made its way toward me.
It ... chuckled.
The creature lunged. I slipped right under its outstretched arm. The strike landed against a pine, shattering the trunk into a thousand splinters. I spun around and swung the ax towards its back with a growl, sinking the blade into the soft flesh, and the creature let out another cry of pain. It lost its footing, arms flailing as it tried to swat me away more than hurt me.
It was injured — but not badly enough to die yet.
It hurtled toward me again. I dodged to the side and it crashed against a tree, too heavy to keep up with my movement. As it struggled to regain balance, I lifted my ax and aimed at the darkness where I expected its head to appear.
The beast swayed. Its breathing filled the silence, nearly drowning out my heartbeat. The wounds wept tarry blood, and the flesh itself seemed to unravel, meat and sinew sloughing off of white bone.
The creature turned, smiling still, and took one, two steps forward.
It did not take a third. The ax struck its shoulder and it stumbled back, falling to its knees with a thunderous groan. I waited as it thrashed and wailed, watched as it yanked the ax from its body and threw it aside. I could’ve left it there to bleed out.
But I had to be certain. Dodging the creature’s desperate swipes at me, I retrieved my ax and faced it a final time. It tried to shield its head with its arms, giggling feebly.
I raised the ax over my head again and let it drop. It was too weak to move or fight back as I pressed the metal further into its bones, gritting my teeth as it gasped. I shoved my fingers into the rotting meat of its non-existent throat. It gurgled as I forced them deeper in to find its spine, and twitched as I used the ax to hack through the bone. Then, with one final tug, the skull came free, its crown of roses miraculously undisturbed. I threw the head deep into the darkness while the body sat there, completely still.
I waited for something. I waited for anything. Perhaps my victory meant Sinéad would be returned to me. But my only reward was the return of the forest’s watchful silence.
How could I let this happen? My little sister — my only friend — was gone, and it was my fault, and I didn’t know where she was or how I’d find her. All I knew was that I’d have no rest, not a moment’s peace until I did. No respite until Lord Thorne was dead and rotting in the very earth that had stolen her in his name.
I ran my clean hand through my hair, squeezing my teary eyes shut as I forced myself to remember the monster that had been sitting in my house only a few harrowing minutes ago. His beauty, his mysterious estate, the way Clara had acted around him, his wings …
The wail of the iron wall that had made him falter, just for a moment.
I could barely see the creature’s headless corpse in front of me — a gray mass swimming in tears.
“Curse it all …”
The wall was supposed to protect us. That’s why they’d built it, centuries ago, to guard us from whatever creatures lurked beyond the Choke. Why had it failed now, when I’d been wandering the north for years? Why her, who’d never done anything wrong? Why not me, the lone trespasser, the easy prey? Nobody would even miss me.
That was Lord Thorne’s mistake; everybody would miss Sinéad.
And I wouldn’t rest until I found her.