Nobody is stupid enough to venture into unknown territories, except for Ilya. Don't get him wrong! He never meant to enter that mysterious village.
Fate led him there to save, or be saved.
"Peekaboo!"
Beast is a cruel creature that used to be human...
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The blizzard was unpredictable, just like the atmosphere of this town. One minute it was quiet, the next one it whispered behind you like a stalker. But it hasn't screamed, yet.
"When the wind screams, that's when you run," Maggie told Ilya, earlier.
Maggie's boots and Ilya's sneakers crunched the snow beneath them as they walked on heavily snowy roads. The street lights were barely illuminating the empty town now that snowflakes steadily fell like a thousand cotton balls at a time. White clouds of air escaped out of Ilya's mouth, but not Maggie's.
Ilya zipped his jacket all the way up to his neck and pressed his hands deeper into his pockets.
"How long til we get to... where, exactly?"
"An abandoned house by the edge of the town," Maggie answered without looking back at the human boy. "You don't want to piss off these townspeople by entering their homes uninvited, or be their next meal by popping up on their doorsteps, do you?"
"Nope. Nope." Ilya shook his head vigorously. "Definitely, not."
It was quiet again, except for Ilya's heavy breathing. Maggie didn't slow down for him, so he kept going, dragging his feet through the five inches of snow-covered grounds. His cheeks turned red, and the tip of his nose was frosty. The fur around his hoodie protected his face from most of the snow, but he felt as if he was put in a freezer.
"So," he said, breathlessly. "You're a vampire, and your sister is a werewolf."
"Well, we're not technically vampires, but OK," Maggie responded. "And, technically, Martha used to be just a werewolf. Until she got infected and turned into... that thing." She ended her comment with a resentful tone.
"Oh... Sorry to hear that." Ilya took a few curious steps forward until he was at Maggie's side. "What else is out there that I should know of?"
She sent a degrading look his way. He met her gaze with big interested eyes; The human boy really wants to know. She sighed and stared up ahead, never stopping.
"Let's see. Vampires live in houses. Werewolves live in the forest. And then there are the roaming zombies." She raised three fingers. "The moaners. The Shriekers." A finger drew down with each mention. "And the talkers."
Ilya glanced at the lit houses and imagined the vampire families watching TV while sucking on bags of blood. Then his mind replaced the blood bags with his own neck, fully exposed to the family as they sunk their fangs in, with him squirming and screaming. Ilya shivered, and it wasn't from the cold.
He then turned his attention to the forest. The large pine trees were barely visible under the moonlight in this weather. An image of a werewolf pack chewing on the flesh of a dead deer played in his mind. Then, again, the image of the deer distorted and turned into himself, dead and dismembered by their claws in a grisly scene.
A thousand knots twisted in his stomach. Ilya instinctively moved closer to Maggie, his protector.
When Maggie talked about the zombies, Ilya snapped his head in her direction and blurted, "I met a moaner when I first got here, I think, but I don't know about the other two."
Maggie suddenly pushed Ilya's chest and forced him to a halt. She stopped dead in her tracks too.
"Wha—"
"Shhhh," she whispered harshly. "Listen."
They both stood still and didn't make a sound. Ilya tried to pick up what Maggie heard, but all he caught was the sound of the wind howling.
"I don't hear anything," Ilya whispered.
Maggie didn't respond. Her vampirish eyes were too focused on the environment around them, wandering left and right. Large veins bulged around her mascara-painted gaze.
"Maggie?"
He whispered her name for the first time, and that still didn't get her attention. Ilya grabbed her hand and moved it from his chest to an enclosed grip.
"What's going on?"
He pressed her hand, practically begging her to look at him.
"No," she mumbled to herself. "I'm so tired."
"Maggie, come on." His voice quivered. "You're scaring me."
Maggie faced Ilya with a look of despair. Her eyes glistened. Her lower lip trembled.
"I'm so tired of losing people."
A drop of tear strolled down her cheek and froze on her dimple.
"What are you talking about." Ilya smiled through his fear and let out a cute little chuckle. "It-it's just the wind."
"No, boy."
A sad smile formed on Maggie's lips. She shook her head slowly as she watched Ilya's innocent face pale.
The wind howled louder causing Ilya to flinch and glance around.
"The wind is screaming... Look at me, human."
Maggie pulled Ilya's hand until he looked at her. She came closer to his face and cupped it in her palms. Their eyes met, striking blues piercing into Ilya's soul through heavenly green orbs.
She planted a kiss on his forehead, then said ever so softly:
"It's time to run."
Then Ilya heard it; a chilling scream that made his body physically in pain, a scream that drilled his eardrums and sapped the strength from his legs, a scream so raw it felt like fear incarnated.
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