Red as Blood || A Snow White Retelling

Chapter Twelve - The Stalker and The Visitant

"You're sure you'll come out then?" I asked him.

He grinned almost childishly, looking very much like he had at dinner. "It's my job, I can't afford not to. Now go, quietly."

I did as I was told, taking the lantern and rounding the large dinner table to get to the door. I thought briefly about taking the time to put on my cloak but one glance at Marcus creeping towards the kitchen changed my mind. I didn't want to be in the house when he confronted Amelia. At least Beck was safely upstairs, if he didn't come looking for me.

"Stay upstairs," I urged him under my breath, sparing a look at the closed door he was behind before opening the one in front of me. The metal latch was as cold as ice, and for a moment I was terrified my sweating palms would stick to it. But as I opened the heavy wooden door a crack, I managed to peel my hand from the metal and slip into the frigid night.

My boots crunched and slid dangerously across the ice as I jogged across the yard to the barn. My fingers were already numbing, the lantern doing little in the way of warmth. The cold air had no trouble sneaking through my tunic and chilling me instantly. Despite how fast my heart was beating, how the sweat was dropping down my neck, I wasn't warming. Hopefully that would change once the barn caught fire.

As I approached the imposing wooden building, I slowed my pace, remembering what Marcus said about a nest. If I wasn't already shaking from the cold, I would've shivered. He didn't say how many of Amelia's children, the visitants, would be in there. But our horses were in there as well, along with some supplies we had taken with us. Could I risk getting them out before I burned the barn?

One peek in gave me my answer.

The door to the barn hadn't been latched closed, and was slightly ajar. Holding the lantern behind me to cover its weak light, I glanced inside. It was dim enough to make it hard to see, but plenty of similar lanterns hung all around the walls and posts of the barn. Hay covered the floor liberally, and I could spot my saddle hanging from a hook near the door. But I couldn't see anything else. No horses, no monsters, not with the little view I had. So I carefully pushed the door open just a bit more, earning a better view, and foul smell.

The coppery stench of blood hit me hard, as if the door was the only thing keeping it back. And the noise. How had I not noticed it before? The sound of gnawing, gnashing teeth. The wet snapping of bone breaking. And a slight hissing in between. The source, or sources I should say, made the scene back in the kitchen look pleasant. The horses laid splayed out on the straw, their blood drenching the golden strands a deep read. And the children, the things, were swarming all over their corpses like ants. The figures, vaguely human were stuffing their faces with the meat and intestines as if they were starving. Some broke the bones, sucking the marrow straight out from it and sometimes chewing the bones themselves. Some were the size of teenagers, others barely the age to be walking. All had wrinkled gray skin, stretched thinly over their knotty bones. Covered in the horse's blood, I understood why Marcus had called it a nest.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my mouth as dry as ash. I no longer noticed the cold clawing at my skin. Tearing my eyes away from the infestation clawing to get one more mouthful of meat, I saw a pile of hay stacked not too far away. Close enough for me to throw the lantern at, although it would take some maneuvering on my part. Well worth the risk.

Holding my breath, I inched the door open some more, keeping an eye on the visitant swarm. At one point one jerked still, its back to me and I froze, heart pounding. Even though it was a child, I didn't want to feel those razor teeth bite into my flesh. It would only take one of them to notice me, and then I'd be swarmed much like the horses.