Cold Blood Beast

4

Everest

Years past by, still, I always looked for her in the village. I searched the frosty dungeons and every village house. But I could never find her, even in the lowest and poorer parts of town where some of the minacious beasts had their wings ripped off their own backs.

Maybe she really was human. I just didn't want to believe it. Besides- no beast would let any human who entered these woods leave unharmed. Let alone alive.

But I had to believe it. Over the years I started to give up and just accepted that she was probably dead. My body mourned her death but in my mind I kept telling myself she was alive.

By 15 years old I already started my last year of school and as Mr. Joghstom got older with hair and wings that started to grey, I changed too. My eyes brightened and glowed stronger. I got taller and my muscles grew. My wings became a richer black and grew longer, like any other boy my age. I started training harder and even had Rutner use a hot pick and ink to create art on my skin. But it only made me think of the girl from seven years ago even more. How had she changed? Was she still as tiny? Fragile? Maybe her life was completely different from mine. Did she still think about me? Or was I just crazy and holding onto a memory I should've let go a long time ago?

My thoughts would go deeper than simple questions sometimes keeping me up all night. Did she grow like me? Grow the way a woman does? Did she ever get a boyfriend as she got older? Was she still a virgin? These thoughts hurt my head and my heart. A small part of me hoped she never had a boyfriend so we could be each other's firsts- for everything. I despised myself for thinking this way since I only met her once.

The idea that I would ever find her, even in another lifetime, were stupid and foolish of me.

By 19, deep down in my heart I never really stopped looking for that girl, refusing to believe she could be dead. I started to hate myself for leaving her in the woods with her father.

By instinct, I found my self still checking every room I went into in case she was there. I knew it was strange and I never told anyone. It felt like I lost a part of myself.

I used to spend my evenings with my mother but as I got busier with my future role, training and my duties. I left her alone.

Our family slowly drifted apart over time. Even though everyone saw us as perfect, I knew what happened behind closed doors. My mother had an affair. And when my dad found out he sent her away, into the dungeon at first so I tried every day to get my father to let her out. He started to whip her and I. His anger coming out in other ways.

This went on for a few years and scars littered my skin. The worst one adorning my neck from my fathers claws. I kept them covered. Always. So no one would ever see. It was too embarrassing that others could see their future king so weak.

But one day, I went to feed my mother. And as I got to her cell in the deepest and darkest parts of the dungeon. She was just... gone.

Days went by and we still haven't found my mother yet. So my father called back all the search teams and held a funeral. Anger settled in me but I was forced to stay silent. I wouldn't let myself cry at her grave. I wouldn't cry to an empty casket six feet below.

Again, everything was just a show to make my father look good. As our village mourned the loss of the queen, which was told her death was from a sickness- no one knew what the real story was.

My fathers physical abuse soon turned into emotional abuse. Before stopping all completely and then by 21, I forced myself to move on. I just never did completely. I still promised myself that I'd never use another girl to forget about her and without even trying I never needed to do that. Because without a doubt it was just always her in my head. She made every other woman in my life seem pointless to love.