The next morning, you slowly woke yourself to the feeling of restraints keeping you held to a warm pillow, the cushion rising and falling as it breathed — inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale... Hold on. Your tired gaze sluggishly moved to look at what was holding you captive, eyes widening at the sight of a pair of arms wrapped snug around your waist. A yelp of surprise was suppressed as you allowed the memories from the previous night to sink in.
That's right, I came here after having nightmares of... your mind trailed off like a child wandering astray from its mother in the store, wanting to keep as far away from those thoughts as possible. It didn't matter, the warmth was nice as your eyes closed and the thought of maybe slipping in another few minutes of sleep in Alastor's arms relaxed your muscles.
He groaned, drowsy and filled with a heavy fatigue. His hold on you coiled a little tighter — only for a second — before it loosened once again. "Hmm, are you up, my dear?" your friend drawled quietly, his voice an octave lower than it would have usually been, a light rasp lingering behind his words. It was rather attractive. Perhaps just a little more, you thought to yourself, wishing to bask in his warmth for just a few moments longer. So, you said nothing, simply shuffling a little closer to his body.
The warm breathing that tickled the back of your neck caused your hairs raise, his broad chest rising and falling with each breath he took. The lightest of chuckles sounded from him, still dripping with lingering exhaustion. "Darling, I know you're awake. Come on," he cooed next to you, a shiver snaking its way down your spine at the sensation of his breath against your ear. You said nothing, but your thoughts did. This is weird. Move it. He'll get mad.
"Fine," you mumbled and slithered out of his hold with a weak frown. Alastor's smile growing as he lifted from where he had been laying, his auburn hair was disheveled from a night of sleep. "Were you comfortable?" the man teased with a grin. Turning to face him you stuck your tongue out childishly. "Definitely not."
He smiled.
"You're a terrible liar, my darling."
With an eye roll, you left his room and headed for your own, allowing yourself to get ready for the long day ahead. Whatever warmth that you once held within your body was now gone with the absence of Alastor against you, but it wasn't anything a nice shower couldn't fix. Your legs felt heavy as you hauled yourself into your bathroom and began running the shower, the icy cold air wriggling along your body as you removed your nightwear.
Breakfast could be smelled sizzling in the kitchen the minute you reached the first floor, your nose taking in the mouth-watering aroma as if it were treasure in the hands of a pirate from those children's stories. "Something smells good," you giggled as you entered the room Alastor was cooking in, his gaze flicking to you. "Have a nice shower?" he grinned and moved the pan off the fire, beginning to scrape the scrambled eggs onto two plates. "Yeah. Thanks for letting me stay, Al," you sighed and rubbed your hands along your arms.
"It's not a problem. Bad dreams happen to all of us, and sometimes it's better to have someone next to you, helping you through the night," he chuckled. "My mother was always there for me when I was younger. Seeing you so shaken up last night must have brought those memories back." A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, your head resting against Alastor's shoulder.
-
Horses scampered down the roads with carriages trailing behind them, the lampposts decorated with wreaths and mistletoe as the candles burned away within their glass casings. Children ran about throwing snowballs while the adults smoked on benches, chatting about the daily paper and Christmas plans. Alastor had nearly stepped on a pair of young twins running around with candy canes in their hands, their joyful giggles making your heart warm.
"Children are so precious," you sighed as you kept your pace, Alastor's eyes moving to gaze at you. "Depends. Some grow up to be bad people. Plus, they're a pain to take care of." You knew he was referring to Jeremy and Damien, your hands moving into your pockets. "Yeah, I guess so." A horse trotted by you and Alastor, the sound of its hooves clopping rhythmically against the snow-cleared roads allowing a sense of relaxation to wash over you.
"Thanks for inviting me to the festival," you started a new conversation, Al's grin doubling in size. "There's no one I'd rather spend the day with!" He threw an arm around your shoulder and led you down the street, his strides slowing as he took your hand and twirled you around, finishing the small maneuver by dipping you lowly. "Not a single soul," he purred, eyelids lowering as his face slowly moved closer to yours.
"Alastor!!" A cry of joy caused the man to shoot up from where he had been holding you, smoothly pulling you to your feet and turning to face the stranger; your cheeks were burning as he did. A plump woman with pasty white skin and a blonde bob cut came scurrying over to your friend before jumping into his arms, Alastor stumbling back in surprise. "I didn't expect to see you here, sugar!" she said in a southern accent, which ended up sounding like "I din't expect ta see ya heea, suga!" The brunette chuckled and set the petite woman down, a short dress peeking out from just beneath her coat.
"Ah, Mimzy! To what do I owe the pleasure?" he greeted with a smile, your eyes falling to the pavement while you waited behind Alastor. "I was just walking down here to get some coffee and beignets! But now that you're here, maybe you'd like to join me?" she took your friend's large, gloved hand in to her small one while she bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet.
"That would be wonderful, but I'm afraid (Y/n) and I already had breakfast this morning — the cafés would have been too packed to settle down for a coffee," Alastor dismissed the offer with a kind wave of his hand, Mimzy's happy demeanor quelling in the slightest at the mention of your name. "(Y/n)?" A wave of discomfort fell over you at the mildly hostile tone in her voice. Had you done something wrong?
The radio host jumped at the opportunity to answer that question, his smile brightening. "How foolish of me! I've never introduced you!" he guffawed and turned to face you, taking your arm and pulling you beside him. "Mimzy, this is my friend, (Y/n)! I'm sure I've mentioned her a few times before," his voice trailed off as he presented you to the lady, her brow raising and a small scowl settling on her red lips. "Hi, I'm-"
"Alastor, can I have a quick word with you?" Mimzy interrupted before you could get another syllable out, taking your friend's arm and dragging him into a nearby alleyway while you stood cluelessly outside of a small clothing shop.
You were confused. But who wouldn't be? Most of all though, you were hurt. She hadn't said anything against you, yet she still passively gave off this air that she held no liking to you at all, and you had just met her. Sighing, you entered the clothes shop while you waited for Alastor, wanting to be out of the cold weather.
"Is this the lady you've been spouting incessantly about for the past month or two?" Mimzy hissed once the two were out of earshot. Alastor nodded enthusiastically, "Isn't she wonderful? I don't think I've ever been so happy about being friends with someone!" The blonde glared at him. "Alastor, you said she was a pass time! A plaything! Something for your entertainment!" she threw her small arms up as she continued. "You cannot be getting attached!"
"Frankly, I don't see what the issue is," he shrugged and pulled a cigarette from the pack in his coat pocket, a shadowy hand cupping over the end of it until it began to burn then vanishing into nothing as Alastor lifted the gasper to his lips, taking a deep drag. Smoke spilled from his lips after he exhaled, his grin small. "She really is the bee's knees. I mean," he laughed, "have you seen what she looks like when she sneezes? Absolutely adorable!"
"Alastor!" Mimzy barked, grabbing Alastor's bowtie and forcefully pulling him down to her height. "What's gone through your noggin!? You know what you are! Or have you forgotten what happened all those years ago; forgotten why you're the way you are?" The man pulled the smoke away from his mouth again, rolling his eyes. "You know I've always had a lust for blood ever since my father..."
"I'm not talking about your bloodlust, James!" she whisper-yelled, aware of the people on the street.
Alastor's eyes went wide. "Don't call me by my middle name, Mimzy!" he sneered. "I'll call you however I want! My point is that you didn't have a tongue for human until about four years ago, when you were in the woods!" His pupils constricted at that memory; another breath of smoke being released from his lungs.
-
The swamp was heavy with fog, Alastor's strides carefully placed as he lugged the body towards a safe burial ground. The woodland bog he was in — Serpent's Eye Bayou, as the old Manbos had called it after Damballa, though it was now more commonly known as Black Cry's Swamp among the locals — was humid as ever, given the harsh summer weather they had, down in the south. But he couldn't get caught with this, he needed to be careful.
The Haitians often rumored legends of a Wendigo lurking in these woods, guarding their old ritual grounds. It was an unsettling thought, but Alastor never held any beliefs of such. Of course, there were the Loa, but that was different. They weren't fifty foot tall beasts lumbering around in the depths of the woods, searching for trespassers. And even if he were to come upon this fearful creature, he wasn't a trespasser, meaning he should be safe.
A shrill, mind shredding cry broke out through the trees, causing Alastor to jump. It echoed for what seemed like hours, another shriek ringing through the darkness of the bog. He remembered Zandor telling him how there were often sounds heard in these parts, the trees and thick air causing a distortion to the screams. Just a loon, he told himself, though an icy cold chill still ran down his spine, despite the scalding heat of the night.
Suppose that's why it's called Black Cry's Swamp now, eh?
The mud squelched beneath his feet as he avoided patches of quicksand, a look of heavy concentration on his face while he ventured further and further into the marsh. He could hear a mosquito humming irritably in his right ear, his head shaking in an attempt to be rid of it — much like a horse would do. His breaths were heavy and he was drenched in sweat, his victim being draped over a log while Alastor hurriedly undid his bowtie and threw it to the mucky grounds, along with his sweat-soaked dress shirt.
It felt liberating to be free of the clothes that had clung to his body like hungry leeches, but he was still hot, a sigh leaving him as he stuffed the bowtie into the breast pocket of his shirt before tying it around his slim waist. He was almost to the ritual grounds. Just a little further and then he could go home. This was the first of many corpses he'd bring to the grounds. If he ever wanted to be accepted by the voodoo gods, he would need to perform a proper sacrifice out in ancient territory. That was the whole reason for this trek. Just one ritual out here was all he needed — and a sacrifice that met all the criteria.
The fog seemed to grow thicker here, crickets chirping in the long grass as he walked on. A firefly or two sometimes lit up when he stepped in a specific area or if he brushed the side of a tree, but other than that, it was almost completely dark. The light of the moon was barely a guide in the inky blackness of the bayou. Just a little more, he told himself, sweat trickling down his exposed chest. Bugs could be felt gluing themselves to his rancid smelling body, savoring the delicious scent. Well, delicious to them. Anybody on the street would want to keep ten feet away from him if he approached.
Something thumped loudly. And then it thumped again. And again.
Branches snapped and the trees shook, Alastor's aching hold on the bag falling loose as he took a step back from where the sound was echoing. His fingers were sore, his knuckles gone white from how far he had hauled the body, his legs feeling far too weak to let him turn and flee from the situation. A low, guttural growl rumbled from the trees ahead, his mind hoping to the heavens that it was a bear or some forest animal — but he knew better than that. Alastor was no fool. He knew that he was in danger.
Another growl sounded, the earth beneath Alastor's feet trembling from the weight of what lie ahead. And that was when he saw it, a creature that could have been called colossal compared to the tallest tree in these woods, its blazing white pupils shining bright in front of its silhouette. It stood tall, antlers branching from a deer skull mounted on its face, the bones of a ribcage protruding from its chest like the long tooth of a narwhal.
It rumbled once more, pushing trees aside while it lowered its gaze to look at the smaller being standing in front of it. Alastor's heart was pounding in his ears and his breath was stuck in his throat, eyes wide with terror. A Wendigo. A creature one should only read about in books. A creature that none would believe existed outside of the mind. A creature that craved blood, never seeming to be able to satiate its hunger.
Alastor swallowed.
It reeked. Death wafted off the beast's furred chest like the haze of campfire smoke, filling Alastor's nose and causing his eyes water, his throat going dry from lack of air. Those horrible white eyes stared at him, blank and lacking life despite their bright glow. A horrible breath was huffed into Alastor's face.
"Stranger," it growled. The man gawked at it, unsure of what to do. He didn't think they existed. Why would he? But apparently they did. He tried breathing through his mouth, but he could taste the scent on his tongue, causing him to gag.
"Why stranger. Why here?" it snarled in a voice that sounded as if it had swallowed seven sacks of rocks and each stone was scratching together with its vocal cords. Alastor took a step back.
This was a being of power, rumored to say that one touch of it would cause the creature it laid its claws upon to grow an insatiable appetite for the flesh of its own kind — insanity.
"The ritual grounds. I have an offering," he choked out through the vile stench in the air. The Wendigo hummed, as if in thought before it's eyes glowed brighter than the moon in the sky and it drew a claw along Alastor's torso, embedding its cruel ways into the man's blood. The crimson fluid that poured from the shallow wound turned a void-like black, the last thing he remembered was the creature's gaze fading into the dark, a soft grumble following its vanishing form.
-
He had finished the ritual, but it was foggy. He wouldn't be able to give any details other than meeting Damballa for the first time — but even that was a little vague. Mimzy had her arms crossed and was staring angrily at her friend, a grim sigh sounding from him. "What is your point, Mimzy," he retorted. The short flapper's brows furrowed further than they already had.
"My point is that one day you'll get hungry! You'll gobble her up like a starved wolf!" she yelled and poked Alastor's chest with one of her fingers. He rolled his amber eyes. "I haven't eaten you yet, I don't see the big deal."
Her eyes went wide, "Excuse you! The only reason why you haven't is because I put a stop to it before it happens! I've seen how you are, Alastor! Your eyes look like they're on fire and your teeth go as sharp as a bear's! You lose sense of who you are at those moments, that's why you can't remember." She pinched the bridge of her hooked nose, a heavy breath leaving her lips. "Listen, Al. I'm just trying to warn you. You can kiss her and get to bed with her as much as you'd like but-"
"Woah, okay, first of all, there is nothing like that between her and I," Alastor stopped his friend and shook his head. "Second, I'm not going to eat her." Mimzy looked unconvinced, but just nodded. "Like I said, I'm looking out for you. I don't want you to wake up from one of your dazes and find little morsels of her splattered on your shirt." After that, the two friends left the alleyway after Alastor had finished his smoke and began their search for you, seeing as you weren't in front of the store anymore.
Alastor went inside and found you looking at a rather nice red dress with a black ribbon to go around the waist, his smile tightening. He wasn't going to eat you. He would make sure that he wouldn't. Though he had to admit, you did look like you'd make a delicious meal. Those thoughts were quickly pushed to the back of his mind and locked with chains, his long legs carrying him towards your unsuspecting figure. With a grin, he suddenly grabbed both your shoulders and yelled "boo" next to your head, causing you to jolt and yelp loudly.
"Don't do that, Alastor!" you scolded him and slapped his arm while he snickered mischievously. "I apologize," Alastor cooed and hugged you, your face flaring up, but he pulled away rather quickly, not leaving you any time to savor his warmth. "Mimzy and I are done bumping gums, I'm sorry for leaving you alone," he tousled your hair and grabbed the dress from your hands, walking to the cashier and quickly paying for it.
"Hey!"
"Merry early Christmas," your friend teased as the man at the register packed the dress into a bag. "But don't fret! I have more gifts planned for you!" he wandered over to you and passed the paper bag into your hold. "Now let's get out and have some fun!" The taller man led you out of the shop while you carried the bag, shaking your head with a small grin.
Mimzy was waiting outside, a small smile forming on her face. "Hi! I'm sorry for being rude earlier, I just really needed to speak with Alastor about something of utmost importance. The name's Mimzy, sugar," she held her hand out for you to shake, a sense of shock capturing you before you carefully shook her hand. You took a glance at the brunette, his amber eyes unreadable. So, you simply let what she had said slide and turned your attention back to her.
"Oh, it's alright. I'm (Y/n)," you giggled and pulled your hand back to yourself. "As I've heard! Alastor won't shut up about you, you know?" The both of you began walking down the street together while Alastor trailed a little further behind, his jaw clenching a little in annoyance. "Really?" The little flapper nodded, "Oh, absolutely! You're all that's on his mind! It gets a little annoying actually." She playfully nudged you, a laugh of your own rising in your throat while a redness rushed to your face — and it wasn't from the cold. "In fact, I think he even said he-"
Alastor quickly shoved the blonde away from you, laughing nervously. "Ahahaha! That's quite enough, Mimzy!" he said through a tight smile and clenched teeth, the little woman giggling and walking ahead of the both of you. The man ran a hand through his hair, inhaling the icy air; his chest noticeably expanded as he took in the smell of winter. "So, what did you say about me?" you looked up at him, his gaze only flicking down to you for a moment before returning to the route ahead. "Nothing, doll."
"STOP!" Mimzy suddenly screeched, both you and Alastor coming to a halt, everyone on the street turning to gaze at the three of you. "What!? What is it!?" the brunette glared at his petite friend, a frown on his face. "Aaaaand, gotcha," she winked and moved her blue gaze to just above your heads, your eyes following. Spiky, forest green leaves adorned with snow white berries hung from a lamppost, your face dropping like an anvil. Mistletoe.
***
A/n
Chapter slightly inspired by the book Pet Sematary!
{3590 words}