He couldn't say anything. He couldn't move. He couldn't even seem to be able to breathe as fresh, crimson essence dripped from his jaws and onto the corpse beneath him. Why were you still here? Why didn't you go home? Why did it have to be you? His chest felt far too tight for his lungs, heart causing his torso to vibrate from how violently it was pumping. Blood pounded in his ears. This wasn't how he imagined this going. It was inevitable, of course it was, but...not like this. Not when he was drenched head to toe in the blood of some criminal.
Scraping together what little strength was left in his tired bones, he lifted from his hunched position and stood upright, fists clenched tightly at his side. Fetch the contract from Damien's lounge, he ordered his friend.
But, Alastor-
Now.
Not another word was shared between the two before Zandor slithered away, only leaving you and Alastor in his wake. His breath was hot, a cloud of steam shaping by his chapped lips with each exhale. What was he going to tell you? Suppose there was nothing to be told. You saw it happen, had a front row seat even. His lungs achingly filled with the biting air of winter as he turned to face you, the mask upon his face hiding nothing from you. He swallowed thickly.
You looked absolutely horrified. Your mouth was agape and tears were beginning to gloss your beautiful eyes over. Please don't cry. I can't bear to see you cry. "Alastor...what are you..." you couldn't even finish your sentence. Your voice trembled harshly. You just couldn't wrap your head around what was happening. "My darling," he started, but before managing another vowel, you spun on your heel and took off in the direction of the woods. A horrible, twisted smile stretched onto his face as he saw you run. A smile.
Why was he smiling?
He muffled a laugh into his bloodied, gloved hand. Because this was the fun part. The part where the predator uses its wit and skill to win. This was the hunt. His tongue swiped over his top set of teeth, eyes narrowing maliciously. Shadows began to bubble by his side, each one growling and snapping their crooked jaws. "After her. I want her back to me alive," he snarled. Their strange, slitted eyes being enclosed sideways by a thin eyelid in an owlish blink, another guttural growl sounding from their chests as they shot away from him and towards the woods where you had gone.
"This is it." The prince manifested by his side and handed him a folded piece of paper, Alastor hastily reading over the terms and conditions and then glancing at your signature.
"Burn it."
Zandor nodded and held a thumb beneath the paper, a blue flame sparking to life and swallowing the deal in its heat. He dropped it to the snow with a frown on his lips. "We'll meet her at home." His friend stared off in the direction you had disappeared in, looking rather unsure. "The other Loa have not been out for such a long time, Alastor. Are you sure this is a good idea?" The brunette turned his fiery amber gaze to the figure of shadow. "Then go and lead them like you were meant to, Prince Zandor." A look of pride crossed his companion's face before he gave him a salute and fled off into the darkness, a new storm beginning to brew in the sky as clouds drifted over the moon and snow began floating from the welkin.
"You can't run from me, little doe. A hunter needs its prey, after all."
-
You huffed and wheezed, unsure of where exactly you were running. The forest was covered in snow and frost and there was nothing to act as your source of light. Hissing and the snapping of branches could be heard from behind you, but you refused to catch a glance at what was pursuing you. No matter what you do, don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back.
Your foot caught on a protruding root, causing you to stumble clumsily. You kept your rapid strides however, determined to escape this nightmare. That's all this was, right? A nightmare! You must have fallen asleep inside the theater and this was just a dream. You would be okay! Just pinch yourself, that's all it takes!
Yet you knew that this was nothing of the sort. This was reality. Alastor was a psychopath. He's been the creature everyone feared to encounter when they step out at night. This entire time it was him. The man I hold closest to me...is a fucking psychopath.
A heavy weight slammed into your back and drew a yowl of surprise from you, your body tumbling into the snow and causing your skin to flare up red. "Alastor, please stop!" you sobbed, feeling a foot press itself into your back. "Guess again, slag," a deep voice hissed, your entire body going stiff like ice. "It's been so long... How good it feels to be free again..." Its tone was low, just barely above a whisper. "Who are you?" Your sobs racked your chest, the warm breath of the beast above you tickling your ear.
It inhaled deeply, preparing to answer you before another, louder, less raspy voice cut in. "Kalfu. Unhand her." The warmth left the side of your head, a snarl rumbling from who you assumed was Kalfu. "Zandor. Such a surprise that he sent you after us. You must love being his little pet." Murmurs echoed from behind you. There were more than just two of them. Many more by your count. At least twenty if you had to pull a guess. "He wants her alive. And I know that you were going to hurt her." The one above you chuckled. "Hurting and killing aren't the same thing," Kalfu crowed and pressed down harder.
"Let her go, Kalfu."
The deepest of sighs rang from the creature's chest. "What ever happened to you, Zandor? You were once the fiercest of us. We cowered at your feet. Now look at you, just about as intimidating as a mouse with a twisted tooth." Some snickers and giggles of mock circulated around your unknown captors, your form trembling in the cold. "Don't test me. That fire may have dimmed but a little fuel will easily bring it back," the superior of the two seethed. There was a long silence, only the occasional whisper being shared between the strangers as snow feathered down from the sky.
Then the weight left your back. "Return to the Vilokan. I wish not for her to see you monsters." You screwed your eyes shut tight when they all began yelling and blustering about how they were just like him, but they soon fell quiet once more and left the clearing with the soft sound of what could have very easily been mistaken as gust of wind. You shivered violently, praying and praying that this was not how you ended. Alastor will kill me even if I do get out of this. There were no bright sides it seemed.
"Are you alright?" the raspy voice sounded next to you. The cold feeling of something yet seemingly nothing wrapped around your bicep and helped you to your feet. Your eyes moved to take a gander at the person that aided you, your heart seeming to forget what its sole purpose was. In front of you was a dark, whispering figure that looked to be a shadow of a deer-esque man, two large antlers branching from his head and he had eyes that looked like a red flame was burning behind them.
"Can you walk?" You nodded, still unable to understand what this thing was. "Perfect. Come with me. I have orders to return you home," he cooed, coaxing you to follow him with a small smile that was far too similar to Alastor's for your liking. In fact, this creature's whole being seemed similar to his, despite the shadowy void it was made of. Same thin stature with a slim face, fluffy hair, and long limbs. There were differences, such as the long ears atop his head and the glowing scarlet color of his smile.
"Zandor's the name," he bowed lowly.
This one's voice was nothing like his though. Yet it seemed familiar.
"You're...you're the one that spoke with me inside the theater." He said nothing, simply taking your hand and beginning to lead you further from where you had been tackled. You thought best not to say anything more, only following through the freezing woods with a small frown on your lips. The environment gradually became more and more familiar, your hand held in Zandor's. His grip was tight, unwilling to lose you in the maze of trees. Especially not when it was dark out.
You hopped over a small stream. Now you knew exactly where you were. He was taking you back to Alastor.
"No! No, stop! Please! I can't go there, he'll kill me!" you screamed and flailed, trying to wrench your hand free of the creature's grasp. It growled lowly, never releasing you as the large, dormant beast of a house came into view. "Stop your games," he scolded you, dragging you up the snow-covered steps and onto the porch. The door was pushed open and you were (ungraciously) hauled into the warm interior.
Nothing was spoken as the figure of shadow let his grip fall loose. He glanced at you and then took off into the living room, leaving you to follow slowly behind. You were hesitant. What were you going to do? You had practically signed your death wish the moment you stepped out of that theater. So then let him kill me. Maybe I deserve it.
You poked your head around the corner of the living room, spotting Alastor sat in an armchair with Zandor by his side. The man was stroking the creature's ear, carefully scratching at the base of it while Zandor rumbled in delight. The broken mask that he had been wearing earlier when you found him was sitting on a small table beside the armchair. There was nothing you could say. You just stood there, wondering what the hell he was going to do to you.
Alastor was the first to speak, "I made you supper."
"I don't want whatever you made," you snapped, fighting back the tears that stung your eyes. He didn't respond, only releasing Zandor and allowing the beast of shadows to leave the area. "Fair enough. Then I'll allow you to make your way to your room." The brunette waved his hand, but by now sadness, confusion, and anger had begun replacing your fear. "What the hell were those things!? And don't act like nothing happened! I saw what you did!" With a shrug, he stood from his seat and turned to face you.
"They're called Loa. Gods from the Voodoo religion." Your head cocked to the side while you stared at him with enraged befuddlement. "Wow! That's just great! Fucking great! Not only are you a sick, cannibalistic fuck, but you're also a voodooist!" Alastor's lips drew back in a snarl. "Oh, so there's something wrong with the religion I choose to be a part of?" You shook your head. "No! It's how you portray that religion onto someone, dickhead! I'm not going to be very fond of it if I was chased by twenty of your 'Loa'! They hurt me!" There was a pause as one small, salty rivulet ran down your cheek from your eye.
"You hurt me, Alastor. You lied to me and manipulated me into trusting you..." A deep, shaky breath caused your ribs to shiver. "I thought I could trust you. I really did." Your hands clenched into tight fists, one of them lifting up to your eyes and rubbing the tears away. "Why did you lie to me?" There wasn't a word spoken, Alastor's ashamed gaze falling to his feet while you began to sob, unable to comprehend why your friend could do such a thing. "You killed them! There were so many... And you acted like it was nothing..."
"I didn't wish for you to find out like this," he whispered and took a step in your direction, but you simply stumbled back, eyes wide and fearful. "What I do isn't without reason," Alastor tried to assure you again, his own eyes seeming rather glossy behind his glasses. "That man you watched me..." He trailed off in an attempt to find the right word, eventually continuing, "...maul tonight was a horrible person. You of all people should know. Because he was the one that had been forcing your wounds every single night."
Your mind fell back to what happened no more than an hour or two ago, blood and flesh splattered across the sidewalk. Alastor's form crouched over it and chewing gluttonously at the prey he had caught. His breathing heavy and primal. That mask... So much like a wendigo... But the man he had. That must have been—
"—Damien?"
Alastor gave you a slow nod, arms folding behind his back. "Why don't we have a seat in the kitchen. I can explain everything to you." You bit the inside of your cheek. What if he wanted to hurt you? Don't be foolish. If he wished to do such a thing, it would have been done when I first walked in.
So, once you were seated in the kitchen and a bowl of spaghetti was set in front of you, Alastor told you everything. Ranging from how he had murdered his father in the bayou nearby to how the Wendigo had laid its touch on his soul, developing deeper, darker cravings.
"How do I know you won't hurt me?" you whispered through your tears, knowing full well that you wouldn't be able to handle this for much longer. "Darling, have I ever laid a hand on you in such a way? What would make it different now? Just because you know I have foul intentions for others does not give me the right to injure a woman as sweet as yourself for my own twisted pleasure." You looked down at the half empty bowl of pasta, feeling far too nauseous to even take another bite.
"However," Alastor began again, "I'm afraid I cannot let you leave this house on your own anymore. I mean," he chuckled, "I can't have you turning me in now, could I? So you'll remain by me whenever you wish to go out." You frowned, suddenly feeling as if you were in Damien's hands again. "I'm sorry, my love, but that's how it has to be." You sniffled, beginning to cry again as Alastor stood up and walked to where you were sitting at the the other end of the table, your hands being held in his larger ones. "But now you know that I'll always protect you. Those horrible men cannot hurt you any longer. The contract was burned."
Alastor snaked his arms around your back in a warm embrace, much like he always did to comfort you, but this time you just couldn't seem to bask in his affection. It seemed feigned. Unreal. False. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" He said nothing, gently beginning to kiss your neck. You couldn't find the energy to squirm, nor did you want to. For some reason, you still wanted him to care for you like this, in spite of what he did. You just couldn't imagine a life without him.
You loved him.
{2616 words}