The castle is deadly silent when Tyler enters through the front doors. He holds a lamp out in front of him with his free hand, the other clutching the opening of his cape. The flickering of the flame illuminates his way down the dank cobblestone hall, the old furniture seeming to move on their own before the light can touch them. Tyler shivers.
Nobody from his village and the ones around it dared to visit the abandoned castle. It had sat there for as long as Tyler could remember, with many myths and legend tied to its aura of evil.
According to local gossips, the royal family who once lived there and ruled over the land disappeared one night. An enchantress killed every member, all except for the eldest son, who was taken by the witch to raise as her own. Another legend says the eldest son went insane and ate his family, becoming a Wendigo in the process.
No one knew the truth of what occurred that fateful night from ten years ago, and no one dared to learn it. Who was stupid enough to climb the mountains in the middle of a snowstorm to go to a possible haunted or monster-infested castle?
Tyler, and his mother. He supposes it's genetic.
At one point, Tyler thinks he hears the effervescent ticking of a clock just behind him, but he dismisses it as his overactive imagination. The shadows dancing on the ceiling are making him paranoid.
He makes it to a large metal door at the end of the hall with a barred window too tall for him to look through. Tyler experimentally tugs at the knob to see if it'll open. It doesn't budge. The lock must be so rusted that it's stuck. Behind it, he can hear a woman's voice pleading for help.
"Momma? Are you there?" He calls out, pressing his face through the window bars.
"Tyler? Oh my god, Tyler! You need to get out of here before he comes back!"
"No, not without you! Hold on, I'm coming!" Tyler examines the door, twisting the knob. The rusty metal sphere breaks off in his hand. "Okay, that's not going to work."
He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows and shoves his shoulder into the door, shifting all of his weight forward. It reluctantly groans open, revealing a single barred cell in the far corner and a suit of knight armor propped at the door.
His mother sits inside the cell, her bony pale hands gripping the rusty bars. Dirt and blood cake her cheeks and torn dress, and her hair sticks out like a bird's neck. She jumps when the door opens, but cries out as he stumbles into the room.
Tyler drops to his knees in front of the cell, wrapping his hands over his mother's. They're ice cold and shaking. "Momma, are you hurt? Who did this to you?"
"Tyler, you shouldn't be here," she says, ignoring his questions.
"Neither should you. Hold still, I'll get you out of here."
He lets one of her hands go and pulls out his small hunting knife from its sheath, jamming it into the space between the lock and the door and attempting to jimmy it to open.
"You just go. He'll find you."
"Who will find me, Momma?" He asks as he gently turns the blade, the lock twisting along with it.
At that moment, Tyler hears heavy footsteps along with the familiar clicking of claws. He forgets about the lock and shoots to his feet, holding his knife out with one hand, his other outstretched holding the lamp.
"Who's there? Show yourself."
At that point, Tyler is two-thirds done with his personal mission; enter the castle, rescue his mother, and get back to the village before night settles. Nothing, not even the feeling of him being watched, will stop him from getting her out alive.
Nothing, except maybe the hideous beast looming in the entrance of the dungeon.
The lamp slips from Tyler's hand and to the ground as he takes a step back from the shadowy figure, a mix of terror and curiosity overtaking his fragile determination. The only thing Tyler can see in the moonlight is a silhouette, but it's enough to throw him off his rhythm.
He composes himself and picks up the lamp from the ground, holding it out in front of him. Luckily, it's not broken, so the light almost reaches to where the creature stands.
Tyler takes a step closer to see what he's dealing with, and the monster shies away from the light and pushes himself further into the darkness. A low growl makes the hairs on his arms stand to attention, like soldiers ready for battle.
"Who are you?" The shadow asks.
"I asked you first." When he gets no response, he relents. "My name is Tyler." He speaks with more confidence that he actually has. "Are you the one who's taken my mother prisoner?"
"This intruder is your mother?"
"Yes. Will you release her, please?"
A large, clawed hand comes to grip the wall as the creature stands. Its nails are long and curled, the dark brown fur creeping halfway up the back of its hand. Tyler can see the small scars on its fingers.
"No!" The loud voice cracks through the air, making dust fall from the ceiling. His mother yelps and stifles the rest of her scream with her sleeve. Tyler jumps but stands his ground. "She was trespassing."
"She was lost and looking for shelter! Don't you see the storm outside? If she hadn't come, she would've died," Tyler protests, waving in her direction.
"Now, she will die as my prisoner. Leave, before I lock you up as well."
The hand waves and the armor begins to move in a clunky fashion, grabbing the collar of Tyler's shirt and dragging him across the room. Tyler can see the cavernous space inside of the helmet, the place where a human should've been. The armor is moving of its own volition.
His mother cries out, "don't touch him!" But she does it in vain.
Tyler struggles against the metal hand as the armor pulls him towards a second door leading directly to the woods. "Wait, stop! Take me instead!"
"Tyler, no!"
"Take me as your prisoner in exchange for her release!"
The armor stops now its tracks, and a pair of curious yellow eyes glint in the moonlight. "You would... you would trade places with her? You would stay in here forever with me, just to save her life?"
Tyler straightens himself as much as he can. "Of course. I'd do anything for someone I love."
"Someone you..." The silhouette nods slowly. "Fine. Release the woman."
Tyler blinks. That was easier than he thought it would be. "Th-thank you."
"Take her immediately out to the woods closest to the village's edge. Don't be caught."
"Wait-" The armor lets go of Tyler and goes for his mother. "Wait, at least let me- at least me say goodbye-"
But it's too late. The door slams shut and locks itself behind his mother and the magic armor. Tyler sinks to his knees, staring helplessly at the door as tears roll down his cheeks. He can feel the figure in the hallway watching him.
"I didn't even get to tell her I love her." Tyler turns to glare in the direction of the shadow. "You really are a monster."
He can almost hear the creature flinch and feels a glimmer of satisfaction. "I'm... sorry. Is there- is there anything I can do?"
"There's nothing you can do."
"Oh. Well, then. I- I'll have one of my staff show you to your room. Brendon!"
"Wait." Tyler stands, brushing off his pants. "I still don't know your name."
"My name? I... I don't know my name." The question seems to catch the monster off guard, and a tail whips into the light for a moment before disappearing again. "I think it was... Joshua."
"You don't even know your own name? Who... what are you?" Tyler lifts his lamp and the monster cowers again, away from the light. "Come on now. I won't bite."
"But I will."
"I'm not afraid of you. Step into the light."
After a moment of hesitation, the monster steps forward, and Tyler chokes on air.
The boy- if he can even call him that- is nearly six feet tall and bulky with muscle and fur covering every inch of his body. Jagged tan horns curl around his flapped ears like a ram's. Large canine teeth stick out from the top of his mouth.
A tail whips behind jinx and his hands and feet resemble that of a wolf more than a human. His clothes are stretched around his shoulders like they might rip in half at any moment. The curious yellow eyes are actually green and catlike, long, thin pupils making Tyler quake in his shoes. On the pocket of his overcoat is the emblem of a golden crown with two swords crossing through it. He recognizes it as the emblem belonging to the royal family that lived there before.
As he steps forward again, in the reflection of a mirror hanging from the wall, Tyler can see a boy dressed like a prince, with curly dark hair and piercing eyes. A silver crown rests on his head, and his expression is scared. That must be what he truly looks like, Tyler thinks. He's just a scared kid in the body of a monster.
"My God. You're the prince," Tyler breathes, looking back at and reaching a hand to touch him, but the monster steps back into the shadows.
"Stop," he growls, tiger teeth flashing in the flickering light. "I could hurt you."
Taking a step away from Joshua, Tyler lowers his lamp. Someone taps him on his shoulder, and when he turns, he sees a tall man standing behind him. Brendon, Tyler assumes, is dressed like a servant with a metal circle jutting out of his stomach, and there's a soft ticking coming from him. His eyes are purely white and glossy like pearls, and his skin is marked like a wooden table. In fact, the way he moves as he motions for Tyler to follow him is robotic and slow.
"You're... you're not human."
Brendon's kind smile falters. "You're a quick one, aren't you. No, my kind sir, I am a clock."
Tyler glances at the monster. "That's not possible."
"You'd be surprised," Brendon mumbles, grabbing Tyler's hand. His skin is hard and cold, like marble. "I wish you'd come in better circumstances, but Prince Joshua isn't as bad as he seems. Come along now. I will show you to your room."
He guides Tyler away from the dungeon and down what he believes is the east wing of the castle. The walls are adorned with patterned tapestries and old gilded picture frames, torches casting heavy shadows.
Even though they've only walked down a separate hall, the atmosphere has changed entirely. Instead of a looming threat terrifying Tyler, the air is crisp and cool, and soft music hangs in the air. He almost feels relaxed but reminds himself why he's there and frowns.
Brendon stops in front of a simple wooden door and gestures extravagantly. "This is your room, sir. If you need anything, just call. And again, I'm truly sorry for my master's horrendous manners. We've lost quite a bit of humanity in our time trapped in the castle. These walls are all we know."
"You can't leave?" Tyler inquires.
"We can, but not for long. Only the Prince can leave, but he refuses to leave us behind. You see, our souls are tied to the castle because of our awful forms, but he can change when day breaks. Until the spell is broken and we're returned to our true forms, the rest of us cannot leave."
"Souls? True forms? Daybreak? Wait- did you say there were others?"
Brendon's face twists into disgust. "Unfortunately, yes. If you see a talking candlestick with an appalling French accent, spare you the trouble and avoid him at all cost. Duke Ryan is a nuisance to society."
"I heard that, Brendon!"
Tyler giggles and opens the door, taking a look inside. There's a large bed and a dresser, with a man lying across the bed in a sensual position.
His face is pale and droopy, and wax drips from his fingers. Flaming wicks stick out from his spiky hair and his knuckles, and the rest of his body is shiny and golden. He smiles smugly in their direction, using one finger to coax Tyler into the room.
"Bonjour, Mon Ami," he attracted.
"Ryan Ross, get off the bed or I will dunk you in water," Brendon barked, the ticking from his chest quickening. "I swear, you have no manners."
Ryan hops off the bed and treads towards the two, getting on one knee and taking one of Tyler's hands in his. Despite his knuckles literally being on fire, he doesn't feel the burn. It's warm, like a memory. The candle man kisses Tyler's hand, quirking wit a flirtatious smile.
"I suppose you already know my name," he says, his voice smooth like hot wax, and stands up again.
Tyler smiles, seeing Brendon having a physical crisis beside him. "I do. You're a candle."
"Oui, I am," Ryan cooes. "And you are gorgeous."
"Aw, thank you."
Brendon straightens and yanks Ryan to his feet. "I believe we should leave our new guest to grow accustomed to their new home."
He drags Ryan away, who's now singing somberly in French. Tyler laughs and walks into the bedroom, reality slowly setting in as he sits down on the bed.
The room is fairly large, with sleek wood floors and pale blue furniture. Tyler walks traces his hand over the silk golden sheets, tears starting to prickling the corners of his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Momma," he whispers to himself. "I love you."
Tyler falls asleep on top of the covers curled tightly into a ball, dreaming fitfully of the life he left behind and the monster that is holding him hostage.