I was six years old when Creature first appeared to me.
It had been warm that day, if I remember correctly. A cheery kind of spring morning that melted away the previous winter chill. Of course, the delight of such a day could not truly be enjoyed then and there as I watched the walls of the subway tunnel zoom by. They used to make me feel dizzy.
I watched the turrets pass so quickly they seemed to meld into each other. The darkness of the tunnel was frightening even to this day, though then I had not been really afraid of anything. Not with mother sitting by my side, her newspaper a shield from the world around her. Barrier between her and I, though I appreciated it even then.
She never read the newspaper. Merely stared at the words. I realized this once when her eyes weren’t moving and her hands never turned the page. Instead, she would sit, unbeknown to my understanding, whilst playing with the locks of her shortly cropped hair, trying to let me be as much as she could. As the years grew on, this trait would never leave her.
This day, though, I hadn’t been thinking about the fact she wasn’t reading, or anything even remotely towards the fact she was even there. My mind was directed towards the sounds of the subway; the constant humming noise of lights and the thudding of tracks below. All this noise had overwhelmed my still developing mind.
Of course, I hadn’t realized Creature would come so out of the blue. I hadn’t realized much of anything when it came to the second-world. Merely that, when I had turned my eyes back towards the window, he had been sitting in the opposite seat from me.
There were very few people on this subway, but for the few that were, their attention was solely on everything but him, as if he hadn’t been there at all. And I suppose I should have thought more towards this when it had occurred, but I was young and easily enthused.
The Creature – of which I had nicknamed in my mind from the start – was staring at me with wide crimson eyes and a stoic expression. The kind of look that would have made me turn my eyes away in shame if I had known any better. His lips widened after returning my glance, revealing sharp, immaculately white teeth.
Instinctively, I pulled on mum’s pant-leg, panic kicking in. When she looked down at me, I pointed towards nothing. After all, only I could see him.
“Baby, we’ll be home soon,” she murmured sweetly before turning back towards her newspaper.
I returned my silent pondering then, lips quivering as the creature slid from his seat. That’s when I noticed his legs. Short, goat-like things that were covered in tufts of scarlet fur the colour of his tussled hair. His upper body, which was that of a child, was pink in colour and looked to be baby-soft. A cherub of a child, with chubby features much like my own had been during that period of time.
His feet – which so happened to be hooves – clicked against the flooring, little infant’s hand reaching towards me with sweet exuberance. His smile only seemed to further, adding to the sharp, malicious intensity of those devilish canines. He was beckoning me. Calling me closer. Moving to capture me in whatever manner I couldn’t quite presume.
And, after everything, all I could do was smile.
Now, I suppose smiling wasn’t the smartest of things to do. Surely one wouldn’t find the need to smile in the face of something that could be dangerous, or even life threatening. The logical thing would be to scurry away. To ball up as close to mum as possible. To fight it. I, though, didn’t want to fight.
So, instead, I smiled.
The Creature’s own smile faded. His hand, which had been reaching for me, slumped then slackened against his side as if repulsed by some invisible barrier unbeknown to me and his body retreated in on itself. He didn’t leave, though. No, he stood there, and when I disembarked, he followed.
From that point on, there was not a time Creature had been far from me.
He couldn’t talk. Something I had learned quite quickly while other things took a bit more time to figure out, such as the fact he never grew. I suppose its strange that my greatest companion was something only I could see. A figment of my imagination and one, of which couldn’t communicate with me. I suppose that I should have been afraid of him. The little cherub was something straight out of a gospel passage with little stubs for horns peeking out of the tufts of his scarlet hair. I suppose I should have known better – that he was not like me and could never be like me.
I suppose I should have known all these things, but as a child, and a sick child to boot, I had merely wanted a friend, and he became that friend.
Now, as the years rolled by, I couldn’t have been more thankful.
Every story is different, shaped by the person living it, and by the conflict that it creates. With each story one must learn to cope anew with such ideals and passions only they can know. With every story, the end is always a mystery, but never quite so different from the first simply because it is and end.
And my story? My story is not one of knights and princesses. Of a protagonist who is strong and beautiful like that of Adonis, nor have I ever been. Simply speaking, my story started the day that I opened my eyes for the first time to what I had merely dipped my toes into. The day the Darkling came. I had been fourteen at the time. No more than a child, still. And I was dying.
“Brady, I have to go!”
I watched as my mum scurried around the kitchen, panic clearly visible across her features as she searched the counters in vain for her bus pass. A normal trait for mom. I had been sitting, eating a small bowl of cereal as she instructed, watching with a mulled curiosity as she continued her ministrations to no effect.
“I’m going to be late again.”
She turned her eyes towards me, then, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Are you sure you don’t know where it is?” A question I received nearly everyday. A question I would end up answering whether I thought it funny or not.
“Behind the blender.”
Creature was sitting opposite from me, watching with complacent eyes as my mom let a sigh of relief pass before she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. Her mild expression became that of frustration before she said her goodbyes and warned that I would need to bath before my tutor got here. That, and she had been rather… disappointed in me once again for not having helped her out when I could have. She left with those words ringing through the now empty apartment.
Except for Creature and I. Wall fixtures. If I hadn’t snuck out so much, I’m sure I would have turned into a couch or coffee table by this time.
“We should probably get going, too, huh.”
I dumped the half-bowl of cereal down the drain, no longer sure if I could stomach anymore of it. In fact, I wasn’t quite sure if I was ever going to be able to stomach a full meal, but mother made me try anyways. She was always the one making me try.
Creature, of course, never did, but then again, he never ate.
As I scurried to the bathroom, my thoughts rested on the subject of recent interest for me. A girl, in fact. Pale skinned, white haired. She looked to be crying though no tears would fall as she combed her hair silently with long, deft fingers. Inhuman fingers.
I had known she was a second-worlder from the start. From the way her white lace was frayed and moth-eaten, or the fact that he her aura oozed off of her in a cloud of effervescence. Maybe even because of the pearly, lilac orbs that substituted both the iris and the pupil of her wide, weeping eyes.
And nobody appeared to see her but me. Another figment, mum would have said if I ever brought it up to her. The therapist said he thought all of it was in my head. That I was trying to substitute for the fact that I was sick by filling my world with creatures of fancy. Shaping my life around the fantastical cause, and though no one would ever admit it, it would take a miracle to save my life.
I tried not to think about sickness as I showered, letting the water heat my already cold flesh. Everything was blamed on sickness. I couldn’t remember a time that they said I did the things I do or thought the way I thought because I’m a boy or because I’m growing up. Always my CF. Always because of things I couldn’t control.
I had always hated therapists.
Either way, today, like many days that had passed since I was old enough to attempt sneaking out, I would go in search of answers to the many questions I could not ask. I would take out as many books on the occult as I could and, in my fiery passion to know, I would work the reasoning out for myself.
I suppose, if this all had been some strange trick of the mind, at least it was one that kept me occupied.
After finishing my shower, I towel dried my hair then reached out for my toothbrush complacently. As the water erupted from the tap, I turned my eyes towards the image of myself reflected back at me in the washroom mirror. It stung, to say the least – seeing myself like this. Seeing myself at all, quite frankly.
I was pale. Sinfully pale and far too skinny. Because of CF, I had not exactly ‘filled out’ nor would I in future years. Instead, I would always be a measly five foot six, never really quite hitting my potential.
I tried to push these thoughts back, keeping my eyes trained towards the small things. Like the damp curls that clung to my cheeks, or the dark eyes that stared back at me with little to no emotion. I had always wondered if that was what they looked like when I talked to mother, or when I whispered my secrets with Creature. So cold and lifeless. Eyes that marked somebody who was already dead, or, at least someone who had come to terms with death.
I suppose I hadn’t really let myself think on the subject enough to know if I was ready for death. Merely that, when it came, I wouldn’t fight it.
Creature was knocking. I could hear his small fist tap restlessly against the wooden door as was his usual habit when impatient. Always rushing, he was. Never liked to stay long in the library, or outside at all to be completely honest. He liked getting everything done and over with. I suppose I couldn’t really complain. I had tendencies of the same sort.
I finished brushing my teeth, rinsed my mouth out, then tethered my now damp towel around my thin hips. I hated looking down long enough to see the ribs. Long enough to know that there was little to no real substance there at all.
As per usual, I buried these thoughts and continued on with my morning routine undisturbed. I wore warm clothing that day – faded jeans, pull-over hoodies, and alike – making sure that I wouldn’t freeze. Losing body heat was easy. Regaining it was painfully hard. I had to be careful.
As I searched the room for my outdoor equipment, Creature sat at the end of my bed, little cherub hands balled in the sheets as his eyes flicked this way and that. Taking in whatever he could, though I’m sure even he knew that this room was one of the most familiar sights. From the dark blue paint to the creaky twin bed and the large desk mum had acquired from an IKEA catalog. Everything had always been very much the same.
After locating my things, I pushed the warm white scarf under the hood of my sweater before tying it in front, then went to slip on the matching gloves. My cheeks began to flush with heat, bringing colour to a face that usually had none.
“I suppose we should go, huh?”
Creature nodded, wrapping his small arms around his chest. He never got cold, that I knew of.
I grabbed my messenger bag, slipped in library books I needed to return and a couple writing pads that I had jotted notes in about that odd but immensely beautiful woman. All these things would come of use when the time came that I should need them. And need them I would. There was still so much left to figure out.
After slipping on my warm navy pea coat, I slung my bag over my shoulder, checked my pockets for my transportation pass and keys, then made my move towards the door. Yes, this was always the best part. Leaving. Setting out on an adventure, whether or not that adventure was merely across the city. That little adrenaline rush, though, was enough for me.
Creature grasped my hand, wide scarlet eyes staring up at me complacently. I gripped his fingers warmly, smiling back before heading forward with slow, easy steps. A light stroll, really. There was no rush seeing as the library wouldn’t open for another hour and a half anyways. It almost seemed imperative that I should take my time.
And Creature’s legs were so small anyways. It would be a shame to make him move quickly just to keep up.
I made sure the door was locked, as per usual, before heading towards the elevator which I had always hated. Of course, Creature seemed to hate it more than I, for whatever reasons I wasn’t quite sure. He would always squeeze my hand tightly, fiery eyes narrowing. His lips would pull back in that unfortunate grimace that made him look so much older than he should which made it very hard to be happy.
Of course, as we made are way down slowly, the feeling of falling sending my stomach up into my throat, I usually only concentrated on his hand. The one that seemed to be in mine more often than not. He was mine.
The elevator door opened four floors from the first one, a man and woman striding in, smiling and chatting happily with each other. I instinctively let my grip on Creature’s hand go. I was far too old for imaginary friends, as mom would have said. In my youth it was okay to speak about Creature and to talk to him in front of others. Now, though, that wasn't exactly seen as appropriate, so I constrained such actions the best I could.
We left the apartment shortly after that, when the elevator let us out. I hadn’t exactly kept my strolling pace simply because of the fact people frightened me. Of course, now that I was traversing the streets of West Village, New York, that knotting in my stomach only seemed to further itself.
I had Creature, though. I wasn’t alone.
We walked, the cold sending shivers down my spine whilst killing the hot flush from my cheeks once more. I was suddenly very appreciative of the three pairs of socks I put on before slipping into my beat up Converse simply because of the fact canvas shoes would hold very little heat.
Of course, right off the bat, the second-world made itself known. A woman who had been fumbling with her keys was having invisible dust blown into her face by a mischievous fairy, making her drop them into the snow drift by her small hybrid. She looked exasperated, most likely blaming her own clumsiness for what had just occurred without truly knowing the reasons why. How unfortunate for her.
As we made our way to the bus stop, I thought of warm coffee and a good novel. How long had it been since I had read a novel purely for pleasure reading? I couldn’t remember. It seemed odd that I had gone so long without reading. In books, I found voices who could understand my thoughts. Who knew the way I felt. With words, I was capable of finding a world that matched my own.
Yes, I wanted to read a fictional novel. A classic, maybe. Dickens and Wilde were my favorites though a little above my certain age level. After all, I was only fourteen.
Fourteen. So few years had passed since my birth. Time had always been so sluggish and moved at such a slow pace. Ironically, I suppose.
The bus came and I boarded it with Creature in tow. Even now it felt a bit awkward to run my pass through the machine knowing that only I was paying and that Creature was getting a free ride. It was a silly feeling but, as much as I had wanted to be rebellious, I was never the type to cheat.
We took our seats near the back of the bus near one of the heaters where I usually sat when the occasion permitted it. Today was one of those days so I sat, letting the warm air kill the frosty numbness of my feet.
It was a twenty minute bus ride. I knew every turn and stop by heart now, though there were not too many deviations. A couple of the main streets but other than that, it went straight to the terminal which so happened to be quite close to the library. From the moment my hands were warm enough to take the gloves off, I pulled out my notebooks and began to stock-pile the most important information I had together so that locating books wouldn’t be all that hard. Browsing the internet had given me names of some authors who had interesting ideals when it came to certain subjects on the occult. Other than that, I rarely trusted websites.
As I created subtitles, placing certain bits of information into each category, I turned my eyes towards Creature or, at least, where Creature was supposed to be. When I had realized he wasn’t there, my heart leapt and every ounce of will I had simply dissipated. He was gone. I was alone.
My fear became all too apparent. I had never been alone before – at least, for as long as I could remember. Creature was always there, and even if I couldn’t see him, he was usually making his presence known by knocking on doors and making it plainly clear that he was near. Now, though, he disappeared as if he had never been.
My lips were quivering. I could feel my resolve slowly disintegrating, leaving a trembling, frightened lump where I had once sat. The colour seemed to drip away slowly, melting all the joy that had previously made such a trip wonderful. The cold, grey faces of the fellow passengers became listless and empty. Dead. Everything was dead.
It took everything I had not to cry.
“Its time to go now.”
I turned my eyes towards Creature’s spot which was now occupied by something... someone else. Someone who looked at me with wide, turquoise eyes and an expression of amusement making itself known. Beautiful. He was absolutely beautiful.
“Are you ready?”
My lips fumbled for words as I shook all over. This couldn’t be happening. I didn’t know him. He shouldn’t be talking to me.
“Brady, don’t be frightened,” he murmured, pressing his hand against my cheek as his face took on a soft expression. My eyes focused on his jaw-line, which was beyond perfect, then his immaculately straight, silver hair. He was inexplicably symmetrical, arched brows raising as my lips opened then closed, then opened again. I tried to push the words out. Of course, there was nothing I could say. Nothing at all.
His thumb began wiping liquid from underneath my eyes, lips parting as his expression once again changed. This time he showed worry.
“Brady,” he murmured. “Its okay. Put your trust in me.”
“Who are you?” I was shaking. I could feel the heat leave my body. “W-what do you want with me?”
He paused, brows furrowing. “I’m here to be your savior.”
I shook my head back and forth, heart pounding heavily within my chest. “I-I don’t know you.”
His look of shock was more than I could take. I turned my eyes away from him, embarrassment becoming all to clear.
“But Brady, I am you.”
I moved away from his touch, lips parted and eyes like saucers. I wanted Creature. I needed Creature. He would know what to do.
“This is not good,” he murmured, more to himself than me. I was sure of it from the moment the words has passed his lips. “Not good at all.”
His hand, which had returned to his side, seemed to ball tightly when he spoke.
“You won’t come with me,” he said.
I shook my head, keeping my eyes low and my head tilted.
“Then I will be back,” he said. And with that, he disappeared.
~~
Spoiler
Alright so this would be the first half of chapter 1! I know the ending is a bit obscure but at the same time, it is only the first half ;D.
I realize that the tone is not as poetic as the prologue. I tried to calm down on the flowery bits a bit seeing as poetic thoughts are fun but not always the easiest to digest. This could definitely use some editing but I'm pretty pleased with how it looks so far.
Rip this apart!
I realize that the tone is not as poetic as the prologue. I tried to calm down on the flowery bits a bit seeing as poetic thoughts are fun but not always the easiest to digest. This could definitely use some editing but I'm pretty pleased with how it looks so far.
Rip this apart!
~Walker
