Ashes and Teeth
H. C. Smith
H. C. Smith
Darkness shrouded the land. Shadows swelled into towering cathedrals. They swept across the earth and up the trees and mountains. The darkness was an entity, a presence that had settled over the wilderness. It was alien to Wendy Grimm, like a pilgrim from a foreign, unknown land.
Wendy stood in the darkness alone. Fingers of the talking winds snatched her dress. Her long, dark hair rippled around her face. All was dark and silent. Deathly leaves fell from the darkness. They clung to the grass and dirt. As the moon ascended in the sky, shadows and leaves fell at her feet.
She was not afraid, but was wide awake, as if her senses were heightened by the darkness. Blood boiled in her veins with an anxious fever.
There was something about the unfamiliar darkness that called to her, and she had an unexpected desire to call back to it. There was a name on the tip of her tongue that she wanted to speak. However, Wendy did not know who would be in the woods to hear it.
Wendy did know one thing. She was there for a reason; to find Ethelred.
Rather hesitant, she called out to him. “Ethelred!”
Her voice was borne through the forest by the wind like a vapor. Wendy felt a subtle shift in the air. She was unsure of what she had done and waited apprehensively.
Suddenly, a voice behind her came to life, as if it had been born from the air and darkness. It was a beautiful, but chilling voice. It rang like haunting bells. “Wendy.” It spoke her name.
Wendy whirled around to see Ethelred Antonescu emerging from the shadows. His white face stood out against the darkness. Ethelred had a tall forehead, a bony face. His round, chiselled jaw was motionless, along with the curves of his lips. He was as she remembered him: unblinking, ageless, and immortal. He was a beautiful statue, born from the air and shadows.
His skin was white like ashes. It emitted an iridescent light. His long, blonde hair fell around his face to the collar of his dark military jacket. The moon glinted off his boots.
Wendy leaned toward Ethelred absentmindedly, but then faltered. Her arm was outstretched to him, but her fingers had curled back. They glimmered darkly. His irises flashed like polished onyx. She looked upon him and she glanced at the shadows at his back.
Wendy felt an icy breeze upon her, but realized it was not the wind at all. It was Ethelred’s breath.
“Ethelred.” Wendy breathed. Her feet were rooted to the ground.
He nodded and flashed a bewitching, taunting white grin. “Wendy, what are you doing out here alone?”
Wendy lifted her face to him. “I came to find you.”
Ethelred said in a charming, classic voice, “Good. I wanted to be with you.” In a flicker, he was but inches from Wendy. The fragrance of his skin was disturbing to her. He smelled of roses and blood. It contorted her stomach and she turned her face from him.
Ethelred’s fingers brushed across her arms delicately like spiders. She cringed at his touch and said in a shuddering whisper, “You’re so cold.”
Wendy found his eyes. They were searching her, drinking her in. “I see you’re wearing the dress I gave to you. Do you like it?” His beautiful lips curled. He ignored her remark.
It was a red lace dress. Its slim straps barely clung to her thin shoulders. The dress fell in a billowing skirt around her knees. She was also sporting brown leather combat boots.
“It’s beautiful.” Wendy said hesitantly. Her brow furrowed. Ethelred smiled.
Ethelred touched a finger to her lips. His fingers were like ice. “You’re beautiful, Wendy.” She shivered. “You’re nothing short of angelic.”
Wendy narrowed her eyes. “Don’t talk to me about angels.”
Ethelred’s face was so close to hers that she could feel the coldness of his skin sinking into her bones. “Why not?”
“Angels are religion’s thing.” Wendy said in a whisper. Religion disgusted her.
The dead silence hung painfully between them. An itch crept up Wendy’s spine.
Then, from the stillness, Ethelred spoke. “Wendy, may I ask you a question or two?”
Wendy nodded. “Sure.” She clawed at an itch on her neck.
“This is just out of my curiosity.” Ethelred said. He clasped his hands behind his back. His brow arched. “But I would like to know this: do you believe in God?”
Wendy’s heart stopped. God? What did Ethelred know about God? Wendy had known Ethelred for a long time, and he was no religious man. “God?” Her eyes narrowed.
Ethelred gave a curt nod. “Yes, dear. You don’t believe in angels. But, do you believe in God?”
Wendy shook her head. “No.” Her eyes were intently focused on Ethelred, trying to read his reaction. She thought she saw a smile creep up on his lips.
“Alright. Another question.” He said in a hushed tone. “Do you believe in the Devil?”
Wendy was bemused by his question. Weren’t God and the Devil in the same category? If one did not believe in God, then shouldn’t it be obvious that they do not believe in the Devil? Wendy thought it was a trick question. “Should I, Ethelred?” She was irritated.
Ethelred chuckled darkly. After a long pause, he answered: “Yes.”
The moment the word was expelled from his lips, a gust of wind rushed through the woods. The trees moaned under its weight. The leaves stirred at Wendy’s feet. As the darkness gathered around them, Wendy could not help but sense something ethereal about it all.
Wendy was agitated. A chill raced up her spine, her skin tingled. Anxiety was slowly feeding her fear. “Why should I?” The excited winds pulled the breath through her lips.
“Because I am the Devil.”
Wendy’s eyes widened. “Have you lost your mind?”
Ethelred stood motionless. His eyes shimmered with a wicked gleam. He did not answer, but in a flash, his flesh turned black and dissolved into dark smoke by unexpected witchery. He vanished and the mist whirled around Wendy. Her skirt whispered around her knees. Wendy's heart raced. Was she hallucinating? Had she gone mad?
Wendy spun around on her heels and saw the column of smoke solidify into Ethelred again. Shrouds of shadows drifted about him. “Do you believe me now?”
Wendy was speechless. Her lips parted in bewilderment.
Ethelred lifted his arms and by some form of sorcery made a blazing fire ignite from the air. She could feel the rush of heat upon her face as the flames erupted from his finger tips. Wendy held her arms in front of her face and backed away from the flames. The fire cast away the shadows for only a moment.
When the flames dissipated, the darkness rushed back around Wendy, and she was cold again. Ethelred laughed wildly. “Do you believe me now?”
Then, in a blink of an eye, he disappeared into the wind without a trace. Adrenaline charged through Wendy’s veins like fire. She whirled about, her eyes searching frantically to catch a glimpse of Ethelred.
“Do you believe me now?” It was a whisper in her ear, closer than her own breath. She screamed.
Suddenly, a sharp pain forked through her body like lightning. Wendy gasped and tried to escape, but Ethelred’s powerful arms held her in place. Something cut into her. It felt like razors slashing the flesh on her neck. She squirmed in Ethelred’s grip and shrieked.
Wendy finally managed to tear herself free from his grip. She whirled around to face him and her hand flew to her neck. Hot blood seeped through her fingers. Ethelred had bitten her.
Her blood was smeared across his chin and mouth. His lips were curled back, revealing his razor-sharp teeth, protruding from his mouth like nails. Ethelred’s eyes were cloudy like those of a dead man. His knees bent, his back arched, and he leaned forward. He was a beast, ready to pounce.
“Ethelred! Stop!” Her hands were in front of her, but she knew she was no match for Ethelred. Tears fell from her eyes. Horror shed its wrath through her body. She was going to die.
An inhuman roar ripped from his chest and with power and force, he lunged.
“Ethelred!” Wendy shrieked. She saw a blur of white ashes, glimmering eyes, and gnashing teeth.
Ethelred took her throat.
…
Wendy gasped and bolted upright in her bed. Air rushed into her lungs. Wendy’s hand was at her throat. She was damp with sweat. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest. Her pulse was racing. Locks of hair were stuck to the back of her neck. Tears sprung in her eyes and she blinked them away quickly.
It had been a dream. A nightmare.
Wendy looked around her dark room and waited until she stopped trembling. She reached over to her bedside table. She found a match and lit a candle. When light crowded the room, she was relieved. Then something caught her eye.
Across her sheets and her pillow was a dark, shimmering crimson stain. It filled her eyes with its presence. She covered her mouth with a hand to keep from screaming. It was blood.
Wendy quickly touched the skin of her neck. Her fingers brushed over something wet and jagged. Her flesh was upturned and scarred just below her ear. Pain ripped through her nerves when she touched the wound. Wendy began to tremble again.
“Oh my God.” Wendy breathed. She knew what it was.
Bite marks.
