Young Writers Society

Brigitte vanished into the darkness of the forest.

"Brigitte! Please!" Reinhard called from the upper story of the castle. He smacked the flat of his hand against the stone wall. Whenever she left him she took his heart in her hands, and more importantly, his fortune. Her father left him everything on the condition of his marriage to Brigitte, but she was as elusive as a fox.

She was a flash of crimson astride her newest stallion, a wild, midnight beast that seemed pure muscle. They both tossed their manes in the icy wind. The girl was searching for a constant adrenaline rush and was exhausting to be near for more than a few hours. The strain of her obsession would have been too great had she not been so angelic in form. But angel was not the right word, perhaps. She was something out of a nightmare for him, and for any other man she did not favor. She was a demon of beauty. Her skin was like fresh milk and her hair, delicate ebony curls softer than rabbit fur. Her every move was grace and every glance from those twilight eyes was torture. She and Reinhard had been friends since infancy but she was more in love with the damned trees than with him.

He was willing to do whatever it took to keep her, and her estate. She had not taken the news of their engagement well, but he had to believe she would change her mind. Once she was free of this place, she would understand there was more than this mildewing castle and empty woods.

*******

(a few years earlier)

What do you do out there all day?" Reinhard asked Brigitte as she swirled her red velvet cape around her shoulders. He leaned against the wall of the library, near the massive smoldering fireplace. His blue eyes were red from reading.

Brigitte turned in the stairwell, smirking. Her sharp dimples cut him like knives. "What do you think? I dance around a fire and cast spells on people." Her dark eyes whispered magic and he believed her. It wasn't hard to imagine her with a voodoo doll of him, jabbing it in the heart with a pine needle. She was wicked in her feigned innocence.

"Take me with you," he begged softly. Her face gentled with a look of affection and she ran over to squeeze him and torture him with a peck of a kiss on his flushed cheek.

"I was only kidding, Rein. What do I know about magic? I walk to be alone with my thoughts. You would find it horribly boring and you know it."

"Nothing can be dull with you," he said into her soft curls, inhaling her scent. She smelled like roses and sugar, the only bright thing in these dark woods. He locked his arms around her, feeling her stiffen. Only the sound of her father's chair screeching back in the next room convinced him to release her. The old man was always watching.

"Go read your books, Rein," she said, attempting to be tender, but he could also hear her disdain. She was so unimpressed with the city and his expensive education. None of the other girls ever treated him this way, and there were many in the city who might have been glad to take him as their husband. But only the forest commanded Brigitte's respect. "You'll go back to your city for good one day."

"Not without you," he growled, throwing himself grumpily to the plush carpet she'd been reading on earlier. Strange that he should love her when she hated everything dear to him. Her wistful smile as she left for the stables made him angry. He was always watching her walk away. The sound of hoof beats seemed to fill his ears as he flipped through the book she'd been looking at. It was the only one she ever touched, a thick, black volume with heavy yellow pages. Each page held a different monster; dragons, sea snakes, horned lions, the list seemed endless. Was this what she thought about on her walks?

The last page was stuck and Reinhard pried it up, hoping to rip it by "accident". Instead he hissed as the thick paper sliced him and blood as dark as wine oozed onto the page. The lone wolf that was crosshatched with black ink was stained red. Its face was both eerily human and alien, looking at him with such intensity that he imagined it leaping from the page for his throat. He flung the book into a corner and left to speak to Brigitte's father, as always, about marriage.

******

(present)

Brigitte left her home behind and fled into her woods. The greens of this place were so dark they looked black from a distance. The leaves embraced her, caressed her skin as her horse galloped across the stony ground. She had gone down this path nearly every day as a child, leaving Reinhard behind to dream of his elegant cities. He was dear to her, a charming boy, if a little dull. He would make some girl a pleasant husband, but that girl would not be her. She would never leave these woods. She had always loved them, but when she was fourteen, they began to love her back.

"Your horse does not like me much, I think," Kaspar whispered, emerging from the shadows as though he was made of them. His hair was wild and dark red with eyes a strange mahogany that often played tricks with her. His skin was like mist over water, and he wore clothes as pale as the bleached sky stretching out somewhere unseen above the treetops. "Are you getting off?" he asked, his smile as predatory as the wolves haunting these trees. There was nothing gentle about him, like the forest. He would protect those he loved and destroy those who were unwelcome.

She could not bring herself to return his grin, knowing she could not see him again. She would never walk over the bed of fall leaves with him, or scream at the moon in a nearby valley. She would never again race him, hair flying, as free as the winds whipped between tree trunks. The sweet, dangerous tension she felt near him would be gone. She could never acknowledge his existence, keeping him the secret she had promised when she met him, five years ago.

*******

(Five years ago)

Brigitte was sick of Reinhard always trailing her. She shook him off on a walk, disappearing into the trees while he was left on the path. He would never find her unless she wanted him to. These woods were hers, and he could not master them with his fancy words and arrogant looks. He could talk to a tree until he passed out, for all she cared. She wanted quiet and that was just what she found.

The entire woods had been silent lately, for at least week. It frightened her a little, but that fear was the only bit of excitement she had since her mother had passed. She wondered if it was a bear, a great big beast with black fur and beady eyes. She hoped it was.

"Perhaps it will eat Rein," she giggled aloud. Her fingers skittered across tree trunks as she walked.

"That's not very nice," a voice responded. She gasped and flung herself around to see human form. She leapt behind the nearest tree trunk, hiding behind it. After a moment she dared to peek around and saw the boy, crouched on a massive boulder. Behind him was a small cave.

He looked about Brigitte's age, 13. He was dirty, wiry, and clothed in only leather trousers. She bit her lip and dropped a curtsey. The boy stood in a motion so smooth it looked unreal. He gave a short bow, his wild red curls falling over his face.

He stared at her for a few moments and she tucked one leg behind the other, shyly. He was very rude to stare so, unlike Rein who was always so careful around her. Rein never misspoke or acted in the least way inappropriately.

"What's your name?" Brigitte asked to break the silence. She blushed at her own forwardness. Her father said she was like a savage woman, always speaking out of turn. But if he was going to just stare at her like that, what could she do?

"I don't have one," he said, coming towards her. She backed a step and he paused. "Will you give me one?" he smiled a little, to reassure her. Her eyes traveled his sardonic eyebrows, sharp nose and pointed chin. He looked just like a little white mutt she'd owned. He'd disappeared into the forest one day and never came back.

"Kaspar," she whispered reverently. Then for fun she picked up a stick and swatted him lightly on the head and shoulders like a knight. He frowned and caught it, snapping it in two. Brigitte winced.

"Kas-par" he said, as though he'd never heard the name before. "Thank you."

She nodded and looked down, drawing stripes in the dirt at her feet with the remains of her stick. She shouldn't be out here alone, talking to a strange boy. Her father always warned her about strange boys, as if the familiar ones were so much better.

Kaspar caught her eyes and she felt her chin lift almost involuntarily. He sank to the ground and started drawing symbols, intricate and fantastic, in the earth near her stripes. He mirrored her smile as she clapped in delight and motioned for her to sit across from him.

"What does it mean?" she asked. He picked up her hand, turning her palm up and traced a star onto it, ending with a circle around it. The dust outlined seemed to glow for a moment and his fingers felt strange.

"It means we're friends now," he offered.

"Are we?" She had never had another friend than Reinhard.

"Come visit me again!" he said, more of a command than a request.

**********

(present)

"What's the matter?" he asked. "You look frightened." he stepped closer despite the warning snort of her stallion. She hadn't even noticed her pulse was speeding. "Did that idiot say something to you? Did he touch you?" Kaspar snarled, as though reins touch was something she should despise like the plague. He pressed his pale hand against the horse's snout, his fingers like claws. Her mount stilled, eyes wide. She shook her head, unable to force her clumsy tongue to talk. "Get off the horse, Brigitte." Kaspar was not smiling now. The sharp features, once so appealing in their wolfish way, were now frightening and ugly. She did not dismount.

"I- I only came to tell you I won't be coming back. I'm marrying-" Her chin trembled and she wasn't sure if it was from fear or sorrow. "I'm marrying Reinhard and he's taking me to live with him in the city."

Kaspar was studying the earth as though it was a groundbreaking text. "You think you can just leave here, and all of this? These trees are in your soul, Brigitte."

"I told you I would never be able to stay. When my father died it was only a matter of time."

"So you could leave me just like that. For him you would go?"

There were many things Kaspar was, but a good looser was not one of them. There were times when he became wild, when his home here in the forest began to show. A few months after they'd met his jealousy came out.

**********

(five years ago)

Juice was dripping down Brigitte's chin as she tossed a few more berries into Kaspar's mouth. She laughed as one or two struck him in the chest but bit her lip at the stains they left on his clothes.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, leaping forward and wiping at him with her handkerchief. She mistook his stare for anger and tried to stand to get some water. He caught her wrist and pulled her back on her knees next to him.

"Brigitte," he breathed. His breath smelled like winter.

"I have to get back." She ripped her hand away from his and stumbled up and away. His eyes flashed like fire in the moonlight.

"Back to what? To him? He's weak and stupid like livestock or some frightened forest hare. You don't want him." Kaspar grabbed both of her wrists.

"He's sweet and kind. You wouldn't understand such things. You're just a- a- wild creature," Brigitte snapped, trying again to pull away, this time determined to run back to the safety of her castle and stay there with Reinhard. He was so much safer. Safer than Kasper who was always tracking her and waiting for her. "I'm not coming back! Not ever!"

"Don't say that! Don't you say that! You're coming back tomorrow!" He looked like a demon now and his grip was painfully tight. She let out a sob but he clenched her desperately tight. "Say you're coming back tomorrow, Brigitte. Say it or I won't let you go home," he ended, snarling. a devouring obsession burned within his eyes.

"I'll come back," she whispered. He released her and she ran to her horse, leaping onto his saddle and galloping away. She looked back as he faded behind the branches and his hand was stretched out to her, face twisted with some nameless emotion.

She turned forward, tears streaming down her wind-whipped face. Behind her a howl filled the darkness behind Kasper's lonely figure.

Kaspar raised his head and his eyes had changed, as red as fresh blood on snow. Her horse screamed and she let it run wild, away from Kaspar and the woods. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or miserable.

******

Kaspar watched her ride away for the last time. She would not be leaving him again. The dark warmth clutching his heart whenever she was near would not leave. He could see nothing and thought of nothing but her. The wolves crowded in around him, barking and snapping. He tangled his hands in their fur as his anger built. No one would take her from him.

With dusk he left his home and tracked her back to the castle. Her scent, a mixture of honey, violet, and skin, was all he could sense despite the large group of people with her. The castle struck a foreboding silhouette with the purple and yellow sky behind it. Meat was roasting on spits and breads were rising. The stink of humankind hung heavily in every room, and the sound of rustling fabrics from women's dresses was almost unbearable. It was a celebration of some sort; gaudy men and women with masks and costumes swirled and laughed, their voices like cackles. Mindless meat, they were merely obstructions to his goal.

He peeled bark off a tree to make a mask of his own and climbed up the back wall, his fingers digging into the crumbling stone, as he longed to dig into the idiot Reinhard's skull. His eyes ached as though they might burst from the intensity of his stare. Hitches rocked his breast as he moved.

Brigitte was there, standing near a window as the others cheered her future wedding. Their smiles were like grimaces, mouths painted and skin powdered in an attempt to mimic natural beauty. Her dress was a splash of red against their blacks and grays. Her dark eyes were shadowed and her face was the only one without the blush of wine and laughter.

The moonlight seemed to hug her flesh and her eyes were almost as big and bright as stars, full of unshed tears.

Reinhard, the fop of a boy, tried to take her black gloved hands, but she let them slip away. Good, she knew she didn't belong to him. She knew she was Kaspar's. She looked out at the woods and he grinned like a panting dog. her thoughts would be cursed with him, as he was cursed with her. She disappeared up the staircase. Rein stared after her, his watery blue eyes calculating and mean. He was a blockhead of a man with greasy blonde hair and meaty muscles. It was a favor to Brigitte that she would never be with him. HE saw her beauty, any fool could. He saw her wealth, that was certain. But he couldn't really see Brigitte, the person who roiled beneath her skin.

Kaspar climbed the outside of the stairwell, following her scent up the tower until they both reached the top. His eyes rolled back in his head with anticipation. it was no difficult feat to smash through the window to her. She whirled as he shattered the glass and climbed into her bedroom window. All the little pieces scattered like shimmering moonlight.

********

The howls from Brigitte's room were like the screeching of banshees. The windows shattered in the ballroom, eliciting screams from the women and even some of the men. Reinhard dropped his mask to the floor and ran up the stairs, stumbling with every step. Cold crept into his veins as he approached Brigitte's door, sensing the death of his ambitions. His lip curled back from his teeth in a dog-like snarl. The partygoers followed in trickles, darting like deer in a meadow, ready for danger. Their concerned shouts and gasps echoed up behind him, mingling with the scream of the wind. The door was barred and he pounded against it with meaty fists.

"Brigitte! Let me in! Can't you hear me? It's your Rein!" he insisted. His breath came out in short gasps. "Let me save you," he said so softly no one else could hear. then, furious, he turned on the others.

"Help me!" Reinhard shouted. A few of the men became ashamed at their own fear and removed their fine jackets and gloves. They all slashed and pounded until the door was demolished, Reinhard the fiercest of all. His white shirtw as soaked through with sweat and his face bleeding from fling splinters. His friends begged him to slow down, but his muscled could not obey. Where was Brigitte?

Reinhard struggled in through the wooden remains, shuddering at the crumpled body at the foot of Brigitte's bed. Her dress blended seamlessly with a puddle of blood leaking from an empty chest cavity. His torn up fists left streaks on her white skin. She was as lifeless as a doll and her eyes were as black as ink, wide open and staring at Reinhard accusingly. He ran to the broken window to vomit, tripping over the other body on the way. It was male, turned face-down. She'd managed to kill her attacker, at least. But of course she would, little witch. Little demon that she was, she could slay a man with a look. Reinhard felt his hands tremble on the stone window ledge. He was without a wife and utterly without fortune. This castle was all he had left, and it was going to ruins already. His friends mistook his silent pounding on the castle wall for sorrow, when in fact it was rage.

Outside at the edge of a forest was a pack of wolves, looking silently up at the window in a way that made Rein's skin itch. He snarled at them, an animal sound that must have frightened those in the room. He promised himself he would hunt them down in the morning. He knew they were laughing at him, their panting jaws moving up and down. Two of them turned and disappeared into the forest, a red one and a smaller white one. The rest followed, a swarm of light fur into the black trees.