Was he intending to monologue me to death?
“I am only speaking to you now because I still have some honour, even if you do not. If you leave, I will not pursue you. If you run, I will not chase you. You can go… live out your miserable life in peace somewhere, I do not care. But if you stay here? If you continue to disrespect our community with your presence? I will ensure you never have a moment of peace. I will have you hunted by every person in this town and I will make sure that anyone you get close to is the one leading the charge. That will be your life until the end of time.”
I heard the creak of the stairs outside the door and saw his shadow momentarily block the light that seeped in through the gap underneath.
“I will only give you one warning. Be gone by the new moon.”
His footsteps retreated down the steps, leaving me sprawled on the carpet with his words ringing in my ears. This town was my home, it had been for centuries. Even when I had left for brief times in pursuit of a cure, I always returned. I had built a life here and even now that it had crumbled away, I did not want to leave.
Why should I leave? I had as much right to this place as he did! And really, what could he do to me? Expose a dog for crimes committed decades back? I was sure the local populace would believe that. And Blair… she cared for me, certainly to an extent. She would not let me be chased away.
Rhydian was a nuisance, but he was not a particularly credible threat. He was a child with a grudge, and he was lashing out without thinking. I would not leave. He could not scare me.
****
Blair did not come upstairs that night and I spent hours pacing, wondering if Rhydian was still with her, wondering if she was hurt. By the time morning broke, I was exhausted, and my mind was a haze of concerned thoughts. The sound of footsteps on the stairs made me stiffen and I rushed to the door. Blair’s sweet scent greeted me and I was tempted to howl in relief.
She opened the door. Her hair was a bedraggled mess and she was dressed in an oversized shirt atop clearly male undergarments. My hackles rose and I had to suppress a growl.
“Hey boy,” she greeted me sleepily. “Sorry I left you up here… I didn’t expect to be gone so long.”
Blair threw herself onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a smile playing across her features. She let out a long sigh of contentment.
“I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy…”
I whined disapprovingly and came over to rest my head on the edge of the bed. She laughed softly, reaching over to tousle my ears.
“Don’t be jealous. You make me happy too. But it’s nice to have someone I can talk to… who talks back I mean. And he’s just… he’s friendly and he actually likes me for who I am!”
I like you for who you are…
She gazed at me, stroking my head in a slow rhythmic manner with a kind smile on her face. I tried to convey how I was feeling through my limited range of expression. Blair sighed softly and for a moment I wondered if she could understand, somehow. Sense maybe.
“Want to come up? I need some more sleep.”
Blair wriggled across the bed, making some space for me. I hesitated before jumping up beside her. I curled up in the narrow space next to her and rested my head on her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as she breathed. Her warmth enveloped me and I burrowed as close to her as I could.
This will only end badly.
Her arms encircled me tightly, before slowly going slack as she began to doze off.
To an extent, I could understand the appeal Rhydian held for her. Not any physical appeal but the thought of having someone there. I could empathise. After being alone for a long time, going without affection, it was easy to fall for someone who gave you that. Even if it was only a small amount.
I could not judge her for that. I was exactly the same after all.
Maybe Rhydian had found a way to hurt me after all. It was ridiculous but I had to admit it to myself. Blair meant more to me than I had ever intended.
From downstairs I heard the sound of banging. Blair stirred and let out a disgruntled noise, pulling a pillow over her head. The noise persisted. Reluctantly I wriggled free and went to the bedroom door, barking until Blair groaned and followed.
We went downstairs, the sound growing louder. It was coming from the front door, someone hammering their fist against it. Blair stopped a few feet from the door, peering out of a side window to look for the family cars. There were none. She frowned, hesitating for a moment before reaching for the handle. I felt an uncomfortable sensation stirring in my stomach and I tried to move in front of her, attempting to block her from opening it.
“What’s up boy?” she asked, hand still resting on the handle. I whined, tossing my head in distress. Blair bit her lip and went to step back. The door handle began to shake as whoever was on the other side tried to force it open. Blair stumbled back, pressing herself against the wall. I growled, crouching in front of her.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the shaking stopped. The silence that followed was deafening. Blair was breathing heavily, her hands trembling. We looked at one another, both of us waiting for… something to happen.
My ears pricked up. From the living room, I heard a long slow creak. It took me a moment to place it but steadily it dawned on me, accompanied by an icy dread that invaded my limbs, that it was the sound of a door opening.
I whipped around to face the living room. The glass doors that led to the garden were open wide, one swinging gently in the breeze. Blair followed my gaze and the colour drained from her face. She looked down at me and gestured for me to stay at her side, before slowly approaching the door. The walk across the living room felt like an endless stretch of desert.
She reached the door and pulled it towards her. It had swung halfway closed when a hand clamped hold of hers. It was one of the teenagers from the lake, the one that had tried to drown her. His hair was greasy and in disarray, his eyes wild and crazed. Half of his face was covered with a thick wad of bandages, the exposed skin around it an angry red.
“C…Connor…”
His grip on her arm tightened and he twisted it sharply, slamming her back against the glass. She let out a cry, of pain or fear I could not tell. Fury flowed through me and lunged, clamping my jaws around his arm, sinking my fangs into his flesh. He yelled and released his hold on her. I threw my weight against the boy, knocking him down onto the grass. I snarled and snapped wildly at him, not caring where I bit, just wanting to cause him pain. He tried to fend me off, covering his face with one arm. Blood flowed from the jagged wound I had caused. His fist connected with my muzzle but I refused to let it stop me.
The sound of Blair crying broke me out of the red haze that had descended on me. I gave the boy a final snarl, baring my bloodstained fangs, and ran to her side. She bundled me inside and wrenched the door shut, locking it firmly. We sprinted back upstairs to the attic, Blair slamming and locking each door, creating as many barriers between us and him as was possible.
She sank in a sobbing, gasping heap on the floor. I snuffled at her, trying to determine if she was injured. There was a bruise already forming on her wrist but as I gently nudged at it, silently querying the damage, she shook her head and pushed me away. I whimpered and sat back, concerned that her tears were from fear of me. Blair looked at me, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Thank you.” Her voice trembled and she hugged me tight. I rested my head in the crook of her neck. We sat there, the two of us holding one another in silence. Neither of us wanted to move or acknowledge what had happened. An awareness had settled on us that bad things would follow, it was inevitable. But for a time, we could forget the rest of the world existed.
BLAIR
I knew there would be consequences. Unlike the lake incident where there really was no way for Connor to lay the blame on me, here there were no such vagaries. The dog was mine, the house was my home, and the blood staining the ground outside was Connor’s. All that would come fro
m this was trouble.
The dog’s fur was stiffening as the traces of his attack began to dry. My upper arms were sticky with crimson residue, the skin tightening beneath. I was reluctant to leave the safety my room provided but I knew I couldn’t leave things the way they were. The dog looked like a creature from a horror movie and I didn’t want Nan coming home to her garden painted in shades of red.
I went to the window and looked down, scanning the backyard for signs of movement. No Connor. But that didn’t mean he was gone… I’d seen the look in his eye. He’d been crazed, beyond sense or comprehension. Who knew what he might be capable of?
I wondered if I should call the police. If he was still lurking nearby it was probably a good idea… but then every other time I’d made an effort to tell some, I’d been ignored or punished… what would make this time different?
After a moment of hesitation, I decided against making the call. First thing was to wash off the blood, then deal with the mess outside. I was eager to postpone leaving the house for as long as possible.
Gesturing for the dog to follow me, I approached my bedroom door. I faltered but the dog gently nosed my hand, attempting to comfort and reassure me. I smiled anxiously and unlocked the door.
We moved through the house slowly. Every creaking floorboard set me on edge and each shadow transformed into a phantom Connor. We went to the bathroom and I switched on the shower, locking the door securely as the room filled with steam. I bundled the dog into the shower and sat beside him, wrapping my arms around my knees and resting my head on top. I was still dressed in the clothes I’d woken up in, oversized shirt and boxers, letting the water soak into the fabric. The dog lay quietly on the tiles beside me, content to do nothing as the blood seeped from his slicked down fur and disappeared down the drain. I stroked his head, my hand trembling. I had dealt with a lot of bullying in my life but I’d never felt threatened in my own home. Connor had crossed a line and I had no idea when or what his next attempt might be.
I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes. Despite the heat of the shower, I still felt cold. What would have happened if the dog hadn’t been there? How far would Connor have gone?
There was a hiss from the pipes and the temperature began to dip. I opened my eyes and grabbed the shampoo. I carefully lathered up the dog before rinsing him off, ensuring that any trace of what had happened was gone. I then turned my attention on myself and began to vigorously scrub my arms, repeatedly smearing my skin with soap in an effort to rid them of blood that only I could see.
As I tried to clean myself up, my actions became more aggressive until I was clawing at my arms, trying to dig any last particles of dried blood from my skin.
The dog whined and carefully pushed his head under my hand, preventing me from reaching my arm. He looked up at me, his eyes wide and sad, and placed a paw on my shoulder.
Don’t. Please don’t.
I nodded and got to my feet, switching off the water. I towelled him off and wrapped myself in one before returning to the bedroom. I dried the dog off but instead of doing the same for myself, I sat down by the window in my wet clothes. The room felt like it was closing in, the walls looming over me. I looked over at the dog and bit my lip.
“I don’t think I can stay here pup… I need… I need to go away for a bit until I can… think straight. Will you be okay here?”
The dog barked and I took that as his agreement. I began to get dressed slowly, moving on autopilot. As I dumped my damp clothes in the laundry hamper, part of my mind registered that I didn’t remember changing the night before. I frowned, latching onto the piece of information in an attempt to distract myself. Had Rhydian changed my clothes? I knew the clothes belonged to the twins, most likely from the cupboard, but I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the thought of him undressing me…
I finished getting dressed and perched on the edge of the bed to do up my laces. The dog had curled up nearby and as I looked at him, I was reminded of something I had forgotten. I went to my school bag and emptied it out onto the floor. During my time in the isolation unit at school, I’d found different ways to entertain myself. One of the things I’d done was to braid some ribbons together into a loose loop and I’d slid on a small pendant from a piece of jewellery I no longer wore.
I knelt before the dog. He lifted his head and wagged his tail slightly. I carefully fastened the makeshift collar around his neck, the green ribbons standing out against his russet fur. I didn’t say anything, but I smiled at him and he seemed pleased.
“I won’t be gone too long, I promise…”
I left the room, pausing outside the door for a moment before locking the door behind me. I did the same with the door at the bottom of the attic stairs and pocketed the key. If Connor came back, I didn’t want him to hurt my dog.
When I got downstairs, I checked each of the windows in turn for any sign that he was lurking and only once I was certain, did I let myself out of the house. My steps were cautious as I crossed the garden. The stain on the pavement outside the living room doors stared lividly at me. I averted my eyes and quickened my pace.
I kept my movement brisk, my head down and my hood pulled up. Every step I took away from the house, I felt a little bit better, like a weight was slowly lifting off of me. As I walked, I clenched and unclenched my fists, focusing on my breathing as I tried to block out any errant thoughts that might upset me.
There was no sense of direction to my walk, just an overwhelming need for distance. In the end I went to the pub. I let myself in through the side entrance, into the narrow corridor that ran between the bar and the back rooms. There was a set of stairs which led up to my uncle’s apartment and I perched myself on the lower steps. The corridor was dimly lit and smelled of musty wood, bacon from the kitchen and cigarettes. The carpet was old and threadbare, a faded red with gold patterning. The walls beside the stairs were a mixture of dark panelled wood and paint, a mural that had been there since before I was born. Like everything else, it was worn and shabby which made the images depicted somewhat strange to look at. The mural depicted some old legends, but the body of the figures had paled almost beyond visibility, while the eyes remained brilliantly vivid. It was a little disconcerting to just have eyes peering down, watching.
I tucked my legs up onto the stairs, looking over the pictures with no real interest. I couldn’t help but wonder who had painted it. It was in an odd place for such a thing.
The sounds of the pub continued around me. From the kitchen came clattering as the staff prepped for the Sunday carvery. I could hear my uncle’s voice somewhere nearby and the familiar presence made me feel comfortable. I felt safer and that allowed me to begin to process the day’s event.
Now that I had some distance, the thought of telling the police returned. I had bruising from where Connor had grabbed me, which was proof after all. And maybe I could get Patrick to vouch that Connor had it out for me. My record would probably speak against me but still…
I needed a second opinion. Ordinarily one of the twins would have been my preferred choice, but at the same time I didn’t want them to do anything stupid that might get them into trouble. Uncle Noah was a good second choice but he was clearly busy. Rhydian? I wasn’t sure how he’d react. He’d handled everything else I’d told him pretty well but I didn’t want to push my luck.
I groaned and banged my head against the wall in frustration. I rubbed my neck, feeling the ridge of my scar. I felt like a child again, lost and confused, like I had that night. It wouldn’t matter if I told anyone, it never did.
Slumped in the stairwell alone, I felt very small in a world that suddenly felt much bigger.
*****
I was still in the stairwell hours later. My phone rang, breaking the silence and jerking me back to reality. I glanced at the display before answering and saw Grayson’s name displayed. Ahh… I assumed this meant they’d made it home and he probably wanted to know about the blood...
“Hi Gray…”
“What?”
“Get back now. Seriously, you need to be here. Quickly, okay?”
“I… okay.”
He hung up without another word. Confused, I left the stairwell and exited the pub. The urgency in Grayson’s voice frightened me. He didn’t sound angry, which was something I’d heard before, he sounded scared almost.
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind as I tore through the streets towards the hill. Had someone been hurt? Elian? Nan? The worst possible scenarios were playing on a loop inside my brain and I tried desperately to drown them out.
By the time I made it to the house, I was running at full speed, panting for breath as my lungs screamed in protest. Grayson was waiting at the garden gate, his face tenser than I’d ever seen it. When he saw me coming up the hill, relief washed over his expression.
“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?”
“We’re fine, just come with me.”
He led me hurriedly to the house. The door to the living room was wide open and inside were several men. Elian was there and Uncle Michael. Mr Murphy from down the road was stood looking stressed next to a few men I vaguely recognised as farmhands. Leaning against the far wall looking particularly smug was Connor, along with a man who looked like a larger version of him.
“What’s going on?”
I didn’t really need to ask. The moment I saw Connor I knew.
“Blair, where is the key to your bedroom?” Uncle Michael asked. The tone of his voice suggested they had already tried to get into the room.
“Why…?”
“This boy says you have a feral dog in your possession. Given the current animal attacks, we have to investigate,” Mr Murphy explained. He put on a gentle voice, the sort used to soothe small children.
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