by Mark Hockley
THE HUNT BEGINS
He would have liked to have kissed her. Just once, full on the lips.
Strange emotions and desires stirred involuntarily but powerfully within him. And he would have done it too, if she had not awoken.
Her beautiful eyes regarded him oddly, full and bright and Jack felt hypnotised. "Hello," she said sitting up quickly, as if a little unsure.
"Eh, hello," Jack replied, keeping his voice as even as he could.
"Should you be in here?" she enquired with just a hint of suspicion, although she seemed less apprehensive now she had heard him speak.
"Well," began Jack, stumbling over his words, "well, you see, I didn't mean to, but, well, I'm a guest here you see, that is, I'm here for the Ball!" He fiddled with one of the drapes around the bed nervously.
The girl's blue eyes narrowed slightly and she gazed at him for several moments, as if she were deciding something. "I see," she said finally, "perhaps we should introduce ourselves then." With this she got up from the bed and faced him. "My name is Lisa Begierde and I'm very pleased to meet you."
Jack eyed her sceptically. He already knew this name from Tom's account of his ordeal in the caves of Rith-ran-ro-en, and he wasn't really sure of the best way to proceed. "So, you're Tom's friend," he said almost in a whisper.
Lisa smiled brightly. "Do you know Tom?"
Jack grunted. "Of course I know him. He's my best friend." He paused for a moment and then added rather reluctantly. "My name's Jack by the way."
At this, the girl chewed her lip absently as if uncertain once more. Jack watched her very closely, her large eyes like shining pools of blue light. "Is Tom here too?"
"Well," Jack started awkwardly, his ability to string sentences together in the presence of this girl greatly impaired. "He is, yes, somewhere, but I don't know what's happened to him. We got, sort of, separated. And now I can't find him." For a few difficult seconds he considered telling her everything that had happened since they came to the house, but then quickly dismissed the idea. He didn't understand why, but this girl put him on edge somehow. "What are you doing here anyway?" he questioned, deciding he should find out how much she knew of what was going on, and why she was alone in a house full of people in wolf masks!
Lisa smiled as sweetly as could be. "I didn't feel very well," she explained, "so I came to lay down for a while. I'm feeling much better now though."
Jack shook his head slowly, confused. "Are you a guest here then?"
"Yes, I was invited to the Ball, just like you."
"But don't you know what's going on here?" Jack blurted, his eyes wide.
Lisa stared at him blankly. "What do you mean?"
Jack sighed. According to Tom this girl had saved him in the caves and he seemed to think highly of her, but could she be trusted? Or was it all just another trick? "Listen," he said at length, trying to make the best of a bad situation. "I've got to find Tom and someone else who's missing, another friend of ours. Will you help me?"
With a full, open smile, Lisa nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I will. It'll be just like hide and seek!"
"That's right," agreed Jack, becoming irritated, "but you'd better just watch out who you find!" He walked over to the doorway and listened closely, still afraid that the thing that had chased him might be lurking somewhere outside. "Are you sure you haven't seen, well, anything unusual?" he asked, glancing back.
"Nothing that shouldn't be here," she told him with a casual air.
The house was like a maze. I might never get out of here, Tom decided, tired and dejected. He was making his way downward as best he could, although stairs leading either up or down were difficult to locate. He had just descended a flight of steps, but he had no idea of how many floors the house might have. Also, his memory concerning the layout of the place was very hazy and he couldn't even recall if they had climbed any stairs at all when he and Jack had been taken to their room.
Wearily, he turned another corner and there in front of him, after what seemed like hours of aimless wandering, was something that looked very much like an elevator, the numerals one to six displayed above two large metallic doors. Almost without thinking, he pressed a rounded black button on the wall and waited.
What if, when it stops, someone's inside?
A humming noise from above made him squirm with indecision. If someone was inside, could he possibly bluff his way through? After all, he was supposed to be a guest. But hadn't all of the other so-called guests been wearing the mask of a wolf? No, they were all in it together and if he was caught they wouldn't let him go.
But the Wolf let me go. Why?
Had he really faced the White Wolf and escaped? Nothing seemed to make any sense.
With a soft thud, the elevator came to a halt and with a low hiss, the doors slid open to reveal an empty compartment.
And what if someone had been inside? he asked himself again. I could always have run! But the truth was he had lost control of the situation and he couldn’t allow that to happen again. He might not be so lucky next time.
Stepping inside quickly, he scanned the buttons to the right of the doors and pressed the one marked G. He hoped it stood for Ground floor, but in this world nothing was ever as it seemed. The automatic doors shut and he began a slow descent, a tingling sensation passing through his body. More quickly than he expected the elevator came to a dead stop and he stepped out into a large foyer which to his relief was quite deserted. I'm really pushing my luck he told himself ruefully, but his position left him with almost no alternative. A forlorn hopelessness tormented him, the knowledge that both Mo and Jack could be absolutely anywhere in the enormous house making his erratic search to find them seem almost pointless.
He hesitated before electing to go to his right, neither direction revealing anything to favour one above the other. Is the Wolf still here? he found himself wondering. Tom knew that the Beast was quite merciless and that it would do anything to win. But what was the game?
Moving as swiftly and as quietly as he could, he turned a corner into another hallway, although this one was much shorter and wider than the others he had encountered, velvet cushioned chairs lined along both walls. Distantly there was the sound of many voices and Tom realised he must be close to the great hall he had seen with Jack. He went on more slowly and as he came to the end of the passage, he tentatively poked his head around the corner and saw to his left a massive archway only a few yards further on, protected by two vast white doors. To his right there was a smaller doorway which was slightly ajar.
From the commotion that came from beyond the huge entrance, this was definitely the location of the Huntsmen's Ball and standing in front of it, as if on guard, was a very tall man, his ebony skin highlighting large blue eyes. Tom withdrew his head sharply, fearful of being seen. But really, whatever he did he was likely to be discovered, either by someone approaching from behind or by someone coming through the door to his right. He shot another quick look at the man and noted his peculiar clothing; long white socks up to his knees with green pantaloons, a richly embroidered blue waistcoat and most striking of all, a white wig like judges might where upon their heads. Before the man was a small wooden table on top of which was a neatly stacked pile of objects, but Tom couldn't tell what they were.
As he stood there debating his next move, two figures emerged from the smaller doorway and squatting down quickly, Tom watched them pass directly in front of him, but their eyes appeared to be set straight ahead, so he went unnoticed.
It was an elderly man and a boy, perhaps a year or so older than himself, and he peeked around the corner to watch them come to a halt before the tall man at the door, who bowed before handing them both an object from the table. Tom watched with fascination as both the man and boy placed what they had been given over their faces and tied a cord behind their heads.
So that's what they are. Wolf masks!
Bowing once more, the tall man then took hold of two large golden handles and pulled th
e doors open, momentarily releasing the tremendous buzz of the congregation within. The hallway seemed to become full of light, flashing and dancing across the walls and Tom had to blink as the doors were closed again, the new guests eagerly received.
For a few long moments he deliberated, wondering what he should do. But again he soon came to realise that he had few options.
So with his heart beating very fast and giving himself no chance to change his mind, Tom casually stepped out into the open, in full view of the guardian of the doorway.
Are all girls as slow as this?
Jack marched briskly along a dim hallway with Lisa dawdling along behind. He was beginning to wish he had left her where he had found her. Briefly, he recalled his first glimpse of her, sleeping peacefully on the bed, her beautiful face serene and beguiling. It would have been nice to have kissed her. Jack shook his head and increased his speed. "Come on," he called gruffly over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.
Lisa had to almost trot to keep up. "Don't worry," she said, a little out of breath, "I'm still with you."
"I wish you wasn't," muttered Jack, not really understanding why he was so annoyed with her.
They made their way along yet another corridor, Jack striding purposefully, trying to appear calm and in control, though really, in his heart, he was both lost and very afraid.
I'm never going to find them. I don't even know where to start looking.
"Jack," Lisa said at his side now and he stopped, turning impatiently toward her, his face flushed, his frustration obvious. "Where are we going?" She spoke very softly, her eyes showing concern.
"I'm looking for Tom, I already told you that!" Jack said, more angrily than he had intended. He looked at her for a moment and turned away. "What did you think I was doing?"
Lisa touched her lip with a finger. "Where do you think he is then?"
Jack became angrier still, a hot sweat breaking out over his body. "How should I know?" he said shortly, "if I knew that, I wouldn't be looking for him, would I?"
Lisa smiled good-naturedly. "Well, I think I know where he might be."
Jack gave her a sharp glance. "Oh," he uttered caustically, "well, that's all right then, isn't it?"
Whether the girl recognised the sarcasm in his voice he couldn't say, for she showed no sign, one way or the other. Suddenly, taking his hand in hers, the contact sending a peculiar sensation running through him, Lisa began to lead him back the way they had come.
"What are you doing?" he objected.
"If I were playing hide-and-seek, I know where I would hide."
With a tired sigh Jack allowed her to pull him along, his hand snugly in hers, the softness of her skin against his making him feel suddenly timid. He could have argued with her, but then, what was the point? He had no idea where to look or what to do. Going with her couldn't do any harm, and a part of him, a new, alien part of his being, told him with absolute authority that he was entirely content to go wherever she led, as long as his hand was in hers. "Where are we going anyway?" he questioned without any real conviction.
Lisa squeezed his hand and smiled. "Deep into the heart of dreams," she whispered gently.
Jack said no more. It didn't really seem to matter.
They came to a staircase that wound deep into the house and just for a second, he wondered if this was such a good idea, the notion passing like smoke across his mind.
Lisa's grip tightened and then she was leading him down, to where he supposed Tom hid from them, all part of the game.
Impassive eyes were upon him. Trying to appear both formal and yet friendly, Tom walked toward the dark skinned man and as he did, his composure slowly began to desert him. He felt absolutely positive that the man knew full well who he was, that at any moment those massive hands would reach out and grab him. And then it would all be over. No more subterfuge. No more Tom.
But surely if the Wolf had wanted him dead, it would have already done that itself when Tom had been at its mercy. No, the Beast had other plans for him.
He faced the towering figure of the man, his palms sweaty. The urge to turn and run was becoming too powerful to ignore, anything to escape the man's forbidding stare. But to run, he knew, would be to admit his fear and that he would not do, for his friend's lives might depend on him now. So boldly, he took a step forward and nodded, hoping he gave an impression of confident assurance.
With an abrupt movement that made Tom start, the man reached for a mask and held it out toward him, and plucking it from the outstretched palm, he quickly fastened it in place.
Silently, the guardian opened the great doors and Tom walked inside, now just one more wolf amongst many.
Somewhere, prowling through the house, a lithe, hunched figure searched for its prey. The boy had, temporarily, managed to elude the creature. But I'll find you. It’s only a matter of time.
It stalked along a dingy hallway, long fingernails brushing against the carpet. Its arms hung low to the ground like those of an ape, but its face was that of a demon born of nightmare, an elongated tongue, forked and as black as coal, flicking in and out as it moved.
Its nostrils flared and once more it caught the boy's scent, so delicious and stimulating and it quickened its pace, creeping stealthily onward, anticipation burning within its squat, leathery frame. "I'll have you," it hissed, smirking.
The spoor of its quarry led it on. Foolish children must learn hard lessons.
Imagining what was to come, the creature's body convulsed with pleasure. It hardly
mattered that another, different scent, had now allied itself to the one it pursued. What had to be done, would be done.
A question formed in his mind and he wanted to voice it, but messages from his head to his body were no longer being relayed, his thoughts held prisoner.
What am I doing?
The answer came easily enough. I'm trying to find Tom and Mo.
Was this another dream?
Lisa led him along a hallway, the walls decorated with oval portraits of sickly looking children, their pallor reminding him morbidly of corpses. Coming upon a large metallic door, the girl took the handle firmly in her free hand and opened it. "This is the place," she told him as they went inside, closing the door behind them.
It was a storage-room of some kind, but other than a wine rack containing a few bottles, the only object within was a large mechanical apparatus that Jack guessed was some form of generator.
"What is that?" he mumbled, finding his voice at last, though it was barely above a whisper.
Lisa glanced at the machine without any real interest. "It powers everything in the house."
Jack looked the generator over and although he could not place why, felt that something about it was wrong. It just didn't look right, not that he was any authority on such machinery, but there was something. His eyes settled on a dial that measured the voltage and he saw that at its greatest, its output was 50,000 volts.
"It seems very new," he said vaguely, shining metal reflecting his drawn face back at him. I look terrible he thought and smiled weakly. "Why would Tom be down here anyway?" he asked Lisa, not wanting to look at himself any longer, the image unsettling him somehow.
She looked around the room, almost as if she expected Tom to pop out of hiding at any moment. "I was sure he would be down here," she said with disappointment.
A scratching noise from the other side of the metal door caught Jack's attention and he pulled away from Lisa, listening carefully.
The sound at the door stopped and he glanced at the girl rather uneasily. "Did you hear that?" he questioned, gesturing toward the door.
Tilting her head to one side, she shook her head. "I can't hear anything."
Slowly, Jack edged toward the doorway and placed his ear against the cool metal. There was no sound, only his own breathing. Could he be imagining things? He supposed this would not be so unlikely, considering all that had happened.
Turning back to Lisa he was about
to suggest they searched somewhere else, but to his utter amazement, she was no longer there. He spun around, looking frantically around the room, but there was nowhere she could have gone to. There was only one exit and there was nowhere to hide.
Glancing over at the generator, Jack checked to make certain that Lisa was not hiding behind it somehow, but the machine was flush against two walls, securely fixed in the corner of the room.
"I don't believe this!" he said aloud, still scanning every inch of the room. He went over to the wine rack and fiddled with a few of the bottles. Maybe there's a secret passage. It wouldn't surprise me in a place like this. Tugging at the wooden rack, just in case there was a hidden door behind it, Jack discovered that it too was fixed in place. He shook his head in dismay. Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the one who's mad!
At the door, the scratching began again and without thinking, frustration and bewilderment clouding his mind, Jack marched over and flung it open.
"Found you," grinned the hunched creature, squatting just outside the doorway. Jack stumbled backward, absolute terror registering on his face. "You've led me a merry chase, boy," it breathed, gurgling slightly. "But now I have you."
If I shut my eyes, it will go away.
"Time to die," snarled the thing and it seemed to shiver with delight.
Turning to run, Jack realised too late that he was caught in a perfect trap. In the shadows of the doorway the creature came and stood, its long, sinuous arms dangling to the ground, fingers working, its black eyes fixed on the boy. "Dwell on this, boy, as you await your death," it rasped, leering madly. "You are the last. Your friends are gone, flesh for the master's throne. Now, you will join them."
Stinging tears crept helplessly down Jack's face. "No," he whispered.
And then with lightning speed, the demon came at him, saliva dripping from its jagged fangs, greed in its soulless eyes.
Immense columns of marble and magnificent chandeliers dominated the great hall and as Tom walked among the gathering, he marvelled at the huge tapestries that hung on several of the walls, scenes from the hunt depicted there in loving detail. Bloodthirsty bunch! Tom thought wryly, but the truth was that he was absolutely petrified, the fear of being discovered suffocating in its intensity. He was relieved to see that not all of the guests wore the attire of the hunt, some more casually dressed and he prayed that he would blend in and not seem too conspicuous.
As he moved amongst them, he passed by small groups huddled together in conversation or sipping drinks, whilst others danced to music played by a string quintet. He didn’t seem to be attracting any undue attention and this at least helped him to relax just a little.
On the far side of the hall, someone clapped their hands together and the music ceased. The dancers stopped and drew apart and Tom saw the small man they had met at the gateway step forward onto a small stage, everyone seeming to regard him expectantly. "It draws near the time," he proclaimed, his voice raised so that all could hear. "The time to bless our Master. And even though he cannot be here with us, his spirit prevails." There was rapturous applause which Tom quickly joined in with. "As light approaches, we prepare for The Hunt!" At this there was enthusiastic cheering and more clapping and waving his hand to quiet them, the speaker continued. "As you are all aware, we have with us some very special guests." An excited buzz went through the crowd and Tom began to fidget nervously, but no-one appeared to look his way. "It is as the Master said it would be," smiled the man on the stage, "and very soon we shall have our reward." He raised a glass. "Let us toast our Lord! Praise be to the master of dreams, praise be to the Wolf who is white!"
All there lifted a glass and repeated these last words with a passionate fervour and Tom realised with an unpleasant lurch of his stomach that apparently he was the only one who didn't have a glass.
The small man beamed benevolently at his audience. "We hunt in the name of our Master. Bring back the flesh and bone of the hunted for his sake. And he shall give you eternal delight!"
A great cheer rose up from all those assembled, like the baying of wild animals and a feeling of horror almost overwhelmed Tom, an urgent desire to run from that place there and then screaming to be obeyed, for their cries were barbaric, as brutal as the beasts they resembled.
"Now ready yourself for the Hunt, my dear friends," called their spokesman joyously. "There is a game to be played and the prey is ready to run. Look closely and root out the fox amongst the hounds! Send him on his way." The man pointed a stubby finger and Tom instinctively knew that it was he who had been singled out, even before every mask turned in his direction, their hungry eyes upon him.
He ran, pushing his way past one body after another, racing desperately on toward the beckoning doorway, but in his heart he knew that he was lost.
Yet no-one stood in his way and coming to the great doors, they opened for him as if they had awaited his departure and out through them Tom bolted, passing the tall doorman who only watched his flight silently, unmoving. With legs pumping and heart pounding furiously, all Tom longed for was to be out of that terrible, depraved house, to be free again and as if to answer his wishes, ahead of him he saw another open door and beyond it benign daylight. Into a new day he flew and he did not look back.
In the crowded ballroom, the small man raised his glass once more and laughed fiercely. "Praise be, for The Hunt begins at last!"
And all there cried aloud with a deafening roar. "Praise be!"
