by Hunter, Troy
I eventually found myself waking up in a dark, damp room. A sharp chill had attacked the back of my neck and made its way down my lower back. The sensation forced my eyes open and sent me coiling back to my knees. As I knelt, the draft hit my chest with the force of a storm wind. My eyes widened, the worst immediately coming to mind. I looked down and gasped loudly as my suspicion was confirmed.
The old man had robbed me of my clothing.
“Wha…what’s this? Where am I?” I jerked my head around, trying to find some semblance of light in the black room. Surely there was something I could use to see where I was. A lantern, perhaps. Or maybe a candle? Even a window would’ve suited me fine.
But there was nothing but unforgiving darkness.
“He-Hello? Anyone there?” My eyes weren’t going to help me, it seemed, so I had no choice but to rely on touch. I pressed my palms against the floor and rubbed my thumbs around in circles. The texture felt rough, like rock or unpolished stone. However, the floor was moist for whatever reason. Was I in a cave? A rathole?
Suddenly a droplet kissed my shoulder. I looked up to see if there was anything hovering above me. I only saw more darkness, but I couldn’t find peace with that observation. The tremor in my heart screamed it was some sort of monster, ready to swoop down and devour me whole. Be it a demon or some other unworldly creature, something was ready to kill me.
Another droplet hit the bridge of my nose, making me yelp and fall over. “P-Please! Don’t…” Once one more splashed my collarbone, I backed away as quickly as I could. Before I could get too far away, I was stopped by a hard surface blocking me from moving any further. Perhaps it was just a wall. But maybe it wasn’t. How many monsters were here ready to kill me?
Screaming, I positioned myself on all fours and crawled to the left. I was all alone in a damp room, swallowed by darkness. I couldn’t see. The only sounds I could hear were the noises stemming from my own panic. But by God I was going to escape whatever evil was trying to harm me.
I moved around five feet until I was finally stopped by another surface. This one, however, felt less like a wall and more like a fence of some kind. I slapped my jittery hands all around the structure, desperate to find a way out. The more I hit it, the more familiar the material became. Metal, possibly solid steel.
It was around that point I began to connect pieces of my situation together. I was trapped behind metal bars, like a prison cell. The droplets weren’t saliva from a heinous monster, but rather rainwater leaking from the ceiling. My clothes were missing, more than likely confiscated as evidence.
I was locked in a dungeon, awaiting either a trial or an execution.
Somehow, this epiphany frightened me more than the idea of being supper for a beast.
“Please!” I screamed, now yanking on the metal bars. “Someone, anyone! Help me!”
Apparently, my captor was nearby and very much unamused by my fear. A large rock was suddenly chucked at my head. “Silence, you peasant!”
As the stone hit my forehead, my eyesight blurred. Within seconds, I was blacking out again.
* * *
Flashes of blue, green, and yellow blinded me as my eyes fluttered open. As the blur faded from my vision, I realized the lights were coming from a wooden table across from me. It was covered in bubbling beakers, books, and cobwebs. I couldn’t tell what kind of wood the table was made from, but I cared too little about it at the time.
All that mattered to me was the wiry-haired old man standing beside the potion station, adorned in a black robe.
Eyes widening and body shivering, I slowly glanced at both my sides. I noticed I had been shackled against a stone wall, chains fastened so tightly around my wrists I could feel them grind against my bones. That explained the numbness in my arms, at least. But it couldn’t quell the dread rumbling in my stomach. What was going to happen to me?
I wasn’t entirely sure what the old man’s motivations were, trapping me in this room. I’d attempted to break into his home uninvited, that is true. But wasn’t this punishment a little bit of an overreaction? I didn’t steal anything, nor did I physically harm anyone inside this estate. A simple, “Go away or I’ll call the guardsmen,” would have sufficed, surely. But alas, this wasn’t my home and I had no right to toss my opinion about.
More than ever, my father’s words began to echo inside my head.
How I wish I would’ve stayed in Sheffield and been a farmer.
Anything would’ve been better than this.
I slowly turned my head back to face my captor, whose piercing yellow eyes were now mere inches from my face. I fretted for my life, my friends. Oh, how I fretted! “Oh no, no!” I screamed as loudly as I could. “God help me! Please God, help me!”
With a loud growl, my captor pulled a dagger from within his robe and quickly sliced into my arm. I wailed in agony and squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to pour any second. Was this how I was going to die? Was this how the story of Eustace Bertram was truly going to end?
“You’ve no right to shout, for ‘twas you who broke into my home. My castle.”
My eyes forced themselves open as a loud chink rang in my right ear. I swallowed my breath at the realization that my captor had shoved the dagger into the wall centimeters away from my head. What old man, seemingly eighty or eighty-five years of age, would have the strength to crush stone like that?
At that point, nothing could stop the sadness from bursting out of my eyes. “I-I’m so sorry, milord. Please f-forgive me. I didn’t come here to rob you or your kinfolk. I-I just wanted to get out of the storm. I promise.”
The old man growled once more and smacked me hard in the face.
I screamed loudly, mere crying now hysterical sobbing. Why was this happening to me? Why couldn’t anything ever go the way I wanted it to? Just once, I’d like things to go swimmingly.
Just once.
“Stop sniveling, boy. I can’t focus when my subject is screaming like a woman in heat.” I held my breath in a desperate attempt to halt my sobs. What was this lunatic talking about? What did he mean by “subject”?
“M-My apolo…”
“Quiet!”
I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to ignore the endless waterfall of tears streaming down my face.
However, this proved to be quite difficult when the old bastard began to grab at various bits of my body. First, he rubbed his hand over my flat stomach, commenting briefly on my sufficient diet. Then he brought his hands up and pressed them against my upper chest, grinning when he felt my heartbeat. “Strong heart. Nice.”
He then slid his hands back down, this time past my stomach. At first, he seemed to be focusing on my hip-bones, poking my side with his index finger. “Nice and strong. Far superior to that of a decrepit old man.” Much to my horror, he began to drag his fingertip to an even lower portion of my body. Once he grabbed hold of my genitals, all attempts to stall my panic ceased.
“Ah! Please stop this, please. Just let me go. Let me go!”
The old man gave my face another slap with his free hand. “I said quiet, you sodding lout.”
I wasn’t able to obey his wishes this time, for my nerves were shot, the ends completely frayed. I thrashed around in my chains as my sanity packed its bags and left the country. Sick of my quivering fear, my captor suddenly squeezed my testicles hard. This understandably triggered another loud, much more frantic scream.
If there was truly a God watching over me, I begged that he save me.
Please, free me from this nightmare.
“I will end you if you do not be quiet. Be a man and face me like a true wolf would.”
My sobs began to die down slightly when I heard that rather strange statement. A true wolf? What did that even mean? What was this man trying to do, exactly?
My next words came out in a hoarse whisper. “L-Like a…true wolf?”
The lunatic ignored me that time around, more interested in examining my nether-regions than he was slapping me ar
ound. Either I had tested his patience a little too much or he simply hadn’t heard me. Regardless of why, I found myself relieved when he finally let go of me and dragged his hand down to my leg.
“You do a lot of running, boy?”
I swallowed my incoming breath.
“N-Not really, my lord. Mainly just walking from place to place.”
He nodded to himself, as if he were confirming some kind of internal suspicion. His hand finally reached the end of my body, my clubfoot. “Gods, your foot is in poor condition. Care to explain what happened?”
My eyes widened, and I took a quick breath. “N-Nothing, my lord. I-I was born with a clubfoot.”
He looked up at me, expression sharp as glass. “Clubfoot? A clubfoot. Are you telling me the truth?”
I took another breath. “Y-Yes. I-I’ve always had it, since I was a newborn.”
The disbelief on his face was evident as he then brought his face closer to my foot. He looked all around it, probably to confirm my testament. When he found nothing that contradicted me, he began looking all over it again at a faster pace.
“The Adelbrechts aren’t investing any money in doctors nowadays, then?”
I bit my bottom lip, confusion written in my face. It became clear that this man had me mistaken for someone else entirely. “The Adelbrechts? A-Are they supposed to be people I know? I’m just a failed violinist, my lord.”
His eyes widened as he quickly returned to his feet. What I said must have shocked and confused him profusely, as he then began to pace around the room like a manic animal. “You’re lying. You must be. No other with your affliction would know to come here.”
Affliction?
Is he talking about my clubfoot?
“What are you talking abou…”
“Your affliction, boy. Your affliction. Your ability to shift into a wolf. Surely, you’ve got that power, otherwise you wouldn’t have sought me out in this storm.”
I shook my head hard. Just what kind of insane daydream have I stumbled upon? Why was this maniac going on about wolves? “No, sir! I-I don’t have the ability to shift into a wolf. That’s completely mental.”
He screamed loudly and delivered multiple punches to my face in a belligerent rage. “You’re a liar! Liar! Nobody seeks out the great Elias Adelbrecht unless they share the curse. No mortal man simply stumbles into Stagwood Grove for shelter. Nobody. Nobody!”
This beating continued for what seemed to be ten minutes, though I’m sure it wasn’t quite that long. At that moment, simply blinking seemed to take five seconds longer than normal. Once the old man, Elias Adelbrecht, as he’d called himself, finished his tantrum, he took a step back to regain his composure.
I breathed slowly and roughly, spitting blood onto the floor. My breathing began to pick up again once I heard what sounded like a dark chuckle from my captor.
“You’re stronger than I thought. Anyone else would’ve already choked on their own life essence and expired right where you stand.”
With as hard as the old man hit, I had no doubt he spoke from experience.
“Perhaps you could prove useful to me after all, boy. What’s your name?”
I let out a single sob.
“E-Eustace. Eustace…Bertram.”
Elias nodded. “I am Elias Adelbrecht, but I suppose you knew that already.” He chuckled wickedly and started to pace back and forth in front of me. “I once had an interest in the arts as well, you know. Not so much music, however. More so paintings from the Baroque era. Caravaggio and Rembrandt were among my favorite artists of the time. In my youth, I told myself that I’d one day be just as good as they were. Alas, these were merely childish dreams that faded away with age.”
Indeed.
I knew that story far too well.
“No, my interests lay with the more obscure and far less…chosen path, so to speak. I grew up to be a man of science. A man of the universe and all that it had to offer. By the age of thirteen, I proved to be among the brightest in my class. My fellow students felt intimidated by my prodigal brilliance. My teachers saw me as a promising scholar, one that would bring about societal progression through my many discoveries.”
Elias certainly wasn’t one to downplay his achievements, it seemed.
“Helping my cause even more was my lineage, that of an Adelbrecht. In ancient times, my earliest ancestors were afflicted with a curse. It was a beautiful curse, one that brought all enemies to their knees. Many an Adelbrecht fought in wars throughout the ages. Many an Adelbrecht served a valuable purpose in invoking the soul of the wolf to help them in their time of great desperation. Indeed, my bloodline was powerful. My bloodline was great. But then, the great heathen known as King Charles I decided to outlaw my family’s people. He proclaimed that wolves among men were obscene, an abomination. That vile cretin launched a countrywide witch-hunt against us.”
The memory seemed to strike a nerve as he repeatedly launched his fists into the wall by my head.
“Fools! Every last one of them. I tried to save my people by bringing about retribution to all the wolf-slayers running rampant through England. And what did I get in return? I was exiled from the family, cast away into isolation. My work, discredited. My legacy soiled. My power sapped from my blood, dooming me to remain a mortal man for the rest of my days. Even Maria, the owner of my heart, even she turned against me. Curse them. Curse them all!”
Once he was finished unleashing his fury on the wall, he took a couple of deep breaths before looking at me again. “They might’ve erased my name from history, but I never stopped being a scientist. Oh no. I continued to experiment for many more years. The zealots robbed me of my shifting abilities and I’ve been working my hardest to take that power back. For once my connection to the Great Wolf is restored, so is my immortality.” He poked his index finger into my chest. “You. You claim to not be a shifter. That may just be what I need to complete the next step in my experiment. After all, it would be mad for me to use myself as a test subject. Let me free you from those chains.”
My eyes widened, panic returning in full force. “W-Wait a minute. Wh-What are you doing?”
Elias ignored my pleas and unlocked my shackles. Once I was free, he grabbed my arm and dragged me to his potion station.
“Wait. Stop! I don’t want to be an experiment, let me go!”
With his unnatural strength, he tossed me onto the floor and stomped his foot into my stomach, cracking my ribs. As he pinned me down, I saw him reach for a flask from his table, one filled with fluorescent yellow fluid. Elias then crouched down and shoved the flask into my mouth, forcing the liquid down my throat. The chemicals were tasteless but hot like molten lava. I could barely breathe as the fluid scorched my throat to a crisp. And as I downed the mysterious liquid, Elias chanted some strange incantation in a language I couldn’t pinpoint.
Once I’d completely swallowed the contents of the flask, a great pain began to surge through my body. Describing it is difficult. The best I can offer is that it started off feeling like a million needles pricking my flesh. From that point, it began to feel more like my muscles were forcing themselves outside my skin. Then came the bone pain, good heavens, the bone pain! I wailed like a man being viciously murdered as the pain proved to be so intense, I nearly vomited the very chemicals I just drank. I was completely powerless, in pain so immense I couldn’t even move.
I continued to scream until a noticeable distortion made itself present in my voice.
One so prominent that my human wails started to alter into bestial whines and howls.
6
A Budding Friendship
Kenneth
Present Day Stagwood Grove, Winter 1874
The poor wolf nervously watches as I draw his hot bath. I have no doubt in my mind it’s the first normal bath he’s received in a long time. As adamant as the Norrises are about his timid nature, they certainly don’t seem to concern themselves much with his care. I suppose my great-uncle hadn’t much investment in th
e wolf’s well-being, at least not enough to command his servants to tend to his needs. Of course, this implies that this chap is old enough to have known Elias Adelbrecht personally.
This notion I had much doubt in.
“You’re free to step in whenever you like, you know.”
The creature slowly looks up at me, his grey eyes watering as he faintly whines. I have to wonder how hard a life this wolf had to have endured. A stranded cub, forever wandering the desolate area of Stagwood Grove. Nobody’s ever mentored him and no other lycans have made contact with him until now. My heart aches for him. After all, it’s one thing to willingly isolate yourself from others and another to be lost with no one to guide you.
‘Don’t worry. The water’s much safer than the rain outside.” I chuckle softly, trying to lighten the mood. “If I’m wrong, then you’re free to take a bite out of my hand. Would serve me right for being such an ass to you before.”
The wolf looks down at the floor and stares at it for a moment. I can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since he last laughed.
Is there anything in Stagwood Grove that even remotely comes across as funny? The endless supply of cobwebs isn’t very amusing. None of the paintings or sculptures decorating the estate are ugly enough to mock. The Norris family certainly isn’t funny.
The only thing I can think of that’s made me snicker is the destroyed tower outside.
Even then, I only find it amusing in a relatively dark sense.
The wolf then looks back up at me and gives his chops a quick lick. I can only assume this means he eagerly accepts my deal. Cheeky little bastard, isn’t he?
“Alright, let’s not get too excited now. You have to step into the bathtub before you’re allowed to decide which part of my hand you want.”
The brown wolf steps toward the tub, stopping at the edge. His gaze shifts between his front feet and the steaming water. “Yes, the bath is nice and hot,” I comment playfully. “What kind of monster would set you up with an ice-cold bath in January? You have to give me more credit than that.”
