That night, I dreamt of feral monsters. I envisioned a towering beast with gnashing fangs snapping at my lanky limbs as if it longed to taste my bones. First, its strikes were aimed at my legs and I'd narrowly escaped by jumping back just out of the beast's reach. Though I screamed, there came no sound - only the chilling snarl of the beast howling in the back of my skull. I fervently turned in the darkness - spinning and spinning to no avail. My eyes couldn't adjust to the black no matter how I squinted. Beside me. Behind. No matter where I looked there was no creature until it decided to lurch forward, its fangs aiming now for my arms. There came a noise. A sound only metal could make.
My knuckles were white from how tightly my fingers clutched the hilt of my personalized blade. A gift from Mr August many months ago. Pig, I called it. The curved edge and hooked tip warred with the slavering maw and yellowed teeth that chewed upon it. My hands became wet with spittle, my face more fierce as I tried to hold my ground. Perhaps this cur realized that in a war of strength, I would always lose. Pig was pulled from my desperate fingers and tossed, soundlessly, into the pitch-dark abyss.
I was going to die. I could see it in the reflection of the creature's petal pink eyes. Eyes that eerily reminded me of my guardian. Mr August couldn't hear me and that meant neither could Mr Ajax. I would die here and they wouldn't even know.
"Anna Lee." I heard that name echo raspily in this hellscape over and over again until the whispers faded. My muscles felt like stone and my body was equally heavy with fear. I trembled with it until I was certain my knees would fail. I attempted to wipe away the pearl of tears that streamed down my cheek with the back of my sleeve. Why me? "Miss Juliet." A different voice. A familiar voice. Another series of echoing whispers had me screaming - again - into that soundless dark. Where were they? Where was the beast? "I'm coming in, Miss Juliet." Iron hinges groaned but all I could hear was the heavy pant of the beast as it lunged and swiped out with its claws.
There was light all around me, bright and blinding as I woke. I shucked the blanket from me with a heaving breath. A chill traced my body and pierced my veins as I looked at the bandage that ensnared my leg. Brown eyes widened with that revelation, the reality that the beast was real. I had fought it. I had lived. Panting breath pulled me back to the reason why I had escaped the dark, the beast. I glanced at the door and felt the sting of tears begin to make his silhouette a blur. "Papa." The name was soft, almost a sob of relief because the beast didn't get him. He was ok. He was alive - we were alive. "What... happened?" I asked while wiping away the start of my tears.
For perhaps too long he merely lingered in the hall, leaning to the wall just outside her door as ears turned back to listen for the sound of one waking from an induced slumber. Ajax had done what was necessary though it was never something that should have arisen in the first place. She never should have been placed into the face of danger, a wolven beast should have been taken care of long ago. Yet it had been granted freedom, chances to run wild in avoidance of turning to outside substance in hopes of subdual… but even that didn’t work as planned. Dosage had perhaps been overly cautious. Enough to retain a touch more of his mind than in moons past but once it’d been purged in vile mixture a monster regained its control.
Drawn sigh escaped his lungs as fingers drew over rosen hues, pressing firmly as pressure bid a world into temporary darkness. There had at least come assurance. Promise that any injuries were treated to the best of the vampiric keepers abilities. Juliet thankfully suffering nothing more than a rake of claws, another session would likely seal the injury completely to leave nothing but faint traces against her flesh. Even that would be too much left behind though - relatively speaking - she was fine, she was alive and held no threat of turning into the very monster she unknowingly dwelt beside. A single positive yet there was far too much wrong with this whole ordeal.
He should leave her to sleep. Allow her time to herself though no matter how often he thought of granting her peace in these moments, those paces never strayed. Instead digits fell from his features as steadily the light returned to him. Sights cast toward the barrier of her room in silent contemplation. Even if she did not desire the company it couldn’t hurt to at least check on her right? The entirety of a mind was held. He was in control instead of some slavering creature. There was no risk of inflicting harm in this state. She would be safe, no matter how thoughts attempted to war against reason. He would check in on her. If she wished him to leave she need only say so, none would be forced to suffer his presence.
Steeling himself for what may come lyrics called out in warning before the steady creak of that final blockade sounded in protest. The softness of his gaze holding upon the girl as she appeared to dart from the false protection of blankets, her chest heaving as those eyes trailed to the careful binds about her limb. Fear radiated from her quarters long before a door had opened, it seeped through the cracks of its frame and bled to the very hall he’d stood. But here? In here it was a suffocating presence, one which brought him to freeze the moment that glimmering stare met him. No. It wasn’t her terror which stopped him dead in his tracks but that gentle voice.
Papa. A title that was not deserved in the slightest. No matter how he relished in the sound of it, how it brought the slow droop of his ears to perk and the tiredness of those rosen sights to brighten… she shouldn’t refer to him with such a calling. It was wrong to. None that inflicted harm held any right to such tender address. Then it came, that question he knew would rise. Hesitance bringing him to silence as fangs pinched to the inner flesh of his cheek, pressing until the faint taste of blood ran over his tongue. August wished to give way to the truth, he should grant it. Juliet deserved to know. Deserved the option to hate - to fear - what could not be controlled. Hell, even he dreaded the call of the moon and yet he still should have found a way. A more permanent method of locking away an undesirable beast on such nights.
Careful step carried him to her bedside, “A monster was loose in the house but it has been taken care of… I will ensure something like that does not happen again.” Stronger dosage, something to subdue a creature’s fury. No matter the costs. So long as Juliet was never again savaged by one foolishly trusted. Breath fell in steadied sigh as he looked to her. Asking lightly with the slow gesture of a hand, hoping to brush away the salted trail leaking down her visage. Take it into the silken touch of partial glove before gradually drawing back if she had not already.
Motion steady, unhurried, attempting not to flinch upon the agonizing radiation of silver’s puncture as it flared with new life. A sharp pulse echoing against nerve endings to travel the length of an arm and tightening the shoulder. It was deserved. More than this was, more than just the violent sparks of pain that threatened to bring a body to shake as even those minute fragmentations seared flesh. More than the budding warmth of heat as fever sought to claim him. More than the accursed nausea that twisted in his throat.
Feeling he swallowed back as lyrics fell in near whisper, “Are you alright, Miss Julie?” He already knew the answer. It was a question he never needed to ask and yet still it slipped from his tongue. Physically, no. Her flesh lay marred. Mentally? Judging from the way her eyes teared and the rushing pulse of her heart, also no. She wasn’t alright and it was all his fault. It ate away at the mind, it only encouraged the festering notion to leave but seeing her like this kept his feet planted.
There was a plethora of knowledge still locked away far beyond the reach of my youthful fingers. Unlike my guardian, the artisanal craft of vocal structure eluded me. Proper sentences and articulation. Like him, I didn't know how to properly brandish a blade or a spear. The art of war and its many tactics hastily trickled from my hands like fine sand before I could grasp an understanding. So much couth and diplomacy went into dealing with those of the court who paraded the title of nobility. I could barely lower myself into a proper curtsey. While my education may have failed to teach me about the world and its intricacies, there was one thing I knew like the milky pale skin on the back of my hand. Such wicked familiarity that I had shaken with fear in front of it.
Monster.
I watched as my guardian approached the comfort of my bedside and I'd do nor say anything to halt his approach. No, if anything, I longed for his soothing words that often chased away these ill-gotten terrors or even the warmth of his hand as it gave comforting strokes along the berth of my back. He was always so careful, so tender. It was no wonder that I found sanctuary in his presence. While it had taken time, I no longer flinched at the sound of his voice or the touch of his hand. In fact, I leaned into his quiet askance and allowed him to wipe away the evidence of my emotional turmoil.
Being raised in a hovel of wicked violence, a child learned to be hyper-aware of those around them. So it was that I noticed the way he flinched with movement in his arm and my thoughts roved to the monstrous beast and its gnashing jaws. Before I could question it, his voice reached out and I gave a nod despite the searing ache that devoured the flesh of my calf.
"Yes." My voice felt harsh against my throat. "Did it hurt you?" I'd ask while gently reaching out towards the arm that he'd favoured earlier.
If it injured him...
My gaze shifted towards the open door with a flare of panic. "Is... is Mr Ajax ok? He..."
"Sleep."
Every fibre of my skull pounded at the memory, of the butler's voice invading the harbour of my thoughts before the overwhelming urge to sleep had taken me. There was little I could remember after that. I cringed at it before folding my hands in my lap, my gaze drawn to the way my fingers laced together. So many questions, emotions, and thoughts that I couldn't explain or voice. There was only one that haunted me enough to whisper while inviting my guardian to sit on the mattress. "What happened to it? Is it... dead?"
One could not miss the way she leaned into passing touch, an allowance not always granted nor was it ever pressed. Everything done on her terms. Never wanting to make the girl uncomfortable in his presence when so much of her lay unknown, but now a mind could only whisper over the terrible job done. If only she knew the truth of that night then surely a supposed guardian would be cast in a far different light. No longer promised safety but something distorted. Unreliable. Monstrous.
She deserved to know the truth and yet it was swallowed back for as much as one wished to give way to reality he could not rip off the veil. Did not want to take away the semblance of protection she’d grown to feel here. Perhaps it was selfish. He knew it was not ideal. However, such musings cannot linger at the forefront of his mind for long as whispered retort pulls him back from the brink.
Yes.
Claims he hardly believed though Augustus would not question her. That simple phrase one he’d readily accept no matter how so much more hovered at the tip of his tongue. All which radiated from her told a far different story though even as lips may part words were forced back the moment she reached for him. The promised brush of her hand bringing breath to falter, nearly hitching in his throat before swiftly returning to its natural rhythm.
He wanted to flinch away, deny that simple request yet he remains fixed in place. Any glide of those fingers accepted even should it bring pains to flare with new life as nerves reacted to flickering sensations. Fangs pressing against one another in hopes of halting stuttering hiss. While she could not see it in full, injury lay bandaged in excess as tinted cotton nearly reached the crook of his arm. Falling short of binding about the elbow while the other end wrapped tightly over punctured shoulder, pressing closely to his neck before passing it by to coil about his chest. Everything held in place. Secured.
Slowly the hand opposite of infliction sought to rest over her own. “It is nothing that won’t heal,” reassurance despite the doubts truly held for any traces left of forged weaponry would only continue to eat away at a marked hide. “Do not worry Miss Julie, Ajax is fine. It didn’t lay tooth or claw on him,” sincerity lingered upon such words as a soft smile touched his lips. Certain that the man would check on each of them in time. Even when such gravity did not linger over the house, he was sure to be there.
Though haunted notion seemed to linger upon her features as eyes dropped, hands fidgeting in her lap in silent turmoil. All of which echoed to the room around her and pressed to the senses, a cacophony of emotion that was difficult to pick apart but when finally phrase did rise he too quieted. Of course she would hold questions over it. All of which deserved to be answered though for the first time in a long time August found his voice failing him. Silence held as steadied motion brought the goat to perch at her side, unasked questions reflecting in those eyes.
Quiet sigh escaping his lips as ears slowly drooped, “Unfortunately those creatures are rather… resilient.” Hounds that could handle and recover from heavy damages though, in truth, it is the latter portion of her askance which brought true hesitation. Furred ears turning back uneasily in muted contemplation though - in part - he offered truth, “No. It slipped away.” In a manner similar to her own fate as the vampiric keeper’s magic still echoed lightly in his veins, “Probably off licking its wounds somewhere."
Noiselessly the softness of that rosen gaze flickered wholly to her, attempting to capture her focus in nearly whispered query of his own, “Would you rather I killed it?” A suffocating silence gripping him shortly after such phrases had fallen. Fighting the urge for eyes to drop to his own hands until finally lyrics would rise in quiet admittance, “I will not deny the thought of ending its existence. Hurting you is unforgivable…” Already there was blood on his hands. The life of one more would only cause a bigger yet temporary stain, “But the night is unkind.” The very light of the moon sparking insatiable urges in those cursed. Compulsions so many could not deny, though that made it no better. There where ways to subdue it. No matter how unsavory.
There were many times I'd felt the encompassing hold of Mr. August's hands. Whether it be laid comfortingly on the skew of my shoulder or ensnaring itself around my wrist, I was no stranger to his touch. It was only now that I felt how strangely soft they were. His palms weren't calloused by years of labour nor were his fingers rough like those of the vile butcher. Unlike my tormentor and this newly found terror-beast, I didn't feel afraid of them either - his hands, I mean. Were this a few months prior, I may have shied away from this comforting attempt but instead, there was quiet acceptance.
My gaze lingered diligently on his digits while I listened to his reassurances.
"Do not worry." How could I not? We were attacked in our own home, the one place that was meant to be a sanctuary liberated from the bondage of fear and control. Was this not a temple built for safety in which all residents were free from harm? I was being too hopeful. Hiram taught me better than to believe that home was a safe haven.
Even Mr. August couldn't promise that.
"What are they?" I wondered aloud like a curious child. Bewilderment reflected behind honied iris' that sought the truth from his petal-kissed stare. "Will it come back?" My voice betrayed me by loosing that slight twinge of fear that I felt humming throughout my breast - a subtle quiver in that girlish timbre.
I listened to his question, a quiet whisper that confused me even more. Would I have rather the beast be slain simply because it was just that, a beast? A creature following the will of its God, of its innate nature. It was no different than myself or even Mr. August; creatures that simply want to survive. For a moment I mulled over those musings and thought carefully of my answer before shaking my head to deliver it.
"No." I folded my hands onto my lap.
"It can't help what it is no more than I can help being a girl." My fingers teased the fabric of the blanket, running itself nervously through the crinkles and folds. "It shouldn't die for that." But I knew there were many in this world who would have slaughtered it without a second thought instead of giving it a chance to live. Even when we were face to face in the hall and its claws sunk into my now throbbing leg, I didn't wish to kill it. Perhaps that's why my blade went into its shoulder instead. Because I knew, deep down, despite my fear and desperation to live, that I didn't want to kill another creature.
"But the night is unkind."
My eyes met his. "Not as unkind as people." To which there were exclusions, of course. Like Mr August or Mr Ajax. Even the kind people in the church that offered me food and shelter when no one else would. These exceptions, however, were few and far between in my experience.
"Beasts are cruel because they need to be. People are cruel because they want to hurt others," I started, shifting my gaze away from him and towards the gardens outside the window. There was a moment of uneasy quiet before I let my hesitant voice split open the shell I'd worked so diligently on. "Like the man before you... he liked hurting little girls by taking them away from their mama's and papa's. He liked hurting little girls by touching them... dressing them like dolls... hitting them until they bled when they didn't listen or if they talked. He liked to starve little girls when they were getting too big." It was as if I was watching someone else tell the story of my time in Hiram's care. Even my voice sounded... strange to my ears. No emotion, as if I'd told it a thousand times before.
"I would rather live with a hundred of those beasts." There was a hollowness to my smile as I watched a butterfly jump from flower to flower. "They wouldn't let me suffer."
No matter the tender phrase which fled my lips I knew none could be believed. The dangers had hardly fled this home for one sat perched right before her very eyes, hidden beneath the skin known so well with fingers resting atop her own with promised reassurances. Lies. Fabrications. Word that would be broken and yet I cannot bring myself to find admittance in such truths. But were it truly enough if only I and Ajax remained aware? No… no it wouldn’t be fair to her though again hesitation seizes my throat.
Lyrics swallowed back behind another’s askance as those slender digits traced over a mixture of fabric and flesh yet never sought to intertwine. A sense of freedom kept, an ability to retreat, but ensnared was I by her eyes. Bewilderment plaguing the gaze which refused to leave my own even if deep down I may wish for a moment of respite. For a fleeting chance that she may not delve into my very soul and unearth unspoken secrets with nothing more than a glance. Yet I could not leave her in silence. Not when her tone shook with an undying fear.
“Wolves,” I thought to stop there and yet ever more slipped free, “Creatures twisted by the moon whenever she shines brightest. Something about it consumes their mind and leaves them with nothing but a desire to hunt, to follow more animalistic instincts.” Even if beneath the surface another warred against it. Though even this did not excuse a mindless slaughter. It would never pardon the acts carried out by fang nor talon. And as her vocals tremored, beckoned focus, it was my turn to falter as that once unwavering gaze drifted to my hands. Watchful of the ways my fingers withdrew from hers.
What could be done but lie? Make false promises of safety, of assurance that never would such a beast return despite knowing all too well it could… it would. Even now I felt her honeyed stare upon me. Those fearful pleading eyes looking upon one a mind could not forgive. Never, never would the fault be any but my own. I just needed to try harder. Needed to find the correct dosage of that debilitating poison without going overboard, without meeting my own end - then the steady tones which escaped next would never be fallacies.
Rose tinted sights flickered back to her, hoping to hold her gaze, “Not if it knows what’s good for it.” Not if one could learn to control a monster on such fateful nights. I knew I should have stopped there. Allowed a tongue to fall into silence and yet within the gnawing depths of my mind a question burned. At first, I was not even aware it had graced the air between us. How quickly I wanted to brush it off as being a slip of the tongue, something a piece of me wished had not be asked for my innermost thoughts threatened to lace so closely behind it.
There was no taking it back now though. She had heard it and now all one could do was wait with baited breath to be condemned as any wretched soul should be. But it is a silence which stretches on for what feels to be an eternity. It is a greater agony than the reverberating pangs of embedded silver setting nerves alight. A rightful punishment though I could not take the quiet but before I can bid away foolish notions, insist such an askance should never have been lain upon her so suddenly - she spoke.
No.
It caught me off guard. Ears betraying my surprise as they tilted back and once more my focus wavered. Taking in the ways her fingers tugged with uncertainty at the sheets, her thoughts perhaps clouded as heavily as my own. Though she had spoken plain - she believed such a creature should live. A stark difference to what haunted the goat’s own mind over the matter. I wanted to say something. To interject, however, the weight swirling within my cerebrum stilled my tongue. Drove me to simply listen and allow her words to pull me from the unforgiving recesses of shadow, even if just for a little while.
Only for it all to come crashing down the longer she spoke.
Confusion came first as lyrics drifted to a monster of a different breed. People. Every phrase bringing emotions to contort and twist. My once morose gaze hardening while furred ears canted back in visible distaste. It took everything I had to keep an expression from twisting into displays of protective aggressions for the curvature of fangs were hardly what she needed to see now. And yet each word spoken only stoked the fires of fury.
The day she’d been found upon the chantry’s steps broken and starving. Barely dressed in anything more than dirty tattered rags, nothing more than skin stretched over bone. That was her monsters doing. Had she fled from that man then or had a creature grown bored of one who threatened to blossom and threw her there to rot? There were so many things I wished to ask of her though as always boundaries were things to respect. I would not press for more, everything she offered or chose to withheld would be done at her own discretion but now I held a fraction of understanding.
A glimpse into her personal hell. Passing whispers as to why she was so withdrawn, why her tone lay weak and graveled from misuse. Why she had never outright asksed for the fanciful sweets lining windowed displays with anything more than subtle glances. Why she had flinched and pulled back from passing touch or shied away when items she’d selected on silent choice of her stares had lain granted to her. Now though? She had finally begun to open up more than I ever anticipated or expected her to but in the end, all that really mattered was that she no longer lay within such devilish clutches. And never would again if I had any say in it.
My life was hers if it came to it in means of protection.
For a time I was silent, committing each sordid detail she’d divulged to memory before lyrics fell upon steady rumble to reflect her final phrase. Acknowledgment. I had heard, I was listening all too well. “For they would tear you apart and be done with it,” torment would not be dragged out to satiate a man’s vile hungers and twisted amusement. It brought my stomach to twist merely thinking of such a being. Men like that deserved nothing good. Men… no monsters like that deserved to be killed without question, without any debate nor hesitation. There was no room in this or any other realm for such beasts. If her monster were not already dead, it would be.
I knew better than to reach for her then and yet a need to offer comfort was not something I could resist. So slowly, gently - if she’d allow it - I sought her out. My hand once more finding where hers lay still upon the crinkles of silken sheets. Fingers offering a light squeeze as I searched her distance visage for a hint of rekindling light. For some sign that she would be drawn back out of the capsule which sought to enclose her. Though even as my features were softened by worry, venom still rested behind the rose petal stare looking to her now. Yet it dare not drip upon tones so quiet they were spoken as if a secret shared, “I'm sorry.” For all that had transpired before meeting her, for every burden that she had been made to endure over her life time. For all my foolishness may bring upon her
