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Tonight's the night.
The den slips away beneath my black tipped paws. Replaced with the decadent crunching of white snow, fractals splashing against my light grey coat. Red tipped wisps of fur whip with the wind, blowing a gale against my fur. But, I do nothing to control the wilder parts of nature's havoc on my person. I cannot focus on that. Only what lays ahead, illuminated by my golden yellow eyes. Tonight's the night. Repeating through my mind. Over and over again.
So, I start running.
The leafless trees pass by in a blur. They hold no importance, especially with the season ahead. Wilting, with the heavier snowfall that came at rare times during this time of year. Although, I welcome it with open arms. Leaving paw prints through the milky layer of sediment atop the earth, marvelling in the chills it sends through my feet. The snow continues to fall, nestling deep into the ruff around my neck, water seeping through to chill the bone beneath. It should've commanded me back into safety.
Yet, I keep running.
Eyes go darting around from side to side, attempting to spot signs of life hiding in the midst. Or, rather, the lack thereof. Any spirits, ghouls, signs of the undead like the humans had said. Like they had spoken of, talked in giddy excitement, building large bonfires of glory to celebrate. Nothing yet. Just as my pack told me. But, they don't know anything. They won't stop me.
Nothing will stop me running.
The faint glow of the humans rests just beneath the hill. I take a stop for only a moment. To lay my eyes upon it, with the confirmation that my intuition had been correct. Sure enough, I had escaped at the perfect time. The night is right. Just as I'd thought. Past the valley of severed trees, past the wooden gates protecting the humans from our less passionate kind, lay a symphony of light, dazzling and blazing in it's ultimate glory.
Figures, that form as dots in my vision, run amuck. No doubt, the youngest children of the village. Laughing, galavanting around, wearing face masks decorated to resemble the species that they frequently encounter at their gates. I'd imagine some even being painted to resemble our kind. Then, obscuring the dots of children and adults, comes the smog of heat. Plumes of smoke, erupting into the atmosphere from their burnt timber. To keep the spirits from their homes, as I am told. The humans may see it as reason for fear. But, I see it only as opportunity.
A glimmer of hope, to which I run to, without any second thought of turning back.
The crystalline ice begins to set in. More than when I had first set out. The bushes coated with frost rustle as my wisps trail past. Occasionally, my paw scrapes through the shrubbery in search of any berries. Those who aid against the cold, in particular. But, really, any sustenance would work. Alas, however, the cold has eaten away at whatever remains there, leaving dead berries in it's wake. Whatever wasn't dead has been plucked long ago for stockpiling. Nothing to be done about it.
Nothing to do but run.
The familiar path carves itself ahead. Marked with the shattered birch trunk. Out of place, as all of my pack agreed. But, vital to the ecosystem. An easy point of navigation with which to plan the journey ahead. My paws touch against the harshly cut timber. Splinters tickle against my paws. But, the ice prevents it's sharp pain seeping too deep. Cannot harm what is already numb. Plus, it spurs me on.
Without feeling, I continue to run. Through the blizzard, through to the mark.
The crunching of snow comes to a halt. No longer does it echo through the hollow trees. Only replaced by pants of exhaustion, coated with the frost of the storm. My paws set into the snow, taking in what lies before me. The stoney construct, painted with white gold over it's top. Set by an ancient tree, the only one in the surrounding area. It is not a place of residence. At least, for that of the living. It towers over me. Yet, I am not fearful in the slightest.
Rather, I run to it.
Paws go trampling against the snow once more. Yellow eyes set straight onto the target, until my feet halt in the snow. Carefully treading onto the holy ground, standing steady. Wiping away the frost that threatens to do away with the name clawed upon it. I can't have her title obscured. Her name must be preserved, so that all could remember her.
My breath exhales outwards. Murmurs unintelligible to those conscious. But, to others, beneath the surface, resting themselves? Maybe, just maybe, it can be heard.
The pack says it's a stupid idea. My brothers and sisters. My dad. But, I don't understand. They all describe it as a permanent rest. So, why wouldn't it work? Furthermore, why wouldn't they try? It seems silly to me. I'm the only one who dared to considered it. So, I practiced.
My throat went coarse so many times, attempting to learn. To master it no matter what the cost. They say it doesn't work that way. I can't break through like that. I'm just wasting my energy. But, I'll show them. I'll let my limbs collapse against the earth, black tips dusted in crystalline flakes. I'll let the snow nestle around me, warmth found in the frost seeping beneath my grey coat. Then, I'll close my eyes.
Sleep Talk.
...
I drift off without another thought.
My throat isn't coarse. Words flow like silk from my mouth. I don't think I've ever spoken so clearly under slumber. Even with the months of practice. I saved the best for last. The peak of my ability for this exact moment.
My cry echoes through the dark void. It shows nothing at first. But, it is unlike a dream. I am aware I am not in the world of the living. I'm some place different. Dreaming is still in the mortal world, after all.
A chill passes over my paws. Formed from a gust of wind blowing through the space. I hadn't expected the void to affect my person. Although, I didn't know what to expect at all. The expanse seems endless, sprouting out in front of me. No end in sight. Just pitch darkness. My voice calls out. Echoes, reverbs through the lightless chasm. It's still smooth. It hasn't gone coarse.
My body shivers again. My paws in particular. But, I pay no mind to it. Trodding onwards, looking through the veil, attempting to search for more beyond the abyss. My limbs touch against whatever ground is beneath me. Yet, it makes no sound. There are no objections to my passage. No obstacles in my path. It's not even perfect. I know nothing of this place. And, if there proves to be nothing, it could be just as the pack said. A waste of my time.
My eyes run around the space, desperate to prove them wrong.
A single, glowing red light sets upon me. Shining through the darkness. A sign of a spirit in this quite literally cursed place. I press on towards it. It's form becomes ever so slightly clearer to me. It's shorter than myself. Yet, floats above me, painting my body in the faint crimson glow of it's eye socket. It's own body resembles that of a long black cloak. Like a shorter version of the villain from those old fairytales. The one carrying a sickle. It's face reminds me of that too. Resembling a skull, with a bone painted into the back of it's 'cloak'.
Flaps of its black coat beckon me to follow. Without any objections, I obey. I have no other sense of direction. Better to follow it than be led astray, while the cold wind bites down on my limbs harder. It's strength picks up. Affecting my limbs first, before anything else. Still, they are commanded to move. No matter the sting they might feel. Following after whatever this thing may be.
My attempts to make conversation, or to ask further questions, are all met with a ghastly sigh, followed by a flap of it's cloak. No attempt back. Either because of it's own inability, or it's weariness at having to send for another soul. It even seems to hesitate sometimes when it hears me speak. Looking at me, red light flickering between it's eye sockets, buried behind that skull mask. Then, it sets forward, lighting the way again.
More red lights begin to trail us. Pinching me from the side, some even tailing us from behind. All carving the path ahead. The spirits must've been bored. Or simply extremely accommodating. Maybe they hadn't a spirit to guide for a moment. I have no objections. Whatever gets me to her the quickest.
The leading spectral stops. Then, it floats aside. All the ghosts give me space. I nervously step forward. My limbs are numb, shaking. It makes walking harder. Even my coat starts to feel the chills of whatever wind blows through here. The frost still lingers in the air, clinging to my nose. The faint whistling of the wind grows louder. But, there has to be something beyond. The reason for why I am here.
She appears.
My golden eyes sparkle.
Without a second thought, I run to her. The veil exists. But, I pass through it without hesitation. Rippling as my form bashes against it. She isn't conscious of me yet. But, she will be soon. I'll make sure of it. My limbs ache so much. But, every frosted pain is worth it. All of this was worth it. No longer will they look at me like I'm crazy. No longer will they tell me it's not right. Or a waste of time. I shouldn't have let go. This is proof.
Here you are right in front of me. Mom.
She finally turns to me. Her purple highlights should dance in the wind. Just like mine do. But, the wind seems not to affect her. It only does so for me. The purple mane, mixed in with the white, still flows as smooth as silk when she moves. Just as it did when I buried myself deep into her fur. Feeling the soft flutter of her pelage tickle my body, as my head peaked out to see the world's glory. It all seemed so perfect, whenever I was with her. How I have longed to do that again. But, with her in front of me, I can once more.
I bark, yelp, cry for her attention. Tears brim in the corner of my eyes. Her yellow eyes finally fall towards mine. Her eyelashes shutter closed, blinking twice. Attempting to make sense of seeing me here, no doubt. But, after a moment, those sharper eyes falter. Beginning to brim with the same tears as mine. Greyed out legs bend under the weight of her swelling emotions, driven down to her knees. Her arms scoop me up, cuddling me tight. Her body isn't warm. It's cold. But, her mane feels the same. Soft, cozy. Like a true family again.
My cheeks nuzzle against it. The purple highlights tickle against mine. Her fur attempts to lock mine into place. But, the wind keeps us from truly intertwining. My fur's a mess under the stress of the gale. But, I attempt not to tame it. It's all unimportant. The only important thing is that I'm here. You're here with me. We're together.
She finally brings me back, looking into my eyes. I smile with glee. Her crying continues, while my tears die down. But, then, her relieved chuckles start to fizzle. Fade away, replaced with heavy breaths. Her purple claws gently knead against my cheek. Her head tilts in confusion. I am as confused as her. Why'd her laugh disappear? We're here together, aren't we? What else matters?
"You should be cold."
"But, you're too cold."
She stops for a moment.
"You're frozen."
Her eyes shoot up in alarm. They're trying to see past the veil. I am relinquished from her cold embrace, dropping to whatever floor exists in this place. My limbs take in her words. They collapse as soon as I try to put any weight upon them. Chills run through my body. She's only ever looked that panicked the last time I saw her. I don't really understand it. But, mom seems to. Too well.
Her tears are continuing to spread throughout her face. The red light faces her. It shines a light on the two of us. It seems to be fading. The crimson light grows more ominous as it dissipates. No longer does it seem a guiding light. Rather, a faint reminder of doom. They fade soon enough. She begs for them to return. My cries weren't answered. Her's aren't either.
I attempt to stand. To go right next to her. But, the frost forces me back down again. The whistling is getting louder. It no longer sounds like just the wind. It's something new. Although, the wind is still present. I can feel it, in every inch of my body. Blowing from the east, pressing icy knives deep into my fur. Even my mane is cold. The water seeps through to chill at the sensitive skin around my neck. I try to stand again. But, I can't.
Her eyes turn towards mine once more. They cling to me, desperate. Then, her legs begin to run. But, she grows further in distance. The limited balance beneath my limbs gives way. I slam to the ground with a thud. Then, whatever ground remained begins to fade. Her vision begins to fade. I reach out a paw. She needs to grab it. But, she can't reach me in time. I can't come to her. All I can do is feel the ground beneath me shake. Then, disappear.
Thoughts tear through my mind. The sensation of free fall takes over my body. Gravity weighing down so heavily. Crushing me, forcing me to the lowest levels of whatever nightmare I had wandered into. I pray it's a dream. My mom's worried expression does away with all the relief. She always had a good reason to fear. But, I don't have any idea of what it is. I'm fighting an invisible enemy. One which I can't see. But, I can feel. Through the whistling in my ears, and the weight of my frosted bones.
The red lights return. They're so intense. I can't see anything beyond it. They blast into my eyes, blinding me to my mom's form. She'd reached a claw over whatever place I'd fallen into. But, I can't see it now. I can't hear her desperate cries. They're forcing me away from her. I can't take it. The whistling grows louder and louder. But, it's not the wind anymore.
I can't handle this.
Why did I end up here? I don't know what to do. How am I supposed to know? The tornado of red light stimulates the thoughts to the point of nothing. A mush, a mess, where not a thought makes sense. My heart is freezing over. Am I dying? Can I even wake at this point? I try my best to do it. Let out a cry, begging for help. So loud, I hope it can reach the mortal world.
It only comes out a weak murmur.
When I practiced, I'd awoken in safety. I'd never encountered anything like this.
The tears brim. Run. Run down my cheeks. I can't move. The spirits are aware of it. They feel the chill running through my blood. My heart's bleeding out onto an already covered grave. They're just here to finish the job. Taunt me, while I can do nothing to change my fate. My body's so cold. My voice comes out again. But, whatever clarity I spoke with once is buried under a deep layer of frost. Nothing comes out.
I hit the ground with a thud. I expect that to be the end of it. But, to my surprise, my eyes are still open. Perhaps to the surprise of the ghastly spirits, too. Their light dims again. Most leave, but a couple circle around. Light glimmering from socket to socket. I can crane my neck to look towards them. They look confused. Maybe because I am standing in defiance. Maybe because I am not standing at all.
The ghastly whistle picks up once more. They follow their companions with haste. Shivers already brim on my skin. But, grow tenser still. Even if I didn't think that possible. My voice attempts another cry. But, it's coarse. I need to cough. But, I can't. My attempts are met with frosty knives, stabbing into the back of the neck. They don't bleed. But, they hurt more than spilt blood ever could.
The form of the whistling reveals itself. A pair of red eyes. But, its light is different. It emits almost nothing. Unlike those in the blackened cloaks. They're formed too close together to be two of the Pokemon playing illusions. This is something entirely different.
Even if sight failed, I'd know of its presence. Its shadow casts over more than just my body. It makes my soul cower.
The whistling grows louder. Crushing down on my ears. My attempts to cry are met with coarse, torn vocals. The chill is stronger. My eyes close with the strain of it all. Then, when they are forced open, I see it's form still not complete. It's red eyes peer into mine. The iris of death. I don't have the strength to stare for long. But, I am locked into place. I cannot crane my neck any longer. I can only stare.
A small red smile appears on what would be it's face. The shadow is so hard to tell from the void. I cannot make out it's features. Yet, I know they must rest somewhere. Especially when the glow of sharp spikes shoot out from beside it's body. They emit more light than the rest of it's body. But, it's still faint. Appearance unassuming, able to hide in the darkness. Yet, it's true form seems massive. The energy pulsating from it's body. I can't help but feel crushed by it.
It jumps. Wings reveal themselves, sharpened claws attached. They seek to bury me. My heart almost stops at the sight of it. But, it'll surely stop once those wings reach me. For I am helpless to stop it. Whatever energy could exist to struggle is frozen over by now. Buried under a thick layer of ice.
Death approaches.
I cannot run.
Eyes close in acceptance of the end.
A cry rebels against the wings. It matches the whistling in volume.
Purple tufts of fur reach down to rub against my body. They provide no real ailment against the cold. Yet, I can't help but feel my heart explode with warmth.
The high cry battles through the void. Shrieks emit a dark pulsating energy, forming a bubble around us both. The wings are overpowering. My mother's body struggles to hold itself together. Her face is unlike anything I have ever seen before. Bitter, resentful, angry. Unlike the kindness I'd only ever seen of her. Her true power had been held back. Only now do I see it fully. As it beats against the demon held in the darkness. The distorter of worlds, she stands against. All for the sake of me.
Her neck tilts. Yellow eyes peer into mine. My golden irises fill with tears. Seeing her like this, wounds in her flesh forming. The purple marks running across her body open in abundance. Similarly coloured blood begins to seep out. Like pipes snapping from pressure. Every second she spends taking on this form, trapped in the cycle of resentment, she only gets worse.
Her look is harsh. But, it needs to be. She can't focus on anything else. Only on buying me the few moments I need. Whatever I need to wake up. My limbs are still heavy. But, somehow, they feel more manageable. Like I can lift myself to my feet again.
I try it. Push myself onto my paws, feeling my form wobble. Fur nearly collides with the floor. If I fell, I wouldn't have been able to get back up. But, I succeeded. And, with a heave, I walk. I begin to tumble into a haphazard run. The bubble of dark energy around us begins to close in. She's getting weaker.
Blood is pouring. Hers, not mine. It leaks onto the floor. Then, it trickles down deeper into the void. Spilling onto my mane, coating the red highlights a deep purple. My light grey coat is splattered with violet. I cling to her leg regardless. Basking in whatever's left of her. For one last time.
Her cry intensifies. The whistling is so loud. She's shrieking highly to match it. The wind is lashing at me. I have to get out.
My cry comes out coarse. My body tenses, freezing up. A cough erupts from my throat. Shards of ice escape from my mouth, clinging to the back of my teeth. Another cough sends the bone white daggers out again. Then, another, spewing up a small kernel of blood. It sticks to the back of my teeth. My throat is cleared. But, the blood is frozen.
She looks back at me one last time. I stare back. Taking in the moment for whatever I can. Maybe she understands what I'm feeling. Maybe she doesn't. I don't have the time to explain. Only to savour one last look at her, before I leave. If I can ever leave.
The last that I see. She smiles. It tells me so much. I wish we had more time. I wish I could tell you how much everyone missed you. Dad, my brother, sister. We miss you. I'd wished you to come back so bad, that I threw everything away for it. I can't imagine a world without you. But, they equally can't imagine a world without me. I have to survive.
And, with that smile, I just about believe I can.
The scream shatters the ice around. Black, deepened energy circles around my body. Crystalline fractals burst into shards of ice. The snow melts away into water from the exertion of energy. The cocoon around my body cracks, then shatters to pieces. The agony of the daggers fades. But, the cold remains. The whistle of the wind, fading, but still howling. My limbs are still encased in the snow.
My heart rushes like I'm still in that place. There's no light to follow my path. I still can't move. Even if I lasted for a moment more, my survival is impossible. Death stared me in the face. I escaped, only to round back into it's grip. With it's claws held to my throat, slicing once, watching the blood trickle out. Dying slowly, by attrition.
The grave is cracked. My cry left a strain on the stone that it couldn't handle. The sediment is split down the middle, the clawed name shattered into two. In my dying moments, I disregard that which I hold dear. I attempt to cry. But, the tears form as crystalline dust before they can stream down my face. Sharply stinging at my eyes, not even allowing me the release of my sadness.
I'm dying.
The dead trees tower above me. I am invited to join them. Their branches twist beneath the sky, swaying with the gale. Snowflakes shake from their brothers, separating then melting into water on contact with my skin. It chills me to the bone. What was bone is ice. What was skin is a shell. What was flesh is dying.
The crunching of snow sounds behind me. It feels so faint. Sound from the mortal world. Yet, I'm not fully there. Trapped between the two. My body is preparing to exit the mortal plane. I can almost feel the claws surrounding me again.
But, a beacon of fire erupts to interrupt it's advance. Those familiar red flames. To burn bright, keep us warm in the darkest of nights such as this. My tears turn even sharper. The ice plucks away at my eyes. But, with the flames drawing nearer, they begin to melt away into tears.
Father appears. Followed by all my siblings. No doubt restless, in the pursuit of myself. They look so cold. The brother, of which belongs to my species, shivers. But, he wouldn't rest without knowing I was in safe hands. Even my sister is shivering with the cold. Despite the flames that should've been burning deep inside the darkened canine body, she can't help but be chilled. Dad refuses to give up, however. When the flames of his children falters, his fire rages on.
His orange stout widens, letting loose another stream of flames. Burning away the piles of snow that mounted from the ongoing storm. I should be obvious. But, in his hazed vision, he can't quite make out my body amongst the snow. Continuing only with the belief of safety hiding behind the blaze. My siblings search for me too. Crying out. My instinct is to call in response. But, my vocal cords give way. Only a small whimper lets out, buried by the cold.
My brother's eyes snap to mine. By some miracle, he makes me out through the storm. Makes out the shattered grave, crumbling into debris. He calls out to my sister. They both chorus around my dad, pointing them my way. His eyes widen. Paws go crunching against the snow. They've found me. Me, the mess I left behind, and the frozen tomb I'm encased in. The fire eats away at my restraints.
The tears fall in full fruition. My sister helps with her embers. Rough, not strong enough to hold much firepower. But, she fights ferociously. As does my brother, nudging me from the mountain of snow layered atop the grave. Until, I am back to the surface. Wide eyes fix upon me. They've already seen my tears well. There is no use hiding it.
I sob openly. What's left of my vocal cords shatters into unintelligible cries. I am lifted upon father's back. Yet, finding no comfort in the three bones adorned on his back. The other two trail by my side. They'd become accustomed to the fact I'd only just learnt. Yet, the reminder of it seems to bring tears to their eyes. For the first time, I hear my father's crimson eyes give way to sorrow. The world melts away, just as the snow beneath our feet does. I'm safe. But, I'm leaving behind a world I can never return to.
That part of me rots, left behind with the grave held sacred once. Yet, now, it only reminds me of the cruelness of mortality.
I'll never see her again.