Ninety-nine years ago
"Run, son! And don't look back!" His father yelled coarsely from his cracked, purple lips, blood gushing out of his sides as he limply lifted his head. His son grimaced in disgust upon seeing the ghostly, flushed skin that clung his father's weak frame. He had never seen the brave man in such a state before. He looked up to his father, he hadn't seen another human in years, he didn't really have anyone else to turn to. They had been on the run for around four years, ever since his father betrayed the leader of their tribe. They lived in fear, constantly anxious that they'll be found, unsuspectingly being killed on the spot. Seeing his father on the cold, stone ground unable to move and struggling for air felt like a knife penetrating his chest; he couldn't bear to even look at him.
"No, father! I can't leave you here! What if it gets you?" The seventeen-year-old boy yelled alternatively.
"It will get me. Just go, son. Fucking go!"
He nodded hesitantly, grazing his fingers against the prominent lines of his father's cheekbones before dashing faster than he thought he ever could.
The boy had been on the run for hours now. His legs were weak underneath him, barely carrying him. His stomach growled viciously, like a wild animal.
I need to stop.
His legs completely gave up on him, causing him to tumble to the ground with an 'uff' sound. He crawled to the sharp, mossy bark of a tree to support him as he sat up. He stared blankly into the gloomy woods. There was nothing to be seen for miles but the natural biome of trees, grass, wildflowers, and some little woodland creatures. A defeated sigh escaped his dry lips. Bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his chin and began to reflect on the past few years. He was tired of running, tired of being alone, tired of only existing to help his father stay alive. He wanted to die. His lips quivered as he sobbed quietly. There the boy was, alone, crying with no one to turn to. Devils on both shoulders whispered to him, you're worthless, you have no meaningful reason to live, stay here until your body gives up on you, you'll just be running for years again with no one to count on. He shook his head, along with the demons that haunted his thoughts. He got up on his feet, shaking a little and almost collapsing in the process. He struggled, eventually starting on his journey once more.
The boy spied a mansion in the distance. Maybe I can stay there. He thought to himself and started running until a massive, furry beast pounced on him, stopping him in his tracks. It bit deeply into his flesh causing the boy to scream in pain before removing its canines from his side and running off to god knows where. The boy yowled as the pain shot throughout his body. He winced, tears leaving burning tracks as they fell. He had felt pain before, but nothing like this. His body felt as though it was on fire; like someone had poured gasoline all over him and lit him alight. He felt the wound burn the most. His eyes seemed to be completely unable to open - his eyelids were closed so tight it hurt. He punched at the ground in hopes to transfer some of the pain elsewhere but to no avail, nothing seemed to work. All he could do was allow his body to inflict the excruciating agony as he wept.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, hours turned into days, days turned into months, and months turned into years. At least, that's how it felt. Matter of fact, he had been sat on the bitter forest floor for a little less than an hour. He clambered to his feet once the overwhelming sensation calmed down, looking at the castle through his hooded eyes and begin to drag himself in its direction as briskly as he could.
He looked at the mansion in disbelief. It looked very different up close. There was a bridge leading you to the entrance which hovered over a colossal of water. The roofing on the three tiers of which the boy presumed to be the different floors was a light blue, mixing perfectly with the faded, mossy grey of the bricks that built the frame of the old-fashioned mansion. Multiple towers poked out of the roof with sharp edges on the top. There were cracks between the bricks and black stained windows that'd most likely had been installed to keep UV rays out. It looked as if it hadn't been inhabited in years. He stared in awe, scurrying towards it.
The boy got to the doors that were double his 5'10 height. He could hear his heart in his ears. He knocked on the door, not really expecting a reply but just in case. After waiting over five minutes, he pushed the heavy doors open using all the strength he had left in him. He stood in the doorway admiring the interior for a few minutes. In front of the door was a big staircase lined with a rug and a copper, patterned banister. Once the stairs hit the wall, they parted ways leading upstairs. The floor was checkered marble that was coated in a layer of dust and plenty of cobwebs. To the left was a golden, antique-like table underneath a painting of what seemed to be two women. On both sides of the room were stands that held clay models that were molded into the shape of a face. Underneath where the stairs parted were two doorways. The second floor had a balcony that loomed over the first floor, yet again protected by copper railings. Once he snapped out of his daze, he searched for a bathroom of some description. It didn't take him too long to find one as every bedroom seemed to lead to one.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His once dull green eyes seemed to glow a tad bit more. Black, wavy hair hung and framed his face. His jawline and cheekbones very prominent due to the lack of food over the past and lips purple as the cold air that surrounded him hit them. He ran the hot tap, unexpectedly finding there to be warm water coming from it. He took his shirt off, ribs poking out. The wound was swelled, turning black. It was obvious it had become infected. He grabbed a flannel off the hanging shelf to the side of the sink and began cleaning it. Not a touch went by without a wince of pain passing his lips. Once he finished, he jumped into the shower and washed the dirt from his body. After bandaging the wound, he went into one of the bedrooms to rest.
It was around midnight when he woke up. He felt inhuman pain swell within him as he felt his bones morphing into different positions. Hearing the snap of his spine made him cringe and feel nauseous. The pain was agonizing. In the midst of his screams and cries, he felt his normal ears merge into pointed, black ones as his skin was replaced with a thick, black fur coat. His hands and feet shifted into big paw that could kill a small creature with one swipe. Hours of this went on until the pain stopped suddenly; nothing but a distant ache remained. He trotted across the room to see a large, human-sized, gold-rimmed mirror proudly hanging on the wardrobe. He looked at himself. What the heck? He thought, heading back to the sofa and laying down. Maybe I should sleep this off. I'm probably just dreaming. He tried chuckling to himself but it came out as some dog noise. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before darkness consumed him once more, after all, it was just a dream... Right?
Eighty-three years later
The screams of a middle-aged woman bounced off the blindingly white walls of the hospital room. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! How much longer? Ah, shit!" Her husband's hands clasped around hers as she squeezed his palm, pain exploding within her.
"Not too much longer, you're doing great. I can see the head!"
The sound of a newborn's crying filled the room.
"Congratulations, it's a girl!" Announced the doctor, handing the parent's daughter to them after cleaning her up. Her father shed a tear as the pair's two-year-old son, Emmitt, came into the room with another nurse.
"Our little princess is here..." He cried, throwing an arm around his wife and son as he looked at his new-born child in her arms.
"You're right, Peter. What will we name her?" Asked the proud mother, Pat, smiling at the baby who looked back at her with wide eyes.
"Yeah, what's my new sister's name, daddy?" Asked the blond-haired boy, staring lovingly at the newly born girl.
"Emilie. Emilie Swan, my love."
The baby's hair shone a fiery auburn colour that mixed perfectly with her burning, determined hazel eye that could outshine the stars. A tiny button nose plopped in the middle of her face, paired with a pair of bow-shaped rosy lips that made her look adorable.
"Emilie... Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful girl," Pat cooed, still shocked at the fact she birthed a beautiful baby girl. "You've got that right," Peter added, pulling his wife, son and daughter into a light hug as not to hurt Emilie.
Emilie smiled at her parents as they carried her home.
I love my family...
She thought, wondering why she couldn't say it aloud.
"We're home, my darling, my prince, and my princess!" Announced her father. Peter picked Emilie up and sat her on his lap, feeding her. Once Emilie was done with the bottle, Pat took her and put her in her crib. She kissed her on the forehead and said,
"Goodnight, little angel."9Please respect copyright.PENANAfT0pSTvJGn
9Please respect copyright.PENANAIO1RWyVDJe