Unfamiliar Territory

The Sorrow. Stepping into it from the cluttered, yet warm, space of Mr. Copper’s office was like stepping out into a blizzard.

I shook it off and closed the door behind me, only catching Kat’s eyes for a moment, before I was just looking at a tree. She looked worried. I couldn’t blame her. It felt like my heart was trying to burst out from my chest.

I attempted to steady my breathing as I turned back to face the blinding fog. Somewhere, not too far ahead, the asylum was waiting for me. I got down on my belly and started the crawl towards it.

It was silent. I tried to keep my ears trained for any foreign noises, but all that came back to me was the gentle crushing of soggy leaves as I crawled.

I bit my lip. There was no time to complain now. Mr. Copper warned that the fog would be here. It made sense that it was magical. Something that allowed Fawn to snatch away the children she needed without much risk of being seen— way too convenient to be coincidence.

But having the power to make killer plants, blinding fog, and turning children into poisonous monsters? Were there any limits to a witch’s powers? What else was she capable of?

Of course, neither Mr. Copper nor Kat had much to say on the matter. All that could be said was that she was a ‘special case’.

“Wonderful,” I whispered hotly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If it’s not something I don’t understand, it’s something I think I’m beginning to understand before it becomes even more complicated!”

The sound of rustling tree branches in the distance rooted me to the spot.

“Okay, Alex, no more talking to yourself.”

When nothing else happened, I continued my crawl. No time to complain. No time to complain. I craned my head every which way that I could. I was moving so slowly Kat and Mr. Copper would probably be done before I even made it to the asylum. Or dead.

I stopped again. I was at the base of a hill. It had to be the hill. Due to the Sorrow, I could not see where it would lead, but it had to be the asylum—lying somewhere up in that swirling mist.

I sniffed the air, with as much good as that would do. Fawn and her children smelled just like the woods. Plus, whatever gave me that magically enhanced sense of smell had long since vanished. Also, I was pretty sure I was downwind.

Just wait for the signal. Mr. Copper did not have time to think of a good one back in the office, but he said listen for something out of place— distinct. All in all, this was already tuning out to be a pretty crappy plan. There was hardly any planning at all. How was I supposed to know if any sound I would hear would be his? Any sound at all would sound ‘distinct’ in this silence—

A scream broke through the quiet woods. I flinched, held my breath to keep from crying out, and then smacked myself for being so dim. Who screamed?

“Was that the signal? Ah, to hell with it!”

I got to my feet. I sucked in a breath. Then, with everything in me that I could muster, I raced up the hill, screaming and shouting for all that was worth. Threats, obscenities, random noises that sounded intimidating. The whole forest had to be coming alive with all of the racket I was making.

Cower or challenge, nothing could ignore me.

Or, so I thought.

I reached the top of the hill. Through the fog, I could make out the backdoor of the asylum, still busted down from when Stallion tried to retreat through it. I stopped my commotion and caught my breath for a moment.

What now?

We did not have a contingency for this. Right now I should be fighting a couple of Fawn’s children while Kat and Mr. Copper dealt with their master.

“So, either they are watching me, right now, waiting to ambush, or...”

I didn’t fool them at all and they are lying in wait for Kat to arrive so they can tear her to pieces.

“Bastards!” I shouted, charging through the opening in the backdoor. “I won’t let you have her!”

I ran into the asylum, stumbled down a hallway, and turned a corner before I realized just how dark it had become. I could not see where I was going. I looked behind me and all I was met with was more inky blackness.

It was like The Sorrow, but much, much worse.

“Little insect, caught in my web. Filled with regret, filled with dread!”

The hell?

A voice, light and sing-songy, echoed off the walls around me. I put my back to a wall and fruitlessly glared through the darkness to spot him.

Could he see me? I kept my fingers gnarled into claws, just in case that he could.

“Little insect, do not be frightened. Father is here. Father will make you enlightened.”

The echoing voice was definitely closer. I hunched down and moved along the wall down the hallway. I couldn’t tell if I was moving further or closer to him, but I could not just sit still.

“Little insect, I will drain you. Free your worries, free what pains you.”

“What the hell is wrong with this thing?” I asked myself, under my breath. I liked it better when they didn’t speak.

The voice was even closer. I shot my head in both directions down the hall but I still could not see a thing. “Damnit, where is he?”

“Little insect, you are found. Do not whimper, not a sound.”

I froze. He sounded right beside me.

Lashing out with my claws, I strained my eyes through the darkness. They were adjusting, but I could still see nothing—my hands hit nothing.

“Where the hell are y-!?”

I was cut off by a strong pair of limbs wrapping around my neck and lifting me up off the ground. It immediately squeezed and cut off my breathing as I struggled against the force. I let out a strangled cry.

“I had you, had you from the start! Or did you not listen to the truths in your heart?”

The voice was right above me. I barely managed to crane my head enough to see it.

The red eyes stood out first, almost glowing in the darkness beneath long tangles of black hair. The rest of it came into focus soon after—malnourished, dirty. His gnarled hands were pressed against the ceiling and were somehow allowing him to cling there as he attempted to strangle me with his legs.

He smiled when our eyes met, allowing me to see the tell-tale black teeth. “Oh, it is you, little fox. Hello. A pleasure. Yes, a pleasure. Now, would you kindly remain still so I may wipe your name from the ledger?”

He then brought his head down towards me with those black teeth. Just as Adam had. Only this time, there would be no one to stop him.

However, this time, I did not need anyone else.

I dug my claws into the dirtied flesh of his legs. The lost student let out a screech of inhuman sound before dropping me. I kept my feet and ran to the other side of the hall, but by then he had already vanished from his spot on the ceiling.

I quickly looked above me, only to find empty blackness.

“Come out!” I shouted. “I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you!”

I heard a silencing shhh answer me. I tried to turn, readying my claws to strike, but instead was met with the lost student slamming into my stomach, sending us both into the ground.

With incredible speed, he pinned my hands to the ground. “To put on a good show, one must know how to work both above, and below.”

“Just shut up!” I shot, trying to hold my breath against the rotted smell coming from his mouth.

The boy’s twisted grin widened as he brought his face closer to mine. “What’s wrong, little fox? Despise being trapped in such a little bo—”

I slammed my forehead into his face. He howled in pain again and loosened his grip on my hands enough for me to shake loose and shove him back so that he was now below me.

“Little fox—”

“Shut up!” I repeated, sending a fist across his face. I had never punched someone before, and it hurt like hell. I hit him a few more times despite this until he grabbed my fist with a hand.

For someone so thin, he was incredibly strong.

“Fine then, no more games.”

He spat on my face, but what hit me wasn’t spit. It clung to my eyes, blinding me.

The grip on my hand disappeared just as I felt the lost student disappear from below me. I quickly stood up and brought my hand up to tear away the gunk, when that strong grip returned on my wrist.

I screamed in agony as he pulled my arm upwards, lifting me on the ground. My shoulder had to be dislocating all over again. My entire arm was going to come off. Before the pain became too great, I lashed out with my other arm, the nails meeting flesh.

Another hiss of pain from the boy as he dropped me. I crumpled to the floor, my entire right arm still on fire, before he was upon me again.

I thrashed blindly. Avoid his face, avoid his teeth. He gripped one of my wrists when I felt my mouth graze something, I didn’t care what it was— it was flesh so I sunk my teeth in.

“Cursed little fox! Let go!” he cried, shoving me off, but screaming when a piece of whatever I was biting came with me.

I spat it out. Rotted meat.

He had gone silent again— stalking me, again. I didn’t bother to try and remove whatever was on my eyes. I didn’t need to. He was quiet— deathly so— but I could smell the fresh blood on him.

I reached out and plucked the lost student from the wall beside me and threw him into the opposite side. I heard him grunt in surprise as the sound of his body smashing into the stone walls echoed down the hall.

Before he could skitter away again, I jumped on him. He struggled until I slammed another fist into his chest. When he let out a strangled cry, I knew exactly where his face was.

My right hand was nothing but a ball of pain, so I gripped his throat with my left, keeping the nails pressed against his flesh.

“No, no, wait, wait, little fox—!”

I dug the nails a little ways into his throat, enough to feel the blood pool around the tips. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t just gut you right now!”

“I-I was only doing as Mo- the witch commanded of me!”

Using the still sore right arm, I managed to rub free the sticky substance on my eyes. I still could not see much of his bruised face in the darkness.

“Go on.”

“I’m not...I’m not doing this because I want to...the wretched witch, it was she who made me this way! If you are to gut someone, gut her. She is the source of all this!”

“So all those weird rhymes, stalking me in the dark, you’re just doing all of that because she commanded you to?”

“I...I don’t know why I make those poems,” he said. “I swear I don’t! The witch’s orders were for me to protect her when she went through Mallard’s stuff, and I fight better in the dark, alright? But that’s all I know!”

I could just barely make out him holding his hands up. I could feel the pulse in his neck, like rapid little drums against my fingers. His heavy breathing filled the silence between us.

Slowly, I began to take my hand away from his neck. “Okay, then you’re coming with me to—”

An explosion of pain racked my left hand. The muscles in my arm locked up as I stared down at the sight of the lost student biting into my hand with his black teeth.

The beating of my own heart became much louder in my ears.

“You...”

I grabbed his face with my free hand and slammed it back into the wall. It sent a similar jolt of pain down my arm and he managed to wiggle free.

With a grunt of effort, he pulled himself back up and began to skitter down the hall.

I stared after him. I looked down at my hand, the black wound, the purple veins.

“You bastard!” I shouted after him, racing after him. “I’ll kill you!”

I could see him clearly. He could see me clearly. He looked back at me as he ran, his red eyes wild.

“Mother! Help me!” he screeched.

Catching up to him, I dug my nails down his back. He screamed, stumbled. He tried to leap into an adjacent room, but I sent a kick into his stomach before he could and he flew back further down the hall.

Already recovering from the hit, he looked back at me and spat again, only this time the gunk harmlessly hit my chest. He then jumped to the ceiling as I reached him again, so I leapt up to grab a leg. It riddled my arm with fiery hot pain, but I held firm until he swung me into a wall, forcing me to let go.

He crawled on the ceiling, down the hall, calling for help, from anyone. I got back to my feet and raced after him. Along the way, I spotted a rusted metal wheelchair left lying on its back and grabbed it by the wheels as I ran.

Both my hands were begging to be left alone, but I held strong until I was close enough to throw the chair into the still retreating lost student. He collapsed to the ground with the chair in an avalanche of noise. Despite this, he was already struggling to get up— but I had him.

I was on him as he screamed for his mother. I raised my claws and prepared to strike when light hit my face.

I glanced up and saw that the back door that I had entered the asylum from was now just a short walk away.

“So, you like the dark, huh?” I asked, momentarily silencing his cries for help.

Before he could respond, I gripped him with the burning black hand by his long hair and dragged him down the hall. He clawed at my arms, struggled to get free, but I no longer felt any of it.

The Sorrow was still consuming the hill. I almost lost sight of the boy when I tossed him to the ground.

“Please, little fox, please don’t kill me!”

I walked over to him and shoved my weathered shoe down on his ankle to stop him from squirming backwards. His almost naked body was on full display now. I could count the ribs that stood out as he took in deep breathes. His long, dirt and blood infested, hair was strewn out all around him.

He looked up at me with large, bloodshot eyes as I shoved the nails of my bruised right hand into his chest. Before he could cry out, I pressed the black hand against his mouth, digging the nails into the side of his face.

“Shut-up.”

He stopped struggling when our eyes met. I could see they weren’t actually red, just so filled with red veins that they appeared red. Beneath the veins, I could barely make out big blue eyes.

I dug my fingers deeper into his chest. A muffled scream came from behind my hand. His blue eyes became watery as he gripped my wrist with one of his hands.

“I... remember...”

“What?” I moved the black hand slightly from his mouth.

He looked at me with those watery blue eyes. “I remember you, little fox,” he said through painful groans.

I held my breath.

“You don’t remember anything,” I spat. “Don’t think you’re going to lie your way out of this again.”

“A little fox, all alone, would walk by himself to and from his home.”

Did I do that? I could only remember the walks to school with Mary. There were so many years gone, like they never happened. And he knew that.

“You know that— you know I can’t remember anything. You can make up any story about me and I won’t know what’s true!”

“Poor little fox, so lost. He pinned so long for the girl as cold as frost.”

I let go of his mouth entirely. His breathing was steadying. There was something off about him, something that was missing.

“You used to wear glasses.”

He closed his eyes. His slower breathing turned into one deep sigh. “I used to wear glasses.”

He opened his eyes which were now dried and looked back at me. “Please, don’t kill me. I bit you because I feared for my life, but if you kill the witch it will all go away. The poison in my teeth, the poison in your hand. I can’t disobey the witch and help you, but if you let me go I will run away and never come back.”

I slowly pulled my nails out of his chest as he winced before using both hands to grab onto his arms and kept him on the ground.

I bore into his bloodshot blue eyes and forced him to look back at me. “Who are you?”

“A little spider, a little shadow. Forgotten, broken, hollow.”

I chuckled. “Is that a pretty way to say that you don’t know?”

The lost student smiled back even though it seemed painful for him to do so. “Basically.”

My right hand was still on fire. I was quickly losing feeling in the left hand. I looked between the two before finally settling on the boy’s dirty and waiting face. I let out a low sigh as I loosened my grip on his arms.

“Alright, I’ll...”

I looked up for a moment, and the words caught in my throat.

“You’ll what, little fox? Don’t leave me hanging here.”

Shadows. Dark figures coming from within The Sorrow. Six...Seven...Eight. Eight of them. As the figures grew closer, I could hear noises coming from them. Deep, echoing growls.

I swallowed. Widow craned his neck below me and fell silent as well when he spotted them.

Before the growling shadows came close enough to be seen, they stopped, forming a half circle before the lost student and me.

I let go of the boy as a final, ninth, shadow suddenly appeared, right across from us. It walked towards us until the familiar German Shepherd with his familiar smile materialized from the mist.

He stopped when our eyes met. His smile disappeared.

“Friend of yours?” the lost boy asked.

I couldn’t answer him— couldn’t break away from those black eyes. “Hero...”

“Sorry, kid,” Hero said, lowering himself, the hairs bristling on his back. “Nothin’ personal.”

He then let out a vicious bark before I was up on my feet and running. I heard the lost student call out something after me, but it was lost in the sea of snarling and baying dogs that now consumed the once silent wood.

I ran as hard as I could towards the busted down back door, not looking back.

If I look back they’ll have me. If I look back I’m dead.

I squeezed past the bent and twisted metal door, the snarling and whimpering right behind me. Perhaps a few got stuck.

The first few would get through. I wasn’t safe.

I thought I would be running blind again, but instead I was reunited with that ability to see in the dark. I nearly cried. It couldn’t have come back at a better time.

I ran through the hallway, racking my memory for the stairs. I couldn’t outrun them, I had to find help. It was Mutt all over again. It was Mary all over again.

Mary.

“Damnit! I don’t have time for this crap!”

I ran down another hallway. The sounds of dogs echoed through the darkness behind me--through my head.

I hadn’t heard of Kat or Mr. Copper since the gunshot.

“Don’t think about it.”

I rounded a corner and there they were. The stairs. At the end of another damn hallway. The dogs had to be right on my heels.

They could have failed. They could be dead. Fawn and her children could be waiting-

“Don’t think about it!”

I reached the stairs but, before I could even make it halfway up, something sharp came down on my ankle like a bear trap. My scream was cut off by the force of collapsing against the steps, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

I glanced back to see a large dog with a large mouth stained with blood holding firm to my right ankle. It looked back at me with glowing eyes before I kicked it square in the face, sending it falling back down the stairs.

I hardly had time to breathe again before another large dog was on top of me. All hair and growls and teeth. Purely out of reflex, I put up my arms-my hand luckily catching its neck. It snarled and snapped less than a few inches from my face, saliva splattering all over me. I could hardly feel my hand on its throat, but I still managed to push it off me just before its jaws could clamp down on my face.

The dog slipped through the railing and plummeted. I didn’t watch it fall, but heard an audible whimper after it thudded against the concrete surface. The first dog I had kicked before was already making its way back up the stairs.

I turned and stood, but before I could make any more progress, its jaws clamped down on the back of my ratted shirt. I nearly fell backwards as it attempted to pull me down, but managed to grab hold of the railing before I did.

A sharp tear rang out in the hall as the dog pulled away a sizeable junk of my shirt before falling backwards. There was a terrible snapping noise as it hit the ground before silence. It wouldn’t be coming back for me again.

I didn’t look back. Not that far off was the frantic barking of the other dogs who were no doubt fitting through the opening and not far behind.

I left the whimpering dog and the silent dog behind as I went up the stairs, wincing and nearly falling over several times at the new pain flaring up from my ankle.

It wasn’t any different from any other pains. I had to keep moving.

I reached the top and looked around. More hallways. Which way did Stallion go to take me to Mallard’s office? Where could it-

“Where is she!?”

That was Kat. Screaming at somebody. The sound echoed, but if I concentrated...ignore the dogs...ignore my breathing...ignore all the moans and groans of the asylum.

“Tell me, or I will end your life here and now!”

There.

I tried to run, but the pain in my ankle was too much. I could hardly remain standing and my progress was reduced to a frantic sort of hobble as I used the wall for support.

“Should have kept that damn cane with me.”

I limped towards her. The dogs were getting closer. There was no point in bothering with them. If they caught me, I was dead anyways. I had to get to Kat.

“Rotten, unholy child! Torture Fawn all you dare. You shall never get the answers out of her!”

Another voice, one that sent familiar chills down my spine.

“I guess you guys found her,” I muttered to myself.

Down the hall, I could see an open doorway. As well as a body that was lying halfway out of it.

“Mr. Copper?”

“Elizabeth, stop what you are doing! This will accomplish nothing!”

No, that was Mr. Copper. When I got close enough, I saw the body was another lost child. A girl with surprisingly short, filthy hair, shreds of clothing, and fresh cuts along her thin body. I could not tell if she was still alive.

Stepping over her, I pushed in the door to Mr. Mallard’s office, or, as it turned out, what was left of it.

It was in shambles. The chairs, the bookshelves, the tables- everything was broken into at least several pieces. I thought I could make out the reds, yellows, and oranges of the shattered remains of the tea set that littered the ground.

All around were the signs of a fierce battle. Large, wilted flowers and crumbling vines were covering the walls and ceilings. Deep scratches and blood marks marred several areas in the floors and in what furniture that remained. A tree had broken through the large window in his office, its dead branches frozen in time as though they were still reaching out for someone.

Kat stood in the center of it all with some weathered woman with ratty, white and brown hair tied to the only remaining leather chair, both of them covered in new cuts and bruises. Mr. Copper was sprawled out against a wall, dead vines still wrapped around his legs, looking in the worst shape of them all.

“Alex?” he said, turning to me with his one wide eye. When he did, he revealed his right shoulder, the newest favorite shirt torn violently away, allowing me to see the black bite mark in the pale flesh.

“Oh, god, you too?”

He smiled weakly. “I’m afraid so.”

“Bah! Another one of you! Pawn! Fawn thought she had her dear Widow...” the wild woman in the chair began before her eyes grew wide. “...No. What have you done with Fawn’s dear Widow? Did you take her away from me again? No, no, no you wretched rotten thieving little-!”

Kat struck Fawn across the face with the handle of her knife, silencing the barrage of threats.

“Kat!” I shouted. She had her hand raised, already preparing to strike again. She didn’t look at me. “What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s Fawn, the one we’ve been after.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, but you’ve got her tied up. Why are you still attacking her?”

Kat looked at me then. I held my breath, it was that look. “Because this isn’t over yet.”

“What-?”

“Alex, you must stop her,” Mr. Copper interrupted through groans of pain. “She isn’t acting herself. She is bound to do something reckless in her state.”

I looked back when Fawn spat blood. The blow appeared painful, but Fawn was already back to glaring at me. There was less mud to hide the hard lines in her face, the sun baked skin, and the dark circles under her eyes.

Like Mr. Mallard, it was her eyes which appeared the most alive. Those light, warm eyes that, even now, were comforting.

“I’m only doing what I have to do,” Kat said to Mr. Copper’s comment before turning her focus back on Fawn.

She had still been glaring at me when Kat shoved the knife down on her hand and through to the arm rest. Her screams were terrible. I had to hold my ears with my numb and burning hands.

When her screams died, and I removed my hands, I was greeted to the growing rumble of racing feet and ominous howling and barking.

“Dogs?” Mr. Copper breathed.

“Foxy, close the door,” Kat ordered, her hand still on the handle of the knife.

I held her gaze for a moment before hurrying to the door. With a bit of effort, I dragged the unmoving lost child all the way into the room before slamming the metal door closed. Not seconds later, the sounds of the baying dogs reached the hallway. There was no means of locking it. I could only hope these dogs weren’t magically altered to be able to turn knobs.

“Why is the Madame interfering?” Mr. Copper wondered aloud.

Kat looked from the door to Fawn. The old woman’s screaming had stopped, but she was still breathing heavy, sweat pouring down from her face. “Is Madame the witch who gave that to you?” Kat asked her, pointing to the thick oak branch I had seen her walking with in the woods all those months ago. It lay, in several pieces, discarded amidst fallen books and dead flowers.

Fawn smiled widely at her. As Kat held her wild look, the smile soon turned into a deep, raspy laugh that made the room feel much colder. “You know nothing, weak, clinging-to-hope, pawn. That duckling gave you fangs, but no bite. I have seen more, more than you can possible imagine with your rotted, cold-blooded brain. You may threaten me, you may harm me, but after all of it, you will still gain nothing. Fawn will always be more.”

“What the hell is she talking about, Kat?” I asked, causing Fawn’s head to whip in my direction. It was unnatural how much her eyes bulged out of her head, and how much darker in color they now seemed.

“I have not forgotten of you. No, Fawn has not forgotten. You escaped me once in the woods, but not again. You take my Widow from me; Fawn will take your life from you.”

“She had contact with the witch who holds the Knowledge that makes us real,” Kat answered me, twisting the knife in her hand. Fawn hissed and screamed some more in response. “That is how she was able to make these children how they were--like us. That staff. Whoever gave it to her imbued it with the Knowledge to control the wilderness, create fog, and convert people into familiars.”

“Can one witch really do all of that?” I asked again.

“No, not normally,” Mr. Copper answered. “I am beginning to believe that it was imbued by three witches. However, Wildwood only has records on the latter, the one who can make familiars, and she has been missing for many, many years.”

“And now it’s time to find her,” Kat finished, pulling out the knife with a jerking twist. Fawn did not make any signs that she felt it.

“Foul, stinking, wretched pawn,” the old woman croaked. “You will never find Her. She only ever finds you.”

“It is a hopeless dance, Kat,” Mr. Copper urged, straining against the pain. I went over to aid him, but he held up a staying hand. “There is no time.”

He glanced down at my hand before looking back up at me. “The witch who made the staff, she is the one we must focus on finding first.”

“You will give her up,” Kat commanded, holding the knife up to Fawn’s wretched face, “or your suffering will only get worse.”

“You know nothing of suffering,” Fawn said, glaring back up at Kat. “Nothing at all.”

“Kat, stop it!” I shouted before she could bring the knife down again.

I tried to grab her, but she caught my wrist. I reached out with my free hand and clumsily grabbed her wrist before she could strike. “This isn’t going to help us! She isn’t going to talk. We have to think something else.”

Kat didn’t look at me. She seemed to still be staring at Fawn.

“Kat? Did you hear me? We need to-”

“Alex?” she said in a quiet voice.

I followed her eyes and realized my mistake when I saw the hand that was holding her wrist. I broke away from her, holding the wound close to my chest while Kat followed it with her eyes, her arms falling to her sides.

“It’s nothing, Kat, really. If we find the witch who did this-”

Fawn’s throaty laughter overtook what I was going to say. “Oooh, oooh oooh, so Fawn’s dear little Widow did not go without one final present? Shall I tell you, oh, sweet, doomed pawn? Shall Fawn tell you how special her dear Widow was? How Fawn made her special gift a little...extra special.”

“What are you...?”

I looked down at my hand. Was it just my eyes? My imagination? Did the purple veins seem to be extending down my arm now? Did the black skin around the bite appear to cover more of my hand then I last remembered?

“Alex?”

Kat had taken a step towards me. Those green eyes were so big. I was lost in them again. I couldn’t keep my heart from racing, couldn’t keep the sweat from falling.

“Elizabeth...It will be okay,” Mr. Copper urged. “Listen to Alex, if we find the witch-”

“Fawn will never tell! You pawns will all turn black and cease to ruin this world with your taint! So be gone! Gone! Gone! Gone!”

Kat’s arms twitched. I tried to make a move, Mr. Copper tried to make a move, but someone else was faster than the both of us. That someone descended from the ceiling like a predatory animal.

I watched him fall over Kat, his dark hair blanketing them both like a cloak. Through the twist and turns and tangles, I still saw it. Like some morbid dance played out in slow motion, I stood there and watched as his black teeth sunk into Kat’s throat.

The two fell away from each other, Kat gripping her bleeding neck and the lost boy grinning a smile of black and red. I charged towards Widow, but he ducked from my strikes and rammed into my stomach in response. I was back on the ground, hands pinned, and black teeth in my face before I could even do anything about it.

All I saw next were Kat’s shining eyes and a flash of silver before Widow gasped, his grip on me loosening. I shoved him off and he fell back and tried to stand before Kat was upon him again. She easily lifted him from the ground allowing me to see the handle of the knife sticking out from his back.

There was a strangled groan. I looked over to Mr. Copper. He had his gun out; it was shaking in his left hand as he held it pointed at the spot where Widow used to be.

“Despicable, foul, horrid, putrid pawn! Release Fawn’s Widow at once! Release her!” Fawn screamed from her chair.

Widow did not fight Kat’s hold on him as she dragged him over to the busted window with the dead branches. He looked at me for a moment, then at Fawn, a weak smile spreading across his face as he did. “Did I do well, mother?”

In one swift motion, Kat yanked the knife from his back and slid it across his throat. As the flow of red poured down, I watched his eyes grow dark before Kat shoved him out the window. His body broke and tore against the shards of glass and branches before he plummeted out of sight. His small, frail body did not make a sound when it landed.

Kat stared out the window for a moment before bringing a hand to her neck, almost as if the wound was an after-thought.

Then she collapsed.

I got to my feet and ran for her. Kat remained on the ground. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her arms and legs were twitching. I could see the black bite in her neck, the purple veins already spreading throughout her body.

I fell when I reached her, my ankle giving out on me again. I grabbed both of her hands. She did not grab them back. “Kat, please--”

“We chose you because you looked the part.”

There was not as much blood as Widow had when his throat was slit, but it was still there. Staining her shirt, her face, everything. Looking at it all, I barely had the presence of mind to catch what she was saying.

“What?”

Kat’s eyes were still half open, but she wasn’t looking at me. It didn’t seem like she was looking at anything.

“Your witch wanted her familiar to be a fox. The first step in choosing a familiar is to find a person who has certain physical resemblances of the animal. We needed someone with slim build, blue eyes, and, most importantly, red hair. For the first two years, Mr. Mallard and the rest of us searched for someone like you. Each year made him more desperate. Then, when you miraculously dropped in at the school, we jumped at the opportunity.”

“Kat, why are you-?”

“You were the closest fit,” Kat said, closing her eyes completely. “I know it probably isn’t the answer you wanted, but it’s the answer. You don’t have to keep wondering now. You can move on.”

I shut my own eyes. The tears that came out burned my face. I felt her squeeze my hand, weakly.

When I reopened my eyes, hers were open slightly again, and I knew she was looking at me. “Move on, Alex. Your life is not over. Find a reason to keep fighting.”

“You were my reason,” I broke, holding her hands to my face. “You and Mutt and Stallion and Mary. You guys were all I had left. And now...Now...”

Kat didn’t respond. Her grip on my hand was gone.

I pulled her hands away. Her eyes were closed. Her chest wasn’t moving. I dropped her hands and pressed an ear to her chest. At first, I could hear nothing, but, if I listened close enough, it was still there.

A heart beat.

“Tell me where to find the witch,” I said, standing up and turning to face Fawn.

The withered woman was slumped in the chair. She did not take her eyes off of the window where Widow disappeared through. I took the few steps needed and stood over her. My right hand was starting to overcome the pain from striking the lost child. I reached out and placed it over the damaged hand of hers still tied to the chair. “Please.”

“This was not how she said it would be,” Fawn whispered. “Fawn was promised change. She promised Fawn so much. Now Fawn sees that it was all empty. Promises, change--there is no such thing.”

“Fawn--”

“Foxy will find the witch with her lover and their spawns.” Fawn’s warm eyes met mine. “The one who made this staff. She asked of Fawn to keep the pawns occupied. She is with them now.”

Lover? Spawns?

I shot my head back to the unmoving Kat as something clicked. “You don’t mean...”

“It must be Dr. Quincy’s wife,” Mr. Copper finished.

“If you wish to save them, Foxy must hurry,” Fawn muttered before returning to gazing at the window

“She’s right. Alex, take the knife and help me up.”

It was like an out-of-body experience. As I walked to the knife, still feebly held in her hand, it didn’t feel like it was me who was walking. Or that it was me who picked up the knife--who was walking back to Mr. Copper.

“I am not in the condition to fight, but I can still use my Knowledge to make a doorway for you. Also, I want you to take this...” He held out his bronze gun, “...in my stead. You could use it more than I.”

Even though he no longer held it like he was going to shoot it, I flinched. “Thanks, but you should keep it. I really...I don’t think...”

“Say no more,” Mr. Copper said with a loose smile before holstering the gun. “I understand. Do you mind helping me up?”

He was as light as he appeared. Even though he insisted I mainly support him as we walked to the metal door, I could have very easily carried him, even in my condition.

As we approached the door, I finally realized how odd the silence was. The dogs were gone.

“Alright, Alex, could you cut my right arm? Deep enough for blood to generously flow.”

“Er, what?”

“I need to make a new design,” he said, indicating the one that had been carved in chalk before a bloody hand smeared its way across it. “During the struggle, I lost the instrument I was using and, as we know, time is of the essence.”

“Alright, alright. I get it.”

“Good, then--ah!” Mr. Copper sucked in air through his teeth as I carved a line into his shoulder, a little below the bite wound.

“Deep enough?”

“Let us hope so. I’d rather you not do that again. Now, do you mind removing what is left of the old design?”

I held him with one arm and used the other to wipe clean the chalk with a sleeve, soon leaving nothing but the smeared hand print. “Like that?”

“Perfect.”

He sucked in a deep breath. I nearly dropped him when I felt how hot his skin suddenly became. He started muttering something under his breath, too fast and quiet for me to catch. I watched in silence as the blood that was pouring from his open wound began to glow a brilliant gold.

“Uh...Mr. Copper?”

Still muttering, Mr. Copper dipped his index finger into the golden blood. I could not follow exactly what happened next. His left arm went in a blur between the door and his new wound and I watched a circle, with numerous numbers inside it, begin to form on the door at a rapid pace. The numbers became so packed together that they were forming twisting lines and shapes and designs as Mr. Copper put more and more within the circle.

It all continued to glow that bright golden color until his arm finally fell to his side. Afterwards, the symbol smeared on the door faded until it appeared as just deep red blood, almost black. “There now, that should do it.”

I couldn’t stop staring at the intricate design where, seconds ago, there was only a blank metal door. “Whoa,” was all I could think to say.

“Oh, did you like that? I’ll admit, it’s not as flashy as what some of the other witch’s can do, but it gets the job done.”

“Not flashy? Are you serious?”

“You’re referring to the golden light? Believe me, that is nothing compared to what some of our registered witches can do. Regardless, it’s ready and you need to go.”

“You’re staying here?”

“Indeed, I am. I will only slow you down. And with what you are going to face, you don’t need to be worrying about some dying man.”

“You aren’t dying. No one is dying,” I said, laying him back against the wall and ripping off another piece of my tattered shirt. Mr. Copper watched me as I wrapped it around the cut on his arm. “I’m going to stop her.”

“If you want to save me--save yourself--you do realize you may have to do more than just simply stop her.” Mr. Copper held my eyes after I had finished tying the makeshift bandage. “If you cannot convince her to stop, the only way is to kill her, and even then I am not even sure that she is the witch behind this poison. It could be any one of the three that imbued that staff.”

“Do not bother asking Fawn,” Fawn spoke up. “The witches never bothered telling Fawn of their special Knowledge.

“No time to worry about that then.” I stood up and faced the door. “I’ll stop her, and if I have enough time, I’ll get where the other witches are out of her and stop them.”

“Well, I can’t say that you aren’t setting high ambitions for yourself,” Mr. Copper said with a weak chuckle. “Good luck to you, Alex. Oh, and if Mary happens to track me down, would you want me to send her after you? I honestly do not know any longer what the right thing to do is.”

I looked over at Kat one last time. She was just as still as the lost girl who lay not far away.

“No, keep her out of this.”

“Very well, I will.”

I looked back at the door, at the symbol engraved in blood.

Mr. Copper will live. Kat will live. Stallion and Mutt are alive.

I looked down at the hand with black skin, the purple veins already running up the arm.

I will live. I will stop this witch from doing any more harm to my friends, to Dr. Quincy and his children. No more questions. No more worries. It was time for action.

I breathed in and out, slowly. I gripped the handle of Kat’s knife tightly in my right hand. I could no longer move my left hand.

I yelled. I screamed at the door before I ran towards it and shoved it open.