#fedoraspooky

Prescott had gotten into the habit of storing everything he wasn't sure how to sort, handle, or throw away into a single box, simply labeled 'WEIRD THINGS' in big capital letters. While the cardboard outside was benign, Prescott was certain at least a couple items that got tossed inside were cursed. He kept the box of 'WEIRD THINGS' shoved far into the corner of the garage under a tool bench for several years, until something he picked up made affairs surrounding the box significantly worse. Tools started to fly off the rack, rearrange themselves into cryptic symbols and messages on the work table. One instance, he even got the word 'STUCK' spelled out from wrenches and a tire iron. It was at that point, Old Mr. Prescott knew he was being haunted. Something else had arrived in his house, it threw things to get his attention or stole food from the fridge, and he had no idea how to drive it out. Professional exorcism did nothing - the wrenches were arranged to spell 'NO' a mere hour later. Setting up protective runes to drive out malevolent demons had no effect at all. The fridge was missing a jar of blackberry jam the next morning, found empty on the tool table. Old Mr. Prescott had moved the box away from the tool table and shoved it into a closet right after. But today was the day. He was going to be done with that cursed box, and whatever random object inside had brought this nuisance upon his house. With any luck, he might be able to sell it off with the rest of the junk. If not, Prescott resigned himself to throwing the entire box in the trash, and hopefully doing away with the poltergeist plague. He was getting too old to deal with this. --- Callie peeked out the window of the car as her mother drove through the residential neighborhood. Big eye blinking in the bright light of midday, she watched the trees full of autumn leaves zip by in a blur of color. It was so pretty! And it looked just like her hair! She was almost 6, soon to be a big girl, and she was quite proud of the vibrant yellow-orange petals starting to puff out from under the leaves on top of her head. Mom said it made her look quite fluffy, which made her think of her T.Rex stuffy, Munchy. Callie hugged Munchy tight, feet wiggling over the edge of the cushion. She was bouncing in her chair, excited. Her mom, a Dryad with hair made from sunflower petals and leaves, hummed to herself as she drove. She glanced over to Callie every now and then, smiling gently. "Thank you for being so patient, sweetheart," Mom says, reaching over with one hand to bump her daughter on the shoulder, before her hand returns to the wheel. "I know we've done a lot of errands today, but just one more, ok? We'll get ice cream afterwards- how does that sound?" "Ice cream!" Callie repeats, brightening at the thought. Ice cream?? Yes! Mom chuckles. "Mr. Prescott is having a garage sale for the first time in fifty years- there's sure to be some interesting finds in all that mess! The man hasn't cleaned house since we moved into the neighborhood before you were born. If you find something small that you like, I'll get it for you, ok?" "Yay!" Callie cheered, holding up Munchy in delight. A present, AND ice cream later? This was the best day out ever! The drive through the neighborhood was brief. The closer they got to the destination, Callie's mother squinted, making a sound similar to clicking her tongue. "Shoot, looks like we weren't the only ones with that idea," Mom mutters under her breath, looking left and right. Callie sits up, craning her neck to look outside at the houses. There were cars all over the place! Mom eventually finds a spot to park, a short distance from a house with wooden shingles and roof tiling. Gravel crunches under Callie's blue rubber sandals as she hops down from the car, turning to stare in wonder at the squat old house. It looked like a pop-up book whose contents had unfolded into the lawn and driveway. Furniture was strewn across the yellowing autumn grass, neatly arranged in a grid with walking space between every piece. Chairs, a

coffee table, a big old couch whose leather had softened from use. A squat Sphinx cat-man in a striped shirt, bowtie and overalls leaned on his cane while he spoke in a gruff voice to a woman. Callie didn't understand everything they were saying, but it was something about money, and the coffee table. Next to the furniture were foldout plastic tables covered in random things, some of which Callie had never seen before in her life. Kitchen utensils that could be from the Great Depression, glass dishware in pristine condition, hand-me-down clothing in less pristine condition. Oh! There was a toy table! Callie immediately scampered over to the toy table, hopping up and down to get a good look at the wares. The selection was charming, and had the warm feeling of well-loved antiques. A wooden pull-along train, a cloth teddy bear with button eyes, a cup with a ball on a string, and... some wooden cage-things with jingle bells in them? Callie shook one of them to see what noise it made, and the wrinkly cat-man looks up with ears perked for a moment, before shaking his head with a huff and returning to his conversation. Callie feels a hand on her shoulder, and smiles up at her Mom as she ruffles Callie's petal hair with the same hand. "I'll be talking to Mr. Prescott about some of the glass dishes," Mom says. "Don't go wandering off, and stay where I can see you. If you can be very careful and promise me you won't break any of Mr. Prescott's things, you can go ahead and explore, ok sweetie?" "Ok mom," Callie says, bouncing on her feet as Mom ruffles her hair one more time. "I'll be right over here," Mom says with a nod, keeping an eye on Callie while she walks over towards the cat-man, who had finished speaking with the other woman by this point. Free to explore, Callie's eye sparkles as she examines this wonderland of new things to investigate. It was like a playground, but small! Callie wastes no time hopping onto the big couch, quite pleased with how soft it felt. There was something just- fun!- about a couch being outside. It felt forbidden, like taking a cookie from the jar before dinner. From her elevated vantage point, Callie could see all the houses across the street, as well as some of Mr. Prescott's neighbors. One of them was mowing the lawn! Callie waved with enthusiasm. They stopped and stared at her, and Callie beamed a smile back. They kept staring, lawnmower stalled. Probably admiring her pretty orange petal hair! She was so proud of it. Callie stayed on the couch for another minute or two before she slid off, eager to look around. Mom said if she was nice and careful, she could have something small from all the things to play with here. She was going to be the best daughter ever. Callie explored through the kitchen things, first- while she was quite a mean chef with an Easy Bake oven, she wasn't quite tall enough to reach the counters yet in Mom's kitchen. A metal ladle was the first to be picked up, as she gently swung it around to feel the weight. Hm. Shiny, but heavy. Probably not fun to carry around for very long. She put it back down. Next was an ironically stained stainless steel pot. That went right over her head. Hmmm. No, it blocked her eye. Not a good helmet. Not much else in the kitchen section was interesting, aside from a few wooden spoons that were smooth to the touch. Callie could see her Mom side-eyeing her from the table where she was talking five feet away. Callie carefully returned the kitchen things to their proper places and moved on to the next table. It was covered in books! Callie got very excited, until she saw how thick they were. These would take forever to read! Maybe she could convince her mom to pick up some of the more colorful books for them to read together, but aside from making a fort or tiny city using the books as bricks, there wasn't much this table had to offer for a five-year-old. At least the books smelled nice. The old clothing didn't smell so nice. Callie poked her head into the hanging rack of old coats and shirts, feeling like a spy - until the scent of

mothballs made her sneeze, and she pulled her head back out with a squint of disgust. Ew. The clothes were all too big, anyway. And some had holes in them! She could have sworn she saw a small poof of moths flutter off one of the old frock coats. She liked bugs, but not in clothing. The thought of a moth crawling around her favorite yellow dress and nibbling at her pretty petal hair made her squirm. At long last, Callie let herself return to the piece de resistance- the toy table. She wanted to play-test everything here! Within reason, of course. Mom said to be careful. Carved wooden train cars, a deck of cards- even the creepy monkey with the pair of cymbals got some attention. Callie poked at it, afraid it would move, and was grateful when it remained inert. The eyes wigged her out. No thanks. The cards were arranged in patterns, and she didn't quite know how to play with them, but they fascinated her regardless- definitely not a first choice, though. Callie compared the old cloth teddy to Munchy, who she sat up next to it with a critical toddler eye. The teddy was a bit smaller than Munchy, and not quite as soft. Cute eyes, though! Callie picked up the wooden train cars, turning them over in thought. They felt sturdy, and were polished with wood lacquer. Soft and smooth, and really cool! It was a bit heavy, but that was fine. She was sorely tempted to pick one as her choice, but she had to know how they rolled. If they couldn't roll like a train, they wouldn't be fun. Putting all of the other toys back where they used to be, Callie set the toy train engine on the floor, and pushed it with her hand. The toy train made a delightful clatter of wooden parts, the wheels carrying it over the bumpy concrete of the driveway. It comes to a stop after a foot of travel. Callie smiles, clapping her free hand against Munchy, before scampering forward and taking the pull chord. It rolled so easily behind her, and she didn't have to worry about breaking it if she was in front. Callie giggles, running in delighted little circles with the train clacking along behind her- -until the train veers from a bump in the concrete, and clatters into the leg of a smaller foldout table. The bump wasn't strong, but it was enough to make the table rattle. Callie froze on the spot as several small trinkets and random objects fly off the table to the ground, fear spiking in her chest as she looks over towards her mom. Mom was still talking to the cat man about the set of chairs, but she did glance over with a raised eyebrow. Callie quickly waved back with a smile, trying to feign that everything was alright. Her mom looked curious for a moment, before the cat man drew her attention back to the conversation at hand. Callie immediately drops the train chord and kneels on the ground next to the small table, checking desperately to make sure everything that fell off was okay. The small table had been holding random trinkets and knickknacks, pieces of old jewelry, and a metal cup that thankfully stayed on the table- Callie was sure she would have been in trouble if Mom heard THAT hit the ground. The objects that fell from the table were all sorts of small things, ranging from expensive-looking jewelry to simple puzzle toys that looked more like key chains for a backpack zipper. Callie quickly picked up a necklace- which, thankfully, hadn't broken or chipped- featuring a large amber-colored stone, and stood up to replace it on the table. Necklaces hung from the weird bird perch-looking thing, right? There were other necklaces on it, so that was where it was going. She had to hop a few times to reach it, but she managed to loop the necklace back on the display. Next was a wooden block puzzle- it was so simple that she solved it in her efforts to put it back together, before setting it on the tabletop. Some rings, sparkly rocks, more key chains- Callie knelt down to continue cleaning the mess, panic still bringing a light sweat to the back of her neck. Among the mess was a small bag of marbles, and she'd accidentally knocked one of them across

the asphalt of the driveway. Scampering over, the youngster picks up the shooter marble- and pauses. Sitting on the sunlit path, sparkling in the light, was a small key. Blue-black of the deepest reaches of space, shaped so strangely, it lay half-under a stray tablecloth from where it had clattered to the ground. Callie couldn't make out a lot of details, but even from here, the light that hit the object was seemingly absorbed by its depths, casting almost no shadow. Yet, the sunlight caused a small scattering of stars to sparkle on the asphalt. ...Callie crawls forward, leaning under the table and lifting the cloth with one hand to pick it up. She slides back out to hold the key in the sunlight, fascinated. The key was very odd in shape. The teeth were thick and blocky, with an angled shape she hadn't seen on her toy keyring. The head of the key was weird, too- three holes arranged in a semicircle, and the top was swirled. Like ice cream, or a cinnamon bun! This key was so pretty! But- what was it a key for? Well, whatever it was for, it sure was pretty! Why would the cat-man be selling a key? Didn't you need keys to lock and unlock stuff? If he was getting rid of it, he must not need it anymore. ...a gentle breeze tugged at Callie's sleeve. She- felt something at her shoulder. Callie turns around, curious and confused- but there's nothing there. Huh. That was strange. But- she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was here. She wasn't scared, though. It was a warm presence. A gentle one. She couldn't explain how, but she knew. Whoever or wherever they were, they were nice! "Callie?" her mother called. Callie jumped to attention, startled out of her small reverie by the crashing reality that she still had a mess to clean up. She scrambles to pick up the remaining items and shove them back onto the table, no longer caring for organization- -but the ground is clean. Huh? Did she pick it all up already? Callie could have sworn there were still scattered items on the driveway. But the ground was clear. Even the wooden train car, which she'd crashed into the table leg, was back in its place on the toy table. How-? "Callie!" Mom says, and Callie spins around with a wide eye. "Honey, are you alright over here? I thought I heard something fall over." "Oh- I'm ok, mom!" Callie says quickly, putting on a smile. Inside, she's still confused. Did she clean up the mess that fast? "Okay," Mom says, looking around with a critical eye. Seeing nothing amiss, she appears satisfied. "Have you settled on something to take home, sweetie?" Callie takes a breath to answer that she wanted the train car- then stops. She squints, thinking. She looks down at the key in her hands, turning it over in the sunlight. It sparkled and was warm to the touch. It felt good to hold, smooth and polished. She couldn't explain why, but it felt like holding Munchy- soft and comforting, somehow. "I like this!" Callie said, making up her mind as she holds up the starry key with a smile. "Oh my," her mom says with a smile, looking at the sparkling key her daughter presented. "It's so lovely! Are you sure you want this, and not one of the toys?" "Mmmm," Callie hums in thought, eye narrowed. She did really like that train car, but... she makes a big smile. "No, I want this! It's pretty! Feels soft, like Munchy!" Mom chuckles, patting Callie on the head as she hefts her stuffed T. Rex and hugs it tight. "If you're sure, pumpkin. Let's take it over to Mr. Prescott, and we'll see if we can buy it." Callie's mom gently takes her hand, and starts to lead the tiny flower puff away from the display tables back towards the lawn. Callie clutches her pretty new key to her front, beaming. It wasn't a toy train, but it was so pretty! She'd definitely add it to her keyring, filled with toy keys and old spares her mother let her play 'house' with. Her shadow warped on the ground behind her skipping steps, forming into a curious silhouette. Flowing almost like water, the shape is thin, and retains a vague semblance of a person. Three eyes, like cutouts

in a piece of paper, followed Callie with a gentle curiosity from the head that flowed like gel in a lava lamp. The warm presence remained at Callie's back, as the child pranced at her mom's side to buy her pretty new trinket. --- Callie's mom finally finished talking to Mr. Prescott. The sphinx cat-man didn't blink an eye at the item of Callie's choosing, asking only for a handful of dollars in exchange. He shook paw with her mother's ebony black hand, and the two turned towards the arrangement of chairs set out for display. Callie watched as her mother passed the cat-man several more large green bills, and he gestured with his cane towards the chairs with a gruff nod. Looking relieved, Callie's mother walked over to her daughter and knelt to eye level. "We're just about done, sweetie," Mom said, smiling as she ruffled Callie's petal hair, earning a giggle. "Mr. Prescott's just going to help me load up the chairs, and we can get going for that ice cream, ok?" "Ok, mommy," Callie agreed, smiling. "Thank you for being so patient, baby girl," her mother sighed, quite tired, but managing. "This is the last errand, I promise. Hang tight, I'll be right over here- and don't go anywhere!" Callie nods, sitting down on the grass with a happy hum as she plays with some clovers popping out of the lawn. Her mother walked back over to where she'd parked the car. With the help of the old cat-man, who was surprisingly limber for his age, Callie's mother got ahold of some straps and began the process of lifting the dining room chairs from the grass one by one. Callie smiled and waved every time they got close, getting smiles from her mom and amused half-chuckles from the cat-man. She busied herself with plucking the little clover blossoms, arranging them into little intertwined bracelets. She even got ambitious and started making a flower crown- it smelled really nice! Struggled to hold its shape, though, with how short and flimsy the clover stems were. Maybe the bees would like it? Callie liked bees, so fuzzy and clumsy. At least Munchy liked it! She put her first tiny flower crown on the T. Rex's head. Callie's mother and Prescott finished moving the chairs to the car, and started lifting them to be secured down on the car roof with the straps. Right then, Callie feels a rough grip latch onto her arm. Startled, Callie yelps as she's pulled up to standing, her eye snapping wide open as she looks up in shock and surprise. The hand on her arm belonged to the neighbor she'd spotted from the couch, the one who was mowing their lawn not long ago. They were holding her arm very tight! It hurt! She squirmed and tried to push the fingers off of her, but she was a small child and this was an adult. They were much stronger. "Hey kiddo," they say, smirking with alcohol on their breath. "Your mom's busy, so she told me to watch you for a bit. It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you." Alarm bells were firing off in Callie's mind, as she stared up at this total stranger in fear. Her mom told her all the time, don't talk to strangers! This stranger was way too close for comfort, and hurting her! "L-let go!" Callie pleads, trying to sound brave like a big girl, but it only came out in a squeak. "You're weird!" "I'm weird? You've got a flower for a head," they say, less amused, and frowning now. "There's a lot weirder things than me in this world, kid. How about we take a break from the sun in my house? It's right across the street, you saw it from your little seat on the couch earlier. We can even pet my dog- how does that sound? Your mom said it was ok." Callie looks desperately over to her mother, trying to confirm in some way if this was true, but her mother was still busy loading the chairs on the truck. She was on the other side, and couldn't see what was going on unless she peered through the car windows. The neighbor yanks on Callie's arm, causing her to yelp again as she's tugged off the grass and away from Munchy. "Come on, kid- let's go, it'll be quick," the neighbor insists. "No!" Callie says, trying to raise her voice as

she tugs back, straining with all her might to pull away. "Let go!" Somebody help! Please! wcrACK The hand releases, and Callie plops down onto the grass in surprise. From her shadow on the ground, a long snakelike limb had sprung into reality, and whipped the neighbor across the face with incredible force. "aUGH- WHAT THE FU-GKKGHK-" Before the neighbor can finish, the tendril swiftly wraps around their neck, tightening. It coils, lifting the stranger a foot off the ground. They struggle and squirm, held aloft and clawing at the cable of night-sky patterned darkness at their throat. Five seconds pass, and the tendril lifts them higher, before slamming their face down into the dirt. The neighbor coughs and groans, protesting the treatment as they're lifted yet again. From behind Callie, her shadow bubbles up, gaining size and definition as it materializes into a figure of its own. Movements fluid like water, the stick-thin limb around the stranger's throat is connected to an equally thin shoulder on a being whose body reflects a sky full of stars. A window to the universe in the vague shape of a person. On the presumed head is a set of golden eyes, narrowed in anger as they focus on the stranger. They tower over Callie, hovering protectively as they step forward, blocking Callie from the neighbor's sight. Callie stares, wide-eyed. This thing was so big, so strange! She didn't feel afraid- why wasn't she afraid? Were they- saving her? "Never touch her again," they warn, voice like a hissing bell. "You will get no mercy." This time, the neighbor doesn't get much chance to choke on their words. The being reels back that limb, and with a snap of elastic tension, whips the unfortunate schmuck across the lawn. They collide with a table, crumpling over one side as the contents are thrown akimbo with a loud crash. That immediately gets the attention of Mr. Prescott and Callie's mother, who stop dead before racing over to the commotion. Prescott leaps with nimble steps to yell at the neighbor, while Callie's mother runs right over to her daughter. She passes the thin void-person without even a glance. "Sweetie!" she frets, kneeling down to look over her daughter in worry. "What happened? Are you ok?" "M-mom," Callie stammers, still spooked and staring at the big starry thing right next to them. "The- they- they helped me. The star-man- saved me." "The who?" Callie's mother repeats, confused, looking around. Her eye slides right over the star-man nearby, not a hint of recognition. "Honey, who saved you? From what?" Callie's rapid heartbeat stars to slow in her chest as the fear is gradually replaced by confusion. She frowns and points over her mother's shoulder. "The star-man! They saved me," she explains, uncertain how else to explain it. She doesn't know how, but... somehow, they saved her. "They stopped the bad man. He hurt my arm..." Callie's mother wastes no time looking at both her arms. As she does so, the star-thing slides closer. Callie watches with owl-eye as the being gets very close, and extends a tendril-arm towards her. Having seen what those snake arms can do, she flinches back, and the arm stops. "Honey, I can't see where it hurts if you don't hold still," her mother says, taking the flinch as a response to her checking. Callie is still staring right at the void creature. She- can't read their face very well, if that is a face. The golden eyes blink, and they speak again. It's oddly comforting. "I will not hurt you. I promise. Will you let me help?" Were they asking her? Callie hesitates. She wasn't supposed to listen to strangers. She just dealt with a scary stranger. But this one carried that same softness, that feeling of safety. She couldn't explain how, but she knew they meant it. She could feel it in her bones. In any case, her mom was here now- if they tried anything, mom would knock them silly. Uncertain, but feeling more confident, Callie nods once. The being extends the arm again, and ever so carefully taps Callie on the arm with the pointy limb. They leave it gently overtop

the area where the bruise was forming from the neighbor's harsh grip. Warmth emanates from the contact, and within moments, the bruise that had begun to bloom faded away, leaving only the healthy charcoal-colored flesh. They remove the starry limb shortly after, Callie staring in amazement. Callie's mother is perplexed, looking at the same arm. "That's... hm. I could have sworn you were bruised... Callie, sweetie, are you alright?" she asks, concerned. Callie flexes the arm, and is amazed to find the arm is totally fine. It didn't hurt at all! That was so cool! She looks up with a smile to thank the starry stranger- -only to see empty sidewalk. Callie looks left and right. Where did they go? They were just here... "Callie?" Oh- right, her mom! "I'm ok," Callie says, meaning it this time. "Arm feels fine, now. Starry man fixed it!" "Alright," Callie's mother says, sighing once with a closed eye. "Well, as long as you're not hurt or anything, sweetheart. You tell me if anything feels wrong, ok?" "Ok, mommy," Callie says, glancing over to where the neighbor was getting reprimanded by the cat-man. The reprimands progressed into the neighbor getting menaced with the cane, cowed away from the cat-man's yowling. "Can- can we go, now?" "Yes, sweetie, of course. Let's go get that ice cream." Callie's mother takes hold of her daughter's hand, scooping up Munchy to tuck into her daughter's arms, and the two start walking out to the car. Callie glances over her shoulder, looking all over for the starry man, but not seeing them anywhere. That was a shame... she really wanted to thank them! As she clambers up onto the car seat, a star-speckled shadow follows at her back, vigilant and close. ~~~

The End

Lukas ran a hand through his reddish-brown curls, scratching absentmindedly at his scalp, as he tried to focus on the textbook in front of him. Usually, studies or a good story were enough to distract anxious thoughts but today was different. His heart occasionally skipped a beat, causing his chest to tighten uncomfortably, and he found himself sighing frequently due to forgetting to breathe. His teeth, particularly his canines, ached from what he assumed was clenching his jaw too much.

Scratching at his chest, he closed the textbook with a sigh and pushed to his feet. He stretched out his arms, favoring the still tender spot on his right bicep. A quick glance out the library window told him it was late in the day. Remembering that Vanessa had retired to her room early for a nap, he figured he best go check on her and see if she was ready for dinner.

Though he often had a difficult time eating when nerves overwhelmed him—evident by his forgetting to eat lunch earlier that afternoon—he found he was famished and yearned for some protein. Eager to join his love and eat, he walked briskly through the manor, heading to her bedroom.

“Princess?” He tapped on the door that was opened a crack. The door squeaked open and he hesitated before peering in. He found her room was empty but noted the electric blue forget-me-not she had tucked into a vase on her desk. Smiling, he calmly backed out of the doorway. He shut the door and decided to stop by his room to grab his surprise before heading down to dinner.

In his room, his suitcase was half-filled at the far corner by the bookshelf. He had started packing few days ago, hoping to return to Lucidia to spend some time with his father and brother. But Vanessa had insisted he stay for the weekend in Subcon, after a woeful reprimanding from her mother.

It had been his fault, really. Lukas had convinced Vanessa to sneak out into the village with him and took her to a flower field. Her mother had found out and Lukas could hear the yelling from his room. As soon as he had been able, he hurried to Vanessa’s side, finding her trembling with the tips of her fingers blue. Upon seeing him, she had immediately clasped her freezing hands around his right bicep and the ice burned through his shirt and into his skin. He had to grit his teeth to avoid wincing, but when he saw her features, he found it easier to forget about the pain in his arm. Tears had streamed from her eyes, coalescing into snowflakes that floated down to their feet. She had begged him with a cracking voice to stay, reminding him that he had suggested the excursion in the first place and that she was so miserable without him. He had agreed to stay, desperate to help his beloved feel safe and sound.

Regardless, he hadn’t unpacked his suitcase, as if stalling would magically open up a chance for him to return home. He loved Vanessa, but he missed his family with an ache.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he crossed over to the bookshelf and removed a book of poetry he had purchased from the village. He opened to the page with a collection of forget-me-nots he had pressed for Vanessa.

The sunlight streaming in through the window blazed orange as dusk began to stretch across the sky.

While Vanessa didn’t usually read poetry, he had thought the collection of love poems might cheer her heart and make her think of him, whenever she read them.

His heart lurched in his chest as a wave of anxiety washed over him. He frowned, scratching at his shirt as he tried to figure out what was making him feel so unsettled. Shades of pink and purple painted the twilight.

Closing the book gently, he took a step forward, intending to start for the kitchen, but the restlessness itched from his core and through his entire body. Dread overwhelmed him and he found his hands were quaking. Placing the poetry book down on his bed, he stared, bewildered, at his shaking hands. What—?

Nightfall covered the land and Lukas’ spine snapped as pain blazed in his chest.

He yelped, bringing his hands to his chest and hunching over. His stomach felt as hot as molten steel and his insides felt like they were melting. Horrid pops and cracks resounded as bones shifted under his skin. Dropping forward, Lukas gripped at the carpet, yelling as his clothes shrunk and pressed painfully at his flesh.

Tufts of purple fur bled from his hands like shadows. His reddish-brown locks in his eyes shifted into a similar shade as his chest expanded. The rip of his shirt and pants accompanied the tumultuous tear of muscles as his back lengthened and his legs stretched. Fingers melted together and claws slid against the carpet. His legs melted painfully together, and he stretched out his neck as his jaw split and reassembled into a glowing maw, his canines shifting toward the front of his mouth.

Lukas let out an inhuman scream, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the pain.

“Lukas?” Vanessa’s clear voice called.

The door slammed open and the beast open his eyes, which glowed as golden as the harvest moon. He only felt two things.

Pain. And hunger.

The creature let out a low growl, pushing a step back with drawn claws. Golden liquid dripped from his hanging jaw as he eyed the woman’s bright, enticing soul. A quick sniff told him the soul would be cool but soothing enough to ebb the pain of the shifting shadows that made up his body. Drool poured from his maw and he hunched into a hunting position.

“Lukas?” The woman’s eyes darted to the tattered clothes surrounding him and fearful tears welled up in her eyes, her features contorting into despair and horror.

The creature hissed, tail wiggling as he readied to pounce. Since she was distracted, it would be easy to snap the soul from her body and swallow the enticing supper. He was so hungry.

An ache in his chest urged him to stop. The creature paused as the woman started hyperventilating. Suddenly, the creature felt a wave of sorrow and guilt larger than his hunger. He whined, pawing unhelpfully at the carpet.

“What did you do?” Vanessa screeched, her hands becoming swallowed in the same pale blue that matched her soul.

The creature flinched back, tail thumping anxiously as he felt a phantom ache on his arm that he didn’t understand. He looked towards the window, locating the escape route. With one last hungry glance at her soul and one last pulse of shame, the creature crashed through the window.

Being as the bedroom had been on the second floor, the creature dropped down clumsily into the rose bushes below. Thorns cut into his fur and he whined. But hunger pushed him forward and his claws tore at the earth as his tail snaked behind him. He crossed the bridge as the warm summer night grew considerably colder.

There was a village in front of him. A plethora of souls could be sensed, and his mouth watered. But… no… something stopped him with a drum of an anxious heart. The beast pawed at his face and growled before turning towards the forest.

Yes. Good. Animals to hunt.

Not people. Anything but a person.

The creature practically flew into the woods, growling as the air began to frost. The creature, uncomfortable, hissed and flames licked at the corners of his glowing mouth. Warmth filled his core and he moved on, quickly locating the soul of fox already fleeing from the cold. Licking his flaming jaws, the shadowy beast took off after the fox and swiftly caught up to it.

Clamping burning jaws around the fox’s neck, the shadow beast sucked up its soul in one bite. The soul merged with the beast’s consuming shadows, curbing his itching appetite. Then, the creature finished off the fox in easy bites. While he crunched his meal, he barely registered the thickening frost in the air.

Bark of the trees cracked as ice formed in tree rings. The frozen grass chipped under the beast’s weight. Storm clouds formed overhead.

The creature, satisfied with his meal and suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion on his eyelids, let out a noisy yawn, stretching out his back before coiling up. The beast fell into a deep sleep as snowflakes started to fall.

The beast slept until the sun began to rise. Discomfort itched through his body and he stretched out his tail, uncoiling as he felt himself shrink. Growling, he rolled onto his stomach, clasping at grass as claws receded into human hands. Awful sounds of bones popping back into place disrupted the silence of the forest. Lukas tensed as his tail divided back into legs. When the transformation finished, he let out a worn sigh, aching all over.

His mind was fuzzy and his mouth felt dry. Wanting nothing more than to lay there, he would have until something icy brushed his hand.

“Nnngh?” Lukas jerked up, his back popping painfully. Holding himself up on trembling arms, he winced as bright white snow assaulted his vision.

“Snow?” He wondered; his tongue thick in his mouth. In summer? Wait. Why was he in the forest?

And where were his clothes?

He yelped, turning around and staring at his bare legs. Panic gripped his chest as the ice encroached upon the patch of grass he had been laying on. He tried to scramble to his feet, but his legs felt as steady as a house of cards. Dropping back down onto the ice, he shivered.

“Calm down,” Lukas muttered to himself, forcing steady breaths. He could figure this out. The last thing he remembered was grabbing the poetry book he wanted to give to Vanessa. He remembered he was heading to the kitchen and then—

Oh. Oh no.

It was difficult to discern exactly what had happened, but he remembered changing and hurting and then he remembered Vanessa coming in. Vanessa. The snow must have been hers.

He willed himself onto shaking and now shivering legs. Taking a cautious step forward, he managed to keep himself upright despite how his weak legs threatened to buckle. He stumbled through the forest, leaning onto frozen trees and grabbing frozen bushes as he went. Every movement aggravated his sore bones and the closer he got to the manor, the colder the air got.

Nearing the edge of the forest, he looked down at himself, flushing. Snapping a nearby cluster of branches from a bush, he awkwardly held it over his waist for cover. Once he left the forest, the frozen land before him caused his heart to drop to his stomach.

“No,” he gasped, his warm breath milky white. “No, this can’t be.”

The stone bridge to the manor had crumbled, with large boulders encased in the river of ice below. Massive shards of ice surrounded the manor, closing it off from the world.

Lukas shook his head, his breathing becoming more and more panicked as he recalled the fear in Vanessa’s eyes when he had almost—the thought made him feel sick.

Nausea twisted his stomach and he felt something rise. He raised a fist to his mouth, coughing. A thick wad of acid and ashes entered his mouth and he hacked up a bundle of singed orange fur. He spat the wad out of his mouth, groaning at the stray hairs on his tongue.

Ugh! What was—?

The memory of his teeth around a fox’s neck flashed to the forefront of his mind and he paled.

He had really—He had really turned into a monster.  

He gave one remorseful look at the manor before turning to the village, swallowing thickly.

Vanessa’s magic had always been fueled by her emotions. The frost scars on his shivering body were consequences of it. But… he usually was the one who comforted her and helped her tame the ice. He had never been the source of her fear. And now, there was so much ice because of how he had frightened her.

Concerned for the villagers, he trudged carefully across the ice. The pads of his already-tired feet ached with each step and being naked in a frozen village was less than ideal but despite his chattering teeth, he was somehow okay.

When he got close enough to the road, he ducked behind a bush and snuck behind objects as he adjusted the placement of the frozen bush in his hands, looking for anyone also confused by or investigating the ice. But the village was coated in an eerie silence.

“Excuse me?” Lukas called, getting more and more worried. Finally, he spotted someone in the street, arm outstretched. The person’s back was to Lukas. Lukas ducked closer, realizing he was by the bookstore. He hid modestly behind an ice-encased fence.

After all, it wouldn’t do for a prince to appear indecent!

“Hello? My sincerest apologies, but I—hello?” Lukas’ heartbeat quickened when the person remained unmoving.

Modesty be darned, Lukas hurried forward.

“Sir—” he reached out a hand but paused when he realized a layer of blue ice coated the person before him. Lukas darted around the frozen statue and found himself looking at Tucker, who had been waving at one of the village children—also frozen—with a book in their hands.

The petrified scene before him nearly tore his heart in two. No. No. He whipped his head around, his bangs tumbling into his eyes. He brushed back his hair and noted a couple more statues.

Had everyone been frozen?

Why was he okay?

A tightness squeezed his chest as a lump formed in his throat. He shivered in the cold and he realized whatever kept him from becoming an ice statue himself would probably not last much longer.

Since he couldn’t get into the manor, he would have to scavenge for clothes and—he added with a rumbling stomach—food. He glanced at Tucker. Having spent long hours discussing literature or studies with the shopkeeper, Lukas determined Tucker wouldn’t mind him borrowing some clothes.

It took a couple yanks, but Lukas finally managed to pry open the frozen door to the bookstore and he slipped inside, relieved to be out of the cold. He quickly found Tucker’s bedroom and got dressed in a simple tunic and pair of pants. Lukas found Tucker’s old cloak, no doubt from his days as a traveler. Lukas paused, rubbing a trembling thumb over the cloak as he remembered the tales of the world Tucker had often shared with him.

“Forgive me, Tucker,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

He tied the cloak around himself and set to work. He felt awful for essentially raiding Tucker’s shop, even grabbing a book about curses and a book by an author he had been eying for awhile and adding them to the pack he had filled with food and a handful of coins. Promising he would compensate Tucker if a few miracles occurred, he snagged a few more articles of clothing and even some parchment and a quill with a small vial of ink.

“Apologies,” he offered sheepishly to Tucker’s frozen statue as he left the bookstore with a hefty pack on his aching back. The sky above him darkened with storm clouds and he glanced back at the manor, where the clouds seemed to be thick with snow. Lukas bit his lip and yelped at the sharp pain that accompanied it.

Lifting a wary hand to his mouth, he tapped his canines, which had sharpened considerably since the last time he had checked. He frowned, his heart pounding.

Vanessa—Vanessa should be okay in the manor. The ice wouldn’t freeze her. And while he ached to go and make sure she was okay, the memory of how she had looked at him in his monstrous form gave him pause. He couldn’t face her now, not when he was so confused and… well… scared himself.

With a new wave of ice magic threatening to further bury the village in snow, Lukas fled.