#midsummer nightmare

On the exhale, he let the arrow fly loose, but, as it barrelled straight towards the doe, it seemed to almost wiggle in the air, veering enough off-course to fly over the doe’s head. To Arne’s astonishment, the doe merely glanced up before meandering off, away from Arne.

Unable to allow his prey to escape so easily, he pulled another arrow from his quiver as he followed the beautiful beast on light, near silent feet. This time, when the doe settled, Arne allowed himself to creep even closer to her, making sure he wouldn’t miss again.

The second shot hit the doe right in the heart, causing her to collapse with an eerie quietness. As Arne stepped forward to claim his prey, he suddenly became aware of another presence. Kneeling next to the still beast, he looked around, settling one hand lightly on the hilt of the knife he kept at his side at all times.

“Good shot.” The voice was soft, smooth, like warm honeyed tea sliding down your throat.

Arne spun around, fingers tightening around his blade, as he located the figure.

At first appearance, the stranger looked so out of place, it was borderline absurd to the point that Arne had to resist the urge to laugh.

They were tall, with pale golden hair that barely brushed the nape of their neck. Even with the stranger in the shadows of the trees, Arne could see their unnatural golden eyes glinting with curiosity. Even the stranger’s clothes were off-putting: finely made black cloth with golden threads adorning it, fitted closely and precisely to the stranger’s frame, as if it had been made specifically for them. Nobody in Arne’s village could afford to purchase or make fabric like that, even if they could spare the time and energy it would take to travel to the nearest town to acquire it—which they couldn’t.

“Who are you?” Arne asked, attempting to keep his voice flat and even, not threatening but not allowing any nerves to show, either.

The stranger smiled, showing off pearly white teeth that seemed a bit too sharp- Arne blinked and the stranger’s smile looked normal.

“My name is Ikalos,” the stranger said, in a subtle foreign lilt. They weren’t difficult to understand; in fact, their voice had a melodic cadence to it. “I apologize if I startled you. I’m unfamiliar with this area, and I seem to have gotten myself turned around. Would you mind pointing me to the nearest town or village? Anywhere I could find a meal and lodging for the night, really.”

Shoulders relaxing, Arne offered the man—for, now that he got a better look at him, Ikalos was quite masculine, despite the strange beauty he had—a tentative smile. “Sorry for my rudeness, I’m just not used to seeing people this far out. A lot of them fear the forest, even if they say they don’t. My village is the closest to here, only a mile or so hike, and then another half mile to my family’s home. We have plenty of room if you would care to stay the night.” Arne hesitated. “Not a lot of people in my village are all that welcoming to strangers, if you know what I mean.”

Ikalos nodded, clarity glinting in his eyes. “I do understand, yes. Well, if you do not mind, I would like to join you on your walk back, if only to ensure I don’t get myself twisted back up in this damned forest.” He paused, licking his lips. “I can even help you carry this doe back, since it seems you have enough you’re already carrying,” eyeing Arne’s bow and quiver, the rest of his bounty for the day, and the belt slung low across his hips, where his knife and waterskin hung.

Arne smiled. “That would be great, actually, now that you mention it, it is pretty hot outside.” Unfastening his waterskin, he held it out. “Would you care for a drink? I can’t promise how cold it is, but it’s fresh at least.”

Ikalos pulled his own skin from somewhere that Arne hadn’t noticed before. “I appreciate your offer, but I’ve been staying plenty hydrated. This is a delightful fruity wine that has been passed down in my family for generations. Light and refreshing, without the alcohol being overpowering. Would you like a taste? It truly is the least I could do.” He held it out between them.

Shrugging, noticing the sandpaper-like texture of his lips, Arne accepted the skin gratefully, noticing in the back of his mind how soft and supple the skin was. Uncorking it, he took a tentative sip, marveling at the airiness of the drink, how he felt rejuvenated almost immediately. “This is delicious!” he exclaimed, attempting to pass it back but Ikalos waved him off. 

“Please, drink your fill. I’ve had plenty of the stuff over the years,” he said. “By the way, I didn’t catch who you said you were. May I have your name?”

After another, deeper gulp of the wine, Arne held his hand out to shake Ikalos’. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. My name is Arne. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“It truly was a fortunate twist of fate that you caught my nose— I mean, my ear. I heard your footsteps and had to try to find you myself. This really is quite ideal timing for myself, but, well, that’s a long story.” Ikalos grinned, this time his teeth definitely looked too sharp.

Blinking away the sudden blurriness in his vision, Arne frowned. “I’m sorry, I think you lost me.” Shaking his clouded head, Arne turned away. “Anyways, we should probably head back now, if we want to reach the village before total nightfall.”

As he turned, though, the air seemed to shimmer and warp before him, and his limbs seem to stop obeying him, becoming impossibly heavy. “Woah,” he murmured. “I- uh, I’m not feeling too- um, too well.”

Too-cold hands gently guided him onto the forest floor, making him sit down rather harder than he was expecting. Those strange—inhuman, Arne was realizing, too late—golden eyes stared deep into him. “It’s alright now, Arne, everything will be perfectly okay, my dear,” Ikalos said softly, gently. “But for now, Arne, go to sleep.”

At those words, Arne’s eyes slipped closed and his consciousness left him.

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He found himself in a large, elegant bedroom. The head of his bed was pressed against the middle of one wall, a large vanity with a gilded mirror and ornately carved backless chair was on the wall opposite him, a couch that seemed to be made of velvet was pressed against another wall, with a bookcase filled with leather-bound tomes next to it. There were three separate doors that Arne could see: one was on the same wall with the couch that appeared to lead into a washroom, if the white marble and claw-foot tub were any indication, one was opposite that door and it seemed to be a small balcony, the door cracked open slightly allowing sunlight to filter in as gauzy curtains swayed slightly from the breeze. The final door was the only one that was closed and it was made of a rich, dark wood with golden gilding marking out intricate designs.

As he looked around, Arne wracked his brain for what could have possibly led him here. He remembered the woods, attempting to hunt, his bounty being pitifully small.

The doe.

That golden-haired stranger.

Ikalos.

Eyes widening and throat constricting, Arne rapidly scrambled out of the bed, struggling to get out due to the number of sheets and blankets atop him and the thick mattress sinking beneath his weight. Finally, he made it to the edge, all but tumbling out.

As he stood on shaking legs, Arne noticed that his clothes had been… replaced? Although he was not sure that what he was currently wearing could even be considered clothing. A thin white shift hung on his bony frame, with a wide neckline, showing his protruding collarbones, and ending a little above his knees. His feet were bare.

As Arne looked around, bewildered, the glint of the door handle turning caught his eyes, and he scrambled back against the far wall, imagining he did not look unlike that doe that he had shot.

The door swung open on silent hinges, and the sunlight reflected off that golden hair as Ikalos stepped inside, smoothly shutting the door behind him.

Arne stiffened, distrust evident in his eyes. “Where am I? What did you do to me?”

Ikalos let out a low chuckle, the sound sending goosebumps down Arne’s spine. “Relax, my dear,” he said, in that same strange lilt. “All will be answered in due time. Please, don’t worry yourself over such trivial matters.” He glided forward, until he was only inches away from Arne, who felt his back straightening almost impossibly more. Ikalos raised a single hand, his fingers unnaturally long and thin, and gently rubbed in between Arne’s eyebrows with two fingers. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that. And you’re such a young beauty too, it would be a shame to throw that away prematurely.”

“Please,” Arne said softly, weakly. “Just let me go. I- I don’t have anything valuable, I’m not worth this sort of effort. Please, just let me go home.”

Ikalos moved his hand downward, so that he was cupping Arne’s cheek softly, rubbing circles with his thumb in what was presumably a comforting manner. “Oh, my dear, you are truly something valuable. You are most definitely worth this effort, and more. And now, my sweet free bird, that I’ve caught you, you won’t be going anywhere for quite some time.”

Shaking his head slightly, Arne shifted, futilely trying to put space in between them. “Why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Chuckling softly, Ikalos dropped his hand and took a step back. “Why?” he repeated, arching a brow. “Because I could. Because I wanted to. Because I was bored and you, oh, you just looked so… delectable, out there in the forest.”

Arne’s breath caught in his throat, and he desperately lashed out, shoving Ikalos away with all his strength before making a mad dash towards the balcony door.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was planning to do, once he got there. Maybe he could jump, if he wasn’t too high up. Anything was better than being trapped against the wall with that, that creature.

Behind him, Ikalos straightened, running a hand down the imperceptible wrinkles in his clothing. “Arne,” he called, voice shifting, “Arne, stop.”

Midstep, Arne’s body did as commanded and froze, leaving him stuck with one foot hanging in the air and both his hands stretched out wide to the side. All Arne could do was dart his eyes frantically around as his chest heaved.

Soft, smooth footsteps warned him of Ikalos’ approach, but he was utterly helpless, unable to move in even the slightest way.

As Ikalos stood in front of him, Arne could tell there was something different about him. Everything about him just seemed… sharper, somehow. Arne couldn’t really explain it. Most notably, though, was the way his golden irises seemed to be liquid, shifting and spilling over within itself. Arne highly suspected that if he were capable of movement right now, his legs would most likely give out from under him, pure fear soaking into his bones.

Ikalos clicked his tongue, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Tsk, tsk, Arne. I thought you were smarter than that. How stupid are you, that you thought you could outrun me?”

Arne felt tears swelling in his eyes, causing him to blink hastily, which only sent salty droplets dripping down his face. His tongue felt as though it had an anvil pressing down on it, rendering him mute.

Ikalos ran a light hand through Arne’s hair, in a mockery of comfort. “You really are just another stupid, pathetic human, aren’t you?” His grip turned cruel as he fisted a chunk of Arne’s hair, bending his head at a near-painful angle. “Aren’t you so fortunate to have someone as kind as me to take care of you? Aren’t you?”

Arne could only stare up into those otherworldly golden eyes, tears continuing to pour down his face.

Ikalos wrenched his head to the side. “Aren’t you?!” he repeated. “Thank me! Now!”

All of a sudden, Arne’s tongue felt as if it were light as a cloud, but before he could control it, his mouth was already moving. “Thank you, Ikalos, for taking care of me.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, lifeless and dull, no inflection in it.

Ikalos rolled his eyes in disgust before tossing Arne carelessly away from him, sending him tumbling into the corner, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him sprawled out on the floor, gasping heavily. “You may move again,” Ikalos said, almost bored, and with his words, Arne’s body came back under his control, and he curled up into the fetal position, staring up at the creature before him with loathing burning in his eyes.

Squatting before him, Ikalos chuckled, roughly petting his head, only frowning when Arne flinched away from him. “Pet, you are not allowed to move away from me.” He sighed. “I really ought to start training you right away, shouldn’t I?” He smiled down at Arne, who had frozen at the command, although this time, he could tell it was from his own will, not from the otherworldly compulsion Ikalos appeared to possess.

Swallowing, Arne looked up at him, relieved to see his eyes had returned to their normal appearance, no more swirling gold in them. “Please,” he begged, allowing all the desperation and fear he had to shine through. “Please, sir, good sir, just let me go. I will pay whatever ransom you desire. I will do whatever you request of me, just allow me to lea-”

His words were abruptly cut off as a painful slap sent his head cracking to the side, causing his neck to immediately begin to ache. A throbbing, burning pain flooded his cheek, slowly traveling to encompass his whole face. He gasped, reaching up one hand to cup his beet-red skin, eyes once again flooding with tears.As if nothing had happened, Ikalos resumed his methodical stroking of Arne’s hair. “Aw, pet,” he said condescendingly. “You’re mine now. There’s nothing that will cause me to let you go. You are mine.”

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