Arthur stumbled to his knees, the inferno before him a stark reminder of what he'd lost. The flames danced, consuming everything he'd ever known. The roar of the fire was deafening, and the heat radiated against his skin. His mind reeled with questions: What had they done wrong? Why did this happen?. His blood boiled, his head throbbed, his skin felt prickly, and his vision blurred as he blacked out, only to regain consciousness repeatedly.
As he regained consciousness, the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. "This can't be happening," he muttered, hoping it was just a nightmare.
The voices of his family echoed in his head, their laughter and whispers haunting him. He forced himself up, his legs trembling beneath him. The smoke carried a nauseating sweetness—burnt sugar from Kayla's forgotten candies mingling with the metallic tang of blood. He staggered toward the house, boots crunching over snow stained ash-gray, each step heavier than the last as he stumbled towards the house.
The structure still stood, but he knew it wouldn't last long. The windows were shattered, and the doors were charred. He kicked down the door, the wood splintering beneath his foot. Smoke billowed out, thick and suffocating. He tied his scarf over his mouth, but it did nothing to blunt the stench—charred meat, melted wax, death.
"Mom!" He screamed "Alice! "Please, answer me!", his voice hoarse and raw. The silence was oppressive, punctuated only by the crackling of flames. He moved cautiously, navigating through the burning house.
As he turned a corner, he spotted two small figures near the hearth, their small bodies curled together like kittens. Flames licked at Harley's overalls, the fabric curling to ash, revealing blistered skin beneath. Kayla's braids were gone, her scalp blackened, one tiny hand clutching her brother's sleeve. "Harley!! Kayla!" Tears streamed down his face as he stood frozen, shock washing over him. The sound of crackling flames and the creaking of burning wood filled the air.
Arthur's legs gave out. He collapsed, retching, bile scalding his throat. The prickling under his skin surged, hot and cold at once. This isn't real. This isn't—
He forced himself to look away, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of survivors.
A whimper.
His eyes darted around to pinpoint where the sound came from—Alice,
She lay slumped against the far wall, untouched by the flames. They skirted her body, as if repelled. Her right arm was gone, the stump a ruin of bone and seared flesh. Blood pooled beneath her, too dark, too still . He felt a wave of nausea wash over him as he crawled to her side.
To his surprise, she had a pulse!
Frantically, he took off his coat, using it to wrap around her to stop the bleeding. He held her close, feeling her fragile body trembling in his grasp.
"Stay with me," he pleaded. His fingers brushing against her cheek as he felt her skin—it was cold.
Her chest barely rose and was unconscious, but she was alive. He had to get her out of here—she needed treatment.
As he stood up to leave, carrying her, he spotted a small movement out of the corner of his eye. A purposeful shift, covered by rubble and debris from the house. Without hesitation, he rushed forward, placing Alice carefully at his side before clawing at the debris, splinters embedding themselves in his palms.
"Mother? You're alive," Arthur exclaimed, relief washing over him. "J-Just wait a minute—I'll get you out of here," he stuttered as he continued, moving more rubble out of the way.
Edna's eyes locked onto his, her gaze filled with a mix of sadness and acceptance. "Stop, Arthur," she whispered, her voice weak but firm. "There's no hope for me."
Arthur's eyes welled up with tears as he held her hand, his grip tightening. "Please don't say that, Mother. I'll save you, just as you did for me," he urged, tears flowing down his cheeks as he shook his head, tears blurring his vision. "I'm not leaving you—"
Edna's gaze never wavered, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. She knew she was slipping away, her vision blurring. She stared at her son, feeling grateful she had sent him out. At least he would survive.
"Arthur," she spoke again, her voice barely audible. She knew she was running out of time, but she had to tell him. She could sense IT taking form inside his heart. He couldn't escape. He was doomed to walk a treacherous road. Her heart hurt, imagining what he would have to go through. She'd do anything she could to help him. That was her job as his mother.
"Arthur, my son."
"Y-Yes, Mother…" he spoke up, his grip on her hand tightening.
A smile spread across her face. She had to stay strong for him. "I'm going to die soon."
The words hung in the air. Tears flowed freely from Arthur's eyes, but he listened as she continued speaking.
"This world… there are things that… that aren't meant to be. I did my best to escape that life, that world, but I couldn't. And I foolishly dragged you all into it."
She paused, looking around one more time as she swallowed, forcing herself to hold back her tears.
"I truly am sorry, my child. But I have no regrets."
"Mother—" Arthur tried to interrupt, but she stopped him.
"No, let me finish. I know I don't have much time. I want you to wait until I die…" She stammered as she spoke, but she kept going.
"Something—an essence of sorts—will form from my body. I want you to take it, go to a safe place, and ingest it."
"W-What? What are you talking about, Mother?" Arthur let go of her hands as he stared at her, confused and utterly shaken by what she had said. He searched her face for answers, but she remained firm, ignoring his response as she continued.
"Arthur, when you take the essence from me, go to the shed. There's a box I keep hidden, buried under the table where we store our traps. Open it, take the compass, and follow it. You'll get help."
"Wait, wait—Mother, what are you talking about?" Confusion had taken hold of him as he stared at the woman before him.
"Please, Arthur," Edna's voice was low and weak. She was at her last breaths. She couldn't stave off the inevitable anymore.
Reaching out, she held onto his hand, gripping it with the last strength she could muster.
"I'm really glad I got to meet you… all of you."
Tears finally flowed from her eyes as she no longer held them back, blood bubbling at her lips,
"Please… take care of yourself, Arthur."
Arthur felt her grip slip as her eyes closed. He could only watch in horror as her life seeped away. Even then, she had a smile on her face.
Arthur's scream tore through the flames. He clutched her, sobs wracking his body, the prickling under his skin erupted into agony.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched, knowing he couldn't do anything to save her. His grip tightened on her hands.
"No! No, no, no, no!" Arthur screamed, snot and spit flying from his face as he scrambled to hold her lifeless body.
"Please, no," his screams faded as his body slumped, his eyes fixed on her corpse.
"Please… don't leave me too," he muttered, his head falling onto her hands as he wept bitterly.
The flames flickered and crackled, but he paid no heed to them. Rubble from the house crumbled, but he gave it no attention. He remained motionless, despair washing over him.
The thought of staying to join his family crossed his mind. The pain was too much—he didn't want to live like this. But he couldn't die peacefully, knowing the people who did this to them would go scot-free. That would be an insult to his family. He had to get revenge on those who wronged them. Only then would he be able to join them.
"Huh—"
His head shot up from its position as he felt her hand twitch.
"What the—"
Veins began protruding, bulging from every part of her body as her body contorted, shaking violently and paling unnaturally. Her bones creaked, and her skin stretched out. The sounds were haunting as it happened.
Arthur scrambled away from her, horrified by what was happening, but he couldn't peel his eyes away.
The veins darkened into a deep black hue as they traversed across her body, gathering into her heart.
The creaking sounds stopped, and her body finally relaxed. Arthur, still on edge, kept his guard up as he watched, confusion evident on his face. He did not shy away from the events unfolding before him.
He steeled himself and was about to take a step forward when a loud, hollow screech resounded from Edna's mouth.
The sound was haunting, like nails scratching a blackboard.
"Argh!" Arthur covered his ears as the hollow cry continued. The sound felt like it was sent directly into his brain, making him grunt.
Blood leaked from his ears and mouth, but he kept his gaze on his mother's body. He didn't want to miss anything.
The screams finally stopped as the shadows in her heart began rotating, forming a void that sucked in the air around it. The flames suddenly weakened, the cold winds dissipated, and the world seemed to slow as the blackness gathered, taking shape.
Arthur stared dumbfounded, clenching his chest. His heart pounded, but instead of fear, he felt excitement. His body anticipated what was to come.
His breathing stopped as his attention focused solely on the phenomenon before him.
The process continued for what felt like forever before it stopped. The blackness crystallized, levitating from her body and leaving a hole in her chest before falling to the ground.
Arthur stared at the object. He remembered what his mother had told him, so he knew it wouldn't hurt him.
Swallowing the saliva that had gathered in his mouth, he crawled toward it, his hands trembling.
It was as small as a baby's palm and weighed nearly nothing. It felt soft yet brittle, cold to the touch, but yet alive.
The moment his fingers closed around it, cold seared his palm. The prickling spread, racing around his body like venom. His vision blurred, and his body felt heavy . Yet beneath the pain, he felt a pull—deep within himself, it was comforting as if the shard whispered,"Mine".
"Just what the hell is going on?" Arthur couldn't help but question what he had just witnessed as sweat dripped from his face.
His gaze left the object, landing on his mother's corpse one more time.
Her body was now absurdly thin, as if it could be crushed easily by a child. It was as though her very being had been sucked out of her. Whatever this thing in his hands was, it was important—and dangerous.
He stood up, keeping the object in his pocket. The flames, which had nearly died out, began to regain momentum once more.
His body felt heavy, and he felt lightheaded, but he knew he had to keep going.
Picking up Alice, he walked toward the door, leaving the house for the last time.
He went straight to the shed as he had been instructed. Just as she'd said, there it was—a box he had never seen before.
He dusted the sand off, its rusty hinges creaking as he opened it.
Inside was a compass pendant, it's needle remained fixed in a single direction.
Arthur started at them, the shard burning in his pocket. The prickling sensation had died down into a constant buzz and his blood cooled.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself as took the compass, wearing it around his neck. He needed to find shelter—to avoid the night.
It was almost midnight.
He returned for Alice, lifting her as gently as his trembling arms allowed. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her breath a fragile thread.
He stared at the house once more, solemnly, as it burned. His teeth ground together as he blinked back tears.
"Mother, Harley, Kayla… I swear, I will find who did this to you. And I promise—they will f***ing pay." With that vow, he bowed his head, paying his respects, and walked into the night, unaware of the dangers lurking.
The cool night air blew peacefully as the flames died down, the house it had feasted on now reduced to rubble and ash.
Leaves rustled
A lone figure appeared from the darkness, crouching, it's nostrils flaring.
Sniff. Sniff.
"He he...." Its laugh amusing as it stared into the horizon, " my nose never lies."