Chapter One
Shadow's & Flames
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Midnight had always been my favorite time of day. The bar was closed, the streets were quiet, and the world seemed to hold its breath. I locked the doors of “The Silver Moon” and stepped into the cool night air, pulling my jacket tighter around my slender frame as I started my walk home. My long snow-white hair fluttered in the breeze, and my purple eyes scanned the tranquil surroundings. Little did I know my life would be upended in the most terrifying way possible.
The path through the forest was quicker; I’d walked it a hundred times before without incident. But tonight felt different. The shadows seemed to dance menacingly, and every rustle of leaves set my nerves on edge. I brushed off the feeling, attributing it to the exhaustion of a long shift.
I was headed up in the blackened surroundings, with little supporting light from the moon above my head. I inhaled the icy air and stopped at the path that took me home. Through the darkened area, I went. However, I couldn't help but have a strange feeling. Sensation danced along my spine, an intuitive whisper that I wasn’t alone. With each step towards home, the empty path seemed to watch me, and the soft patter of my footsteps was echoed by another set, faint but unmistakably there. My heart quickened; the comforting weight of the keys in my hand now felt like the only tether to safety in the vast night ahead.
That’s when I heard a child’s voice, faint and desperate. “Help me…”
I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. The voice came from deeper within the forest. Against my better judgment, I stepped off the path and ventured towards the sound. “Hello? Is someone there?” I called out, my voice trembling.
The silence that followed was deafening. Then, without warning, the voice came again, closer this time. “Help me…”
I quickened my pace, the need to help overpowering my fear. But as I pushed through the underbrush, the air grew colder, and a sense of dread washed over me. I stopped, realizing too late that I had wandered far from the path. I tried to get a good look at where I was, trying to find any possible landmarks, but it was dark, with only the white moon shining above me. "Shit," I muttered to myself. "Dad always told me not to chase creepy voices," I growled to myself.
The silence felt like a heavy blanket pressing down on me, and I swallowed hard, trying to calm my racing heart. My breath was visible in the cold air as I strained to hear other sounds. Usually familiar and comforting, the forest now felt like an alien world.
"Hello?" I called out again, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is anyone there?"
The rustling of leaves answered me, making me jump. I took a tentative step forward, but my instincts screamed at me to turn back. Yet the voice, so innocent and desperate, tugged at my conscience.
"Help me…" The voice was more precise and closer now. It sounded like a young child, and the thought of someone so small and scared out here alone spurred me on.
I pushed through the thick underbrush, my fingers cold and numb. My long white hair got caught on a branch, and I had to stop to untangle it. "This is crazy," I muttered, but I kept going.
As a former hunter, I tried to pinpoint the noise. Father always told me to listen and try my best to follow any sounds of the animals that may be lurking. That's what I needed to do—granted, I was tracking a little girl, but it was the same... Right?
I tried to stay calm, but my fear levels spiked when I could hear the faint crying once more. I paused as I neared a strong scent on the ground. It was blood. With the unsettling feeling of being followed, I continued towards the voice that cried out for help. I had to—whatever kid was out here didn't need to be here. This was dangerous.
Barely being able to see, I had lost my step numerous times and fallen into the snow, but this last fall was awful. I had tumbled over a clutch of rocks, which forced me to slightly tumble down a hill and come to a stop at a tree, hitting my head on the bark—causing a little bit of bleeding. "Damn, this is getting worse."
I sat up, feeling the sting on my forehead and the cold seeping through my clothes. My hair was now matted with snow and dirt, and my purple eyes scanned the dark forest with heightened alertness. The crying had stopped, and the silence was unnerving. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. Dad always taught me to stay composed in dire situations, but this felt different.
I forced myself to stand, brushing off the snow as best as possible. My head throbbed, but I couldn't afford to stay still. I had to find that child. "Hello?" I called out again, my voice echoing through the trees. "I'm here to help you."
"Little Snow? Where are you going?"
I froze in complete and utter terror as the creepy voice whispered into the shadows, echoing over the winds that blew past me. I stared directly ahead, feeling every inch of my body tense. What lay ahead was somewhere I was familiar with—Abigail's Tree. I could hear the gentle waves. It wasn’t much further away, and that’s where the little screams for help came from. I tried to venture toward it, but my body would not move.
"Little Snow? Don’t be scared—I’m here to help you," the voice whispered, and I felt a chill behind me, much colder than the surrounding air. A cold grip tightened on my shoulders, forcing me to stand still. My heart pounded faster than I could imagine, my mind swirling with questions and concerns about what was happening.
I was terrified, and the icy hand that gripped my shoulder sent shivers down my spine. I couldn’t move my feet, but I knew something was there. With my free hand, I slowly slid it down my side to my jacket pocket and gripped the hand-made dagger my father had given me. This dagger meant a lot to me, and I swore to God that if this didn't do something, I might as well count my stars now. With a tight and determined grip, I ripped it out of my pocket and turned around, slashing at the figure behind me.
I swung the dagger with all my strength, its blade glinting in the moonlight. As it made contact, a guttural snarl erupted from the shadows. “Ah, what the hell? How did that hit me?! You bitch!” the voice snarled at me.
I opened my eyes. To my horror, there was no resistance, no physical form to meet my desperate strike. Yet, the air seemed to ripple with the force of my movement, and a chilling sight followed—blood began to drip from mid-air as if my action had wounded an invisible entity. The sight was so unnerving, so beyond the realm of my understanding, that it reignited the primal urge to flee.
Without waiting to see what would happen next, I turned on my heel. I sprinted towards Abigail’s Tree, the snow beneath my feet crunching loudly in the otherwise silent night. My heart pounded in my chest, a frenzied drumbeat urging me on while my mind raced to understand what had just occurred. Whatever was pursuing me, it was clear now that it wasn’t merely human. Perhaps I was just imagining things? No, I couldn’t be. The cold and the pain I felt in my legs were confirmed—the blood was real.
The cold air bit at my cheeks as I ran; each breath I took felt like a gulp of icy water. The snow slowed my pace, each step a monumental effort against the soft resistance. But fear lent me speed, propelling me forward with a desperation I had never known.
Reaching the base of Abigail’s Tree, I pressed myself against its broad trunk, gasping for breath, my eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of my pursuer. The silence was oppressive, the earlier screams and the eerie voice a haunting memory that left me shivering more from fear than from the cold.
The hollow was empty, though. “H-hello?” I panted. As I leaned against the sturdy trunk of Abigail’s Tree, trying to steady my breath and calm my heart’s racing, I noticed something unusual about the roots. In my previous visits, I had always admired the tree for its majestic presence, its roots sprawling across the ground like the fingers of a giant, holding the earth in a tender embrace. But now, under the cloak of night and the shadow of fear, they appeared different—more menacing, almost like claws reaching out from the ground, grasping for something unseen. This tree seemed just massive now.
“Little Snow, I can smell you,” I heard the voice creeping through the shadows.
“Snow?” Another eerie voice sounded.
“You can hear me?! Are you here to rescue me from the big scary-winged thing?” The small voice peeped.
I turned around, my gaze sweeping the shadowy expanse that stretched beyond the protective embrace of the tree’s roots. And that’s when I saw them—two bright blue eyes, shining like beacons at night. They hovered in the darkness, unattached to any form I could discern, their luminous gaze fixed intently upon me. I frowned and tried to creep closer—somehow, those eyes were more relaxing than whatever was following me.
The sight was both beautiful and terrifying. The eyes radiated a profound sadness, a depth of emotion that seemed almost palpable. Yet, there was also a glimmer of something else—hope, perhaps, or a plea for understanding. Time seemed to stand still then, and the world was reduced to the space between those eyes and myself.
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The voice sounded again, this time clearer, though still soft as a whisper carried on the wind. “Help me,” it said, the words simple yet meaningful. The eyes did not waver; their gaze locked on mine as if I held the key to their salvation alone. “He’s coming,” it whispered. “I don’t want to go there. Please don’t make me go there.”
“Go where?”
“I’m getting warmer,” the shady voice echoed. “I smell two delicious souls ready to be taken.”
Souls?
I shook my head, trying to stay focused, but I felt uneasy. The bang on the tree branch hurt my head, and I felt dizzy. However, this little thing happened a few feet before I asked for help. It didn't want to go with 'him.' I felt responsible—as I was the only one there to hear it. It needed to be protected, right? It was a better chance to fight off whatever he was.
"It's okay," I whispered to the little pair of glowing eyes, my dagger held closer to me.
"Please don't look at me," The gentle voice pleaded.
"Will that make you feel better? Can you tell me what you look like then?" I asked, trying to keep the quavering voice calm as I backed away, putting my hand behind me to ensure I didn't bump into it.
"I don't want you to see what the monster did to me," It whispered.
"It hurt you?" I questioned, my voice shaky.
> "One little soul, trapped in the night,
>
> Two little souls quiver in fright.
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> Three little souls lost in despair,
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> Four little souls, gasping for air.
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> Five little souls whisper my name,
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> Six little souls caught in the flame.
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> Seven little souls, twisted and torn,
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> Eight little souls, never reborn.
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> Nine little souls scream in the dark,
>
> Ten little souls left my mark."
The demon sang to us, with a laugh at the end. "I know where you've gone," It whispered into the wind.
My dagger was able to hit this thing once, but from what I could tell, it didn’t even have a body. It was just floating blood. A rush of cold air entered the tree, covering the roots with frost—it was so cold. My stomach twisted with fear, my palms sweaty, and I’m sure I looked like a hot mess. I came to a stop when I felt something behind me, a small but warm feeling from whoever was there.
"Shall we do this the easy way or the hard way, Little Snow?" It growled to me.
My entire surrounding atmosphere changed, and the air felt thick and heavy.
“My precious little souls, please come to me,” The voice begged us. “I don’t like to do too much damage to my prey,” The voice said, sounding it’s best to be desperate.
As I stood, held in the haunting gaze of the shadowy front, an oppressive weight began to settle over me. It was as if the shadows were thickening, becoming almost tangible in their density. This oppressive sensation was not merely physical; it carried a chilling, malevolent energy that seemed to seep into my very bones. The air around me grew colder, the night darker.
With the air feeling thicker, I swear I could feel my breath slow - almost as if there were no more air. The weight of the shadow’s magic was crushing, a suffocating blanket of darkness that threatened to snuff out the light within me. I struggled to breathe, each inhalation a battle against the invisible force that sought to claim me. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind, a frantic beat that matched the erratic pounding of my heart.
Beside me, the source of the blue eyes—a small, ethereal figure, barely visible against the backdrop of the night—was also ensnared by the demon’s magic. It was almost see-through, like a soul, pure and luminous, yet now trembling under the weight of the shadow’s malevolence. The little blue body of a child seemed to look at me, its eyes a silent plea for help, for salvation from the dark force that had hunted it to this sacred place.
The dual realization that this shadow creature, whatever it was, had not only pursued me but also this innocent soul and that we were both now caught in its grasp ignited a fierce determination within me. The shadow’s magic sought to suffocate us, to extinguish the light that remained. With every fiber of my being, I fought against the oppressive force, drawing upon reserves of strength. It was a fight for more than just my own survival. It was a fight for the little soul beside me and against the darkness that threatened to consume us both.
Drawing upon the last vestiges of my strength, I raised the dagger with a trembling hand. My aim was guided more by instinct than precision, a desperate bid to fend off the darkness that sought to consume us. With a cry that was part defiance, part plea, I hurled the dagger toward the menacing red eyes.
The effect was instantaneous. The shadow recoiled as if struck, its grip on me momentarily loosening. The oppressive weight that had threatened to crush me lifted, granting me a fleeting moment of respite. In that brief pause, the shadow’s voice, a sinister whisper that seemed to slither through the darkness, reached my ears. “You little bitch,” it hissed, a tone of amusement mingling with its malice. “You think to defy me with such feeble attempts? You know not the powers you meddle with.”
Before I could process the words, the world around me shifted violently. The brief moment of relief was shattered as the shadow’s magic surged with renewed ferocity. The ground beneath me seemed to vanish, and I was abruptly pulled from the protective embrace of the tree’s roots. My body was lifted into the air, drawn towards the tree’s center as if by some unseen force.
Then, there it was—a tangible manifestation of the shadow’s power. A hand, dark and ethereal, materialized around my neck. Its ironclad grip constricted my windpipe and lifted me higher off the ground. I gasped for air, my hands clawing futilely at the spectral fingers that encircled my throat. The red eyes bore into mine, gleaming with triumph and a hunger that knew no bounds.
I couldn’t help but feel the tears forming as I stared into those red eyes, but a smirk appeared on me instead. “I…. Bet….. You’re…. Ugly….” I spat, coughing up the courage to speak. Let me go down with some mean words if I was going down. Right?
With a quick second, I saw the red eyes flare with anger, and a face flickered in and out of the shadowy embrace. I couldn’t make much of it as I felt my body going cold and limp from the lack of airflow. I tried to reach out with one of my hands clenched into a fist, but there was nothing in front of me to strike. I was scared for myself and this little blue thing that was here with me. Hopefully, the little blue thing could get away with all this creature’s focus on me.
That’s when the creature’s teeth appeared in the shadows. Now, all I could barely see in the swaying and fogginess of my vision was the bright red eyes and sharp white teeth grinning at me. Its gaze locked with mine as he spoke. “I finally found you, and you’re finally mine,” it muttered, its eerie voice a chilling caress against my ear. The words, though spoken darkly, reverberated through the very marrow of my bones, a declaration of ownership that filled me with a dread so profound it threatened to snuff out the fragile flame of hope within me.
"I cannot wait to taste your delicate skin and soul; it'll be the best meal since I tasted the delicateness nearly 10 years ago," It whispered.
What did it mean? 10 years ago...? As the shadow’s proclamation echoed in the dark, the grip around my neck tightened momentarily before it released me. I fell, the ground rushing up to meet me, only to be caught by the same ethereal hand that had ensnared my throat. But this time, its touch was different—purposeful and precise.
The shadow’s form coalesced into something more tangible, its hand moving almost surgically. I felt a searing pain first on my side, then down my arm—a pain so intense that it felt as though my very soul was being branded. I cried out, not just from the physical torment but from the realization of what this pain signified. The pain eventually subsided, leaving behind a raw, burning sensation that seemed to pulse with the shadow’s malevolent energy. I dared not look at the marks, fearful of what seeing them might do to the last vestiges of my willpower. Yet, even as despair threatened to engulf me, the memory of the dagger’s effect on the shadow—a memory now seemingly distant—flickered within me, a reminder that this creature was not invincible.
The agony was overwhelming, drawing a guttural scream from the depths of my being. Though I yearned to call out for help, to plead with anyone who might hear me, my cries came silently, a desperate plea that echoed only within the confines of my own mind. The marks burned on my skin, a tangible reminder of the shadow’s claim, each pulse of pain a dark chorus that seemed to whisper, “You are mine.”
Struggling against the despair that threatened to consume me, I fought to maintain a semblance of hope, even as the shadow loomed larger, its presence a suffocating blanket over my essence. My silent pleas for help continued as a beacon of defiance against the overwhelming darkness in these darkest moments.
I felt dizzy at the moment, and I could hear squeals of fear from the blue creature behind me. My eyes felt heavy as they began to shut. My gaze focused past the red eyes and white grin on the little dagger behind him—the one that I threw at him. It was a glowing orange color.
The shadow hurled me through the air with a sudden, violent force. My body, already teetering on the brink of collapse, had no strength to resist. I crashed against a thicket of vines, the impact jarring every bone, every fiber of my being. Pain flared anew, a merciless tide that threatened to pull me under. The world spun, a dizzying whirl of shadows and light, until, at last, I lay sprawled on my back, breathless and broken.
Above me, the canopy of twisted tree roots formed a dark, impenetrable ceiling. Yet, amidst the oppressive gloom, something caught my eye—an orange glow, faint but unmistakable, reflecting off the roof of tree roots. It was not the light of the dagger this time but something far more ominous, more profound. The air seemed to thrum with power, the atmosphere charged with an anticipation I could neither understand nor escape.
“What the hell? Enoxon, did you open the damned portal?! How in the Nine Hells did you manage that?!” The voice, though brimming with anger, oddly brought a sense of comfort. For reasons unknown, its timbre soothed the chaos within me.
“You think I'm responsible? You were the one skimming your claws against the earth, nearly stumbling into the portal—Kurai, wait, something's happening here,” came a second voice, softer, tinged with worry.
“Do you think I give a shit about what’s happening? I don’t care what happens in the mortal world! The concern is your dumbass opening this portal!”
“Silence, Kurai, and direct your gaze properly,” the second voice retorted with a hint of sass.
Kurai? I questioned as the voices began to fade out.
Lying there, I watched as the glow before me grew, transforming into a magnificent vortex of incandescent flames. The earth quaked beneath me, the air turned blisteringly hot, and the vines that had broken my fall now recoiled, animated by the intense heat. A blend of admiration and fear took hold as I realized I was witnessing the opening of Hell's Portal, a doorway to the unknown.
From this fiery maelstrom emerged a figure, towering and majestic, outlined against the inferno, ensconced in flames that danced yet did not harm. Despite their imposing aura, confusion was writ large upon their visage. Their gaze swept across the shadowed underbrush, the lurking darkness, and finally settled on me—the unintended summoner, battered and sprawled.
“Oh shit, it’s a human - and a…. Soul? What the hell is happening?”
“What have you done?!” the shadow hissed in my direction, its voice quivering with disbelief and frustration. 'How— how?! Gah,” it grumbled.
In an instant, the shadow lunged towards a diminutive blue figure against the wall, only to be repelled by a blinding light that sent it recoiling. Our eyes met once more.
You're already marked, Snow. We shall meet again soon. And with that, enveloped in a cloud of smoke, the shadow vanished, the orange light faded, and darkness swallowed everything.