Fear The Fire

Chapter 7: Fearing The Old Castle

Erika's mind was telling her to run for her life, but her body was incapable of adhering, paralyzed with fear. That dreadful noise was enough to cause the blood of the bravest hunter to turn cold, let alone a helpless cowardly teenager like her. Her eyes were staring through the door, attempting to locate the source of the outside commotion, villagers scattering around like moths, within the limitations of the door frame. But Nevane wasn't sticking around; she knew if she and Erika didn't move fast, it was only a matter of time before they found them.

"Move," Nevane shouted imperiously, startling Erika from her panic-induced paralysis. The girl followed orders without thinking twice, bolting from the small cabin behind her hostess. Outside, the sun had sunken low over the misty horizon. Dusk was etching over the sky at a rapid pace; soon eyesight would be impaired and Erika's odds of escaping the intruders lessened.

Speaking of them, she had finally visualized a member of the pack. It was a wolf-like specimen, with matted grey fur and narrow red eyes and claws that looked like they could slice your head open. But it was 5 times the size of a regular wolf. . . Erika couldn't help glancing at the glass statue in the center of the village, they were identical. Before she could inquire whether this was a coincidence, she noticed the dozens of other menacing wolves charging through the gates. If this was what the tall fence and all the guards were for protecting against, they weren't very effective.

Day had morphed to dusk alarmingly fast, and light continued fading by the second. Erika already had to squint to see where she was going, but she was now surrounded by a crowd of panicked, fear-stricken villagers. They were screaming for their children, attempting to fend off the wolves and. . . simply blending into the night, one second there, one second gone. Erika ran, but she didn't know where she was going. She had lost Nevane in the commotion and was now simply terrified. It seemed as though everyone around her was. . . disappearing. The crowd of horrified villagers was somehow thinning, evaporating before her eyes, but Erika couldn't even tell where or how they were evading.

She hadn't the time to think. The blood drained from her cheeks as she heard a malevolent growl right behind her and, as if something had launched her, started forward like a lightning bolt. She was so afraid and lost and her mind was working so fast to get her out of there that she barely registered it. Just a few feet ahead, on the dry, crispy earth, a mud puddle had appeared. It went against all logic and reason, but she sprinted right for it. The memory of the previous night, The Well and the sound of the water banging against the plastic encasement of the bottles and the howl and the fear, it all hurdled down on her like rain.

Somehow, she knew she had to do it. She just knew. Erika picked up speed, forcing her legs to move even faster as she launched for the muddy surface, not daring for a second to glance back at her pursuer. She closed her eyes and mouthed a prayer, though she wasn't religious, hoping her idea would work. Her legs catapulted her through the air and she flew a foot or so, before rapidly enclosing the space between her and the puddle before her. Her arms shot forward instinctively and she braced herself for the impact and, in case she was wrong, for the dreadful encounter with whatever was hot on her tail.

Erika screamed as she opened her eyes.

For a brief moment, she could not feel nor move her limbs, only stare up at the blue canvas overhead. But she was quick to sigh in relief. She was not back home, and overhead was not sky.

"Finally, you're up," Erika heard a familiar, calm voice utter, but she could detect the pinch of impatience. Regaining control of her body, she propped herself onto her elbows.

"Where am I?" Erika asked as she struggled to process the overwhelmingly unfamiliar stream of visual information. Her head was throbbing.

"That really is your favorite question, isn't it sweetheart?" Nevane folded her arms over her chest. She sat, cross-legged on the edge of a queen sized bed, facing Erika.

The both of them were in a very spacious room, the ceiling of which was so high up and so deeply blue one would easily mistake it for the mid-afternoon sky. The walls were finely painted scarlet, with careful little details sealed into the paint in patterns. They were lined with unlit torches. The floor was carpeted, it was soft and warm. And the furniture was carved carefully from the finest wood, enveloped in the most beautiful crimson drapes. Details were no stranger to the enterior. This was not the work of a minimalist, but of a baroque architect!

"Well," Erika rose into a standing position, proceeding to dust herself off, "Not all of us were born with all the knowledge in the world."

She swore she saw Nevane smirk, "You're in The Old Castle."

"That explains everything."

"Really?"

"For such an 'insightful being', Nevane, you surely are a stranger to sarcasm."

The Tix blinked, "I'm not accustomed to the cultural constructions of other universes like yours, I merely operate with beings that come from them."

Erika was ready to fire a bout of questions at the "universes like yours" section of Nevane's retort, but she was too busy thinking about the conversation they just had. They sounded like two best friends having a playful argument. . . and suddenly Erika felt very nostalgic. Nevane had caught this and continued, off-topic, "As I was saying, you are in
The Castle. Care for a tour?"

Erika rolled her eyes, "Do I even have a choice with your tours?"

Nevane led the way into a narrow hallway, its walls bright scarlet, lined with the same, unlit torches. The hallway stretched out into longer hallways, more spacious hallways, wider hallways. . . you get the idea. Each of them displayed doors upon doors of rooms Nevane claimed were just like the ones they emerged from. Why bother with a tour then?

"How did we get here?" Erika asked, noting that, once again, the place had no windows. What did these people have against windows?

"Did you fall into a mud puddle?" was all Nevane said, as if this question was the answer to all further questions.. Erika blinked. Was this supposed to explain how she got into The Castle or how she got into this world. . . or both?

They could now hear a faint chatter echoing through the walls. It was sharpening, getting louder and clearer. Until, finally, Erika found herself in a room ten times the size of the one she woke up in. It was furnished with fancy dining tables and they were all occupied by villagers. In the heart of the room stood a middle-aged, tall blonde man, the source of the noise, next to whom Erika recognized as Nixon.

"-could still be unconscious, we just have to file into organized groups-" he was saying. Suddenly, he cut himself off and stared dead at Erika. "You. YOU."

"Manic-" Nevane attempted to calm him, but the mayor was red with fury, "IT WAS YOU, WASN'T IT?!"

"Manic, I assure you there is no need for-"

"STOP PLAYING YOUR MIND TRICKS, TIX," Manic was so uncontrollably furious, his son had to step in to calm him down.

"Let's hear them out first father," Nixon said and stared back at Erika, "Mom's not here yet and he thinks you've stolen her portal. But that can't be true, right Nevane?"

Erika wanted to ask to confirm her suspicions, but one look at Nevane's expression and she understood everything. The mud puddle was some sort of portal, it transported her to The Castle. That must've been how the villagers had escaped the attack and how they were disappearing before her eyes. But if Erika got to the last portal before Aura did, then-

Erika thought back to the foul, fear-sticking face of that monstrosity she'd almost come face to face with during the attack and she shuddered. Aura didn't stand a chance.