Rosalind - Beauty and the Beast meets Dracula retelling

11- Oblivion

Both butterfly and crow had distracted Rosalind from her thoughts of her family for a short while. Yet when shadows shifted over the land and morning turned to late afternoon the thoughts and the worry came back. 

Rosalind's gaze turned to the land outside her window. Snow was falling harder now. The flakes were as big as a child's open palm, falling to the ground heavily as though some giant was hurling them by the bucket load onto the whole of Transylvania.

Before her, the scenery flickered. The treeline and mountains faded then appeared as though someone was switching the sun off and on. Rosalind blinked twice swiftly, but when everything in her line of vision continued to spasm she lifted her hands to rub her eyes hard, but this only created tiny flashes of light in her sight. By now, every woodland creature had dashed off to find some shelter. Every butterfly, ever crow, every little thing that skittered or crawled.

Transylvania spasmed before Rosalind. The land turned from white to silver before it trembled in a million shades of grey. It was as though someone was trying to pull her into some sort of dream when a heavy sense of sleep came over the young Hershel woman. Rosalind pushed her forehead to the window, her lids giving in to gravity. Then darkness came.

Am I whom you dream of, Rosalind, as I roam in my halls of stone? I am made of flesh, made of bone yet I am no longer human. When shadows flicker before you and light turns to night do you feel me? I am there, worming my way into the marrow of you. I will not stop until I have consumed you.

In the Borgo pass, the three Hershel men rode quickly, chasing a group of cottontail rabbits. Jacob and Julian, upon their brown mares, rode on the heel of their father's white stallion. Wind whipped through the men's dark hair, frost-kissed their noses but they did not fret about the cold.

The Hershels had already caught a few squirrels for a stew, a young fox in which to make a new hat for Julian, and two owls with black and white speckled feathers. Jacob carried the smaller animals in his leather satchel while the fox had been tied up on the back of Harlan Hershel's saddle. The late afternoon began to turn dark swiftly as though the shadows belonging to the Borgo had a mind of their own and desired to shield the place from stray rays of sunlight. Julian cast a look away from his father and brother, noticed the way day had unnaturally slipped away. But Rosalind's eldest brother hastily returned his attention back to the rabbits, for the men's hunt should have already come to an end. They had promised themselves they would not go back home without having caught a few tasty rabbits and even though the men were tired, they dared not head for home without the critters they had come all this way for.

Before them, seven rabbits ran into oblivion. Fury feet were agile and quick in the snow. Their brown and grey fur made it easy for the men to spot them. Had they been pure white cottontails, the rabbits would have easily escaped the Hershel men in the snow.

Black, unblinking eyes focused ahead. The rabbits knew that danger was upon them. Escaping a predator was nothing new, but their little hearts always beat with such terrible fright whenever they were pursued.

Jacob raised his sword and it came down upon one of the cottontails, slicing its furry head clear off. 'Father! I killed one!' the young man called to Harlan as he brought his mare to a stop. Jacob slid off his horse with ease, collecting the rabbit out of the snow. Blood dripped heavily over the animal and matted the rabbit's fur when once it shone beautifully, it now looked pitiful. Jacob smiled triumphantly. He had never butchered a rabbit before. This had been his first cottontail kill.

The small creature was placed carefully in Jacob's leather satchel before Jacob reached for his rag and cleaned the blood off his hands. He did not bother with his sword, believing he would soon be killing another creature.

"I too, killed one, Father!" Julian's deep voice carried through the Borgo with pride. When Jacob looked towards his brother, he saw Julian holding up a very large, very fat cottontail by the ears. The animal's long legs dangled ungracefully. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth. Jacob saw the tiny whites of the rabbit's rodent teeth.

Blood dribbled down the cottontail's chin, over Julian's hand till it dotted the snow. "A couple more will suffice."

"A pretty one for our dear sister," called Jacob from a few feet away as huge snowflakes began to fall. The boy reached out and furrowed his brows as one the size of the rabbit's head fell upon his open palm. This had to be the largest flake he had ever seen.

"Lads," from over a snowy hill, Harlan Hershel called, "I believe I found something else your sister will prefer over dead and bloodied rabbits. Come. Make haste and see what I have found."

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