Bits and Pieces (My Book of Short Stories)

Skeleton Heart

The night was silent. The crescent moon shone down on the tops of the trees, getting steadily brighter in the star-strewn sky as the light of the sun faded. The fiery orange seemed to melt into the horizon like cooling lava. It was truly a sight to see, the sky cloudless and the stars shining proudly, unhindered by man-made lights. But there was no one in sight to document the beauty of the sunset. This place was quiet and void of human life, if only for the night. Only the creatures of the night rustled through the trees and bushes, not even pausing to observe the beauty of twilight.

The peace was shattered by a sudden noise, quick and heavy like stones being pounded into the ground. Large hooves flattened the uneven ground, stumbling clumsily over roots and dips in the ground. A heart-stopping whinny of terror split the night as the horse emerged into a small clearing. The trees all around the creature rustled ominously as low growls surrounded it. Gleaming yellow eyes reflected the moon's faint light as the pack of wolves closed in. The horse leapt up, kicking and emitting the same piercing squeal as the pack circled nearer. Moving as one, they paced closer and closer, surrounding the poor creature. Baring its teeth, one pounced, baring its sharp teeth and sinking them into the horse's leg. It gave another squeal, even louder than the ones before, and caught the beast with a hoof. It went flying backwards into a tree and lay limp on the ground. But the rest of them started to bring their prey down. As the wounds on its back and legs grew worse, blood running freely from bite marks and gashes on its legs, it sank to the ground as the wolves closed in around their catch.

Erin stared down at the bones lying lifelessly in the mud, the scene playing out behind his pale blue eyes. He blinked back to the present before kneeling in the damp mud to look at the skeleton. It had obviously been a while since the horse had died. The bones were totally bare, picked clean by birds and maggots until nothing was left. He knew dramatic battle scenes like this one played out all the time this deep into the forest. But surprisingly, he hardly ever stumbled across the carnage left behind by the predators. Or if he did it was in pieces. The skeleton might be splintered beyond recognition, or it might still be in the process of rotting away. This corpse was surprisingly clean though. A few scratches were visible on the legs and ribs, and it was half buried in mud, but other than that it was perfect. Most other people would have stayed away from the pile of bones, probably worried by the obvious presence of wolves in the area. But not him.

"That's a nice specimen." A voice sounded briskly behind him and he looked over his shoulder. His father, Dylan, bent down beside him. He carefully pulled the skull free of the mud and stared at it intently. He had short black hair like Erin's, and light brown eyes. Right now his hair was sticking up oddly here and there like he had been electrocuted. The horse's skull parted company with the spine as easily as a dead leaf pulled from a tree. "Do you know what it is?" He turned the skull around to face the boy so that he could study it more easily. "Horse." He answered, pretty confident that he was correct. Horses had very different skull structure than deer. It was probably from one of the many farms in the general area. His father nodded, beaming enthusiastically. "Right! This one's in excellent condition at that." He spoke with a matter-of-fact tone, like a doctor studying a patient. Erin's father was what he called a "skeletologist". He liked to study skeletons and bones in his free time. Any kinds - dinosaur bones, animal bones, human bones, no skeleton was safe. Of course Erin knew his dad would never dream of killing anything or anyone just to study its bones. He was as mild as a glass of water almost all of the time. He liked animals and would never kill any of the various creatures that lived in the woods alongside them. Not even the family of possums who made their home in the back of the shed one summer. Even though Annalise, Erin's mother, shrieked and scolded him for letting the little creatures stay there for a while before chasing them away.

This whole strange hobby was not normal for most, but Erin's father had another reason for studying the deceased. No, the Owens family were not sociopaths. No matter what anyone else thought or said. But they were different from their distant neighbors. The Owens had magic in their blood. Or at least Erin and his father did. His mother had no magical power but she had grown to understand it and accept it. She didn't like some aspects of it, namely the interest in corpses which she thought of as "unhealthy". But she was caring and Erin knew that she had their best interests at heart.