House Of Wolves (Creepypasta Fanfic)

Chapter 1: History

Bathory

I had to have been eight.

It was midsummer, the park was thriving with life and activity; I sat on a hill and overlooked the tiny valley below me, the wind catching in my hair and brushing across my skin. My mom never let me cut it, it was too beautiful, she said. It just caught in my lips and got everywhere.

People didn't like me. Right from the start there was this strange aversion, like I was an oddity among the common people around me. They were right in a way: my eyes were as dark as night, so dark that they looked like an empty, starless night. A girl shouldn't have eyes that dark, it's not pretty, it's fear inducing. Match that with platinum hair and I looked fresh out of a horror movie as the next hell-spawn. I was too young then to understand why they hated me but I just knew that they did. They didn't make it subtle.

"Hey Batty!"

I turned my head, glancing behind me as a group of kids started to approach. I didn't know them but I guess we went to the same school, sat across tables at lunch time. They poked me and prodded me, painfully; I cried and cried but no matter how much I protested they still berated me relentlessly.

"Batty, Batty, how can you even see?!" A girl screeched at me, "you look like you're supposed to be dead!"

"I'm not dead! Leave me alone!" I sobbed, trying to push through the group that had gathered around me. After tugging on my hair and grabbing my neck to check for a pulse they finally scattered, leaving me crying on the hilltop as I tried to recompose myself.

Suddenly I wasn't alone, but there was a girl sitting beside me. She looked just like me, with long hair and chubby cheeks. I could always rely on her when I needed her, but she really could never get away with looking like the rest of us. After all, she was dark like ash and had eyes as red as blood. They didn't glow, but they weren't exactly pleasant either. She wrapped her arm around me and I leaned into her, my sobs falling away to tiny hiccups as she comforted me.

Now, the girl wasn't what was new; she'd always been there, from the day I was born I'm sure. She was a shadow that walked beside me, mimicking my movements on the ground but rising when I needed her most. What distracted her was someone in the woods, not far off from me. I followed her gaze to see him standing there, taller than my dad and dressed in a black suit. I couldn't see his face but I was sure it was because I'd been crying. The girl though, she tentatively raised her hand, waving at him; I watched in surprise as he waved back. No one could see her before.

That's what scared me. I took off down the hill to find my mom and made her take me home after begging and pleading about 'the tall man in the woods'. She obliged no problem and soon enough I was buckled up in the car, staring out the window and wishing I could be normal.

Fast forward five years. I was in eighth grade and we'd moved twice since we'd lived in that town. My parents, they were weird ones; our house was always filled with old books and candles, the scent of cinnamon and sage a welcome perfume. There were days though where my parents would lock themselves away and tell me that I wasn't to disturb them. What they were doing I still could only guess at by this point but there was this inkling, creeping feeling that it wasn't exactly normal. Nothing about my life was.

I'd been here long enough to gain a following: girls in designer coats and expensive makeup liked to laugh at my thrifted finds and ratty shoes, making fun of my drawings and even going as far as destroying a painting for art class. There was this one girl, Sabine, she always had it out for me. I'd been cornered in the bathroom before and had a hand clamped over my mouth while she punched me in the gut. Her eyes were ugly, a nasty, rancid green like bile that complimented her dyed blonde hair. I hated her guts.