Rated M for graphic violence, sexual assault, and strong language. If you are uncomfortable with these topics, please do not read this story.
She stared at the treeline, hesitation coursing through her like a wildfire, but she refused to back down.
It will stop, she thought, it will all stop. You just have to go in. Step inside and it will stop.
Taking a deep breath, she shuffled her feet forward.
But maybe it will get better, another part of her argued. You can go to the police instead. They'll make you safe.
She paused. It was not wrong.
But what if it doesn't? a new voice asked. She did not recognize it, it was not her own. What if it doesn't stop? What if they think you're just some prying toddler? You're just begging for attention. To them, you mean nothing.
She bit her lip. The voice could be right.
You could go into the woods. I can help you.
Who are you? She did not say the words aloud.
I will help you, the voice said.
She stepped forward, unable to stop herself.
Good good, keep coming, very good.
She continued, reaching the edge of the trees.
Come along, now.
She took a shaky step forward, darkness consumed her. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling very, very cold.
The eerie light of Frostbite Forest made her pause, shadows looming intimidatingly before her. She briefly considered going back, but the thoughts were chased away by the voice.
Just a bit further.
She nodded, walking forward. The frosted-over leaves crunched below her, the chill becoming more and more noticeable the farther in she walked. She shivered, the forest cold despite the warm August air beyond the treeline.
Very good indeed. You are doing wonderfully, child.
She beamed at nothing, the praise bringing her pride.
"Can I see you?" she asked aloud.
I will come out now, the voice replied.
Glowing eyes watched her from the forest, but she did not shy away as the huge muzzle came into view, followed by the head, ears, and then the huge, teetering frame, similar to that of a dog's.
Its piercing gaze stared down at her, but she did not flinch. It was almost adorable, she thought. It crouched do to her level, huge fangs glistening in the minimal light.
Are you not afraid, child? it asked.
She shook her head.
How odd. You may be of more use than I originally anticipated.
She cocked her head. "Are you a boy or a girl?"
I can be whatever you want me to be.
She looked at the wolf-like creature, scowling. "Are you real?"
Do I look real?
"I don't know."
The wolf's gaze settled on her, she shivered.
"You said you could help me."
I can.
"How?"
She could feel it smirk. I can guide you. Tell me, child, have you ever injured anyone?
"I accidentally pushed a kid on the playground once."
The thing hummed. Perhaps... I can help you get your mother to stop hurting you.
"You can?"
I can, but I will need your help.
"How?"
The wolf opened its overly large muzzle, dropping something on the ground. A dagger lay on the ground, its black and purple patterned sheath giving off a dim shine. She stepped closer, picking the thing up. She took the cover off, marveling at its appearance.
The handle was a dark purple wood, either end of it lined with silver. The wood swirled with lights and darks, an abyss that one could get lost in if they stared too long. She glances at its blade, smooth and curving upwards slightly. She felt sorry for the person on the receiving end, but a thrill of excitement coursed through her.
Take this home, do not let anyone see it. I will come to you tonight.
She felt a pool of dread form in her stomach. "But what if mommy hits me again?"
Let her, she will regret it later.
She nodded.
~~~
That night, blood stained the silver blade, lifeless eyes stared out into the distance, through her as she stood in front of the body.
She was grinning, the full knowledge of what she'd just done not deterring the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Very good, the voice said. Do you have a name, child?
She looked at it, its broad muzzle puffing a breath of hot air into her face. She was not afraid. "Alabama," the child answered. "Alabama Whiskey."
Well, Alabama Whiskey, I look forward to when we meet again.
"Wait!" she cried, the wolf paused. "Who are you?"
The wolf was silent, then, in a surprisingly soft but firm voice, it replied, A friend.
Then it was gone.
YOU ARE READING
The Hound of Frostbite Forest
Terror"Murderers are not BORN, they are MADE" - unknown Alabama Whiskey has never known love, her father died when she was less than a year old, her mother has abused her for the other six years of her life, it's a hard...
