Eight-Pointed Star (CH2) (Patreon)

“You-… you…” Lily stuttered. She pointed a trembling finger at the man.

Her husband finished for her, stepping between his wife and the late-night visitor. “You’re not welcome. Leave.” His tone was one of forced calm.

From his position in the hallway, Eli saw the man ignore his father. His green eyes were fixed on Lily.

“Did you think I’d let you disappear? You stole something from me. It doesn’t matter where you run, I will always, always find you.”

Her throat bobbed up and down. “Something?” She asked, choking out the word.

The man’s lips twitched. “Our child. My child. I won’t let you keep them from me.” He suddenly surged forward, shoving William out of the way like he weighed nothing. His hand seized Lily’s wrist. “Come back with me. Even after everything, I would still have you. You and your children. You won’t want for anything again.”

Lily tried to yank her arm away. However, his grip was like an iron shackle. “No! I won’t let them go through that! They deserve a normal life.”

Standing frozen in the hallway, Eli could only watch as his father recovered, grabbing a fistful of the man’s cloak, brandishing the knife in his other hand. He wanted to help, but at the same time, he was a literal four-year-old child. He was far more likely to get in everyone’s way.

Lily’s head whirled in his direction. “Elias, get your sisters. Go through the window-…!”

She was still talking when the man raised his head, uncaring of the knife at his throat. His glowing green eyes, slitted like a cat’s, locked with Eli’s own. “Don’t move.” He said, his words heavy as an anvil.

Eli suddenly found he could barely breathe. His limbs were like lead, and his tongue lay thickly in his mouth.

“Let him go!” Lily yelled. She tried to fling herself at the man, but William didn’t let her, shoving her toward the couch. With his wife out of the way, he slashed, his patience clearly at an end.

The stranger wasn’t perturbed in the least. He shifted gracefully, letting the weapon sail past him, not losing a single hair. At the same time, his arm struck out, his gauntleted fist flashing. It smashed into William’s nose.

Before Eli even knew what happened, a medium-length sword appeared in the man’s other hand. It shifted like quicksilver, closing the gap he’d just made. The tip blurred.

His father reacted, raising one arm toward his bleeding face. At the same time, he maneuvered the knife desperately.

He was too slow.

The gleaming sword appeared on the other side in an instant, a third of its flawless blade stained red. The stranger lowered it, looking at William—now kneeling on the ground. “You dare strike me? Your end is deserved.”

“No!”

Her voice tainted with anguish, Lily embraced her husband, her arms protectively around his broad shoulders. William had one hand on his throat, trying to stem the flow of blood, spurting from his neck. She pulled and pushed at him, clearly wanting to do something—anything—to stop the bleeding. There was just no way. The cut was too deep.

William’s face grew paler by the second, his bright eyes losing their luster. He looked at his wife. Then his son. He couldn’t speak, but his expression said it all.

Be safe.

Eyelids drooping, he soon lost consciousness. The life drained out of him, together with the last of his blood.

There was a horrible stillness in their small house. Eli was in shock. He wasn’t sad, nor was he angry. He felt nothing. He just couldn’t process it.

That wasn’t the case for Lily. She screamed, her dead husband’s knife now in her hand. She lunged at the man.

Eli wanted to tell her to stop. To run away. To save herself. But he couldn’t speak. He could barely twitch his fingers.

Her knife was touching the stranger’s chest, tendons standing starkly on Lily’s hand as she strained futilely.

The man let go of his sword’s handle as if it were a red-hot iron. His arms moved, cradling Lily before her legs could give out. He held her there motionlessly, the length of his own blade sticking out of her back. Crimson ran along it, dripping onto the floor. The pitter-patter of droplets was unbearably loud.

“Just...” She whispered, choking weakly. “…don’t hurt my children.”

The stranger’s lips moved, stuttering. Her request seemed to cause him great pain, as if he were the one with a sword through the heart. “I-... I didn't mean to-… I wouldn’t-… never…”

Eli’s thoughts and feelings were running wild. It was like the moment after a car-crash, laying on the tarmac, concussed and hemorrhaging. He didn’t even know if he was conscious, or if this was another one of his nightmares. Not five minutes ago, he’d been chatting happily with his parents. Now, the wooden floorboards were soaked with their blood.

It was a long while before the stranger laid her on the couch. All life had gone out of her.

Removing one of his gauntlets, revealing a tawny, elegant hand, he touched her face tenderly. He closed her eyes.

He lingered for a moment before rising. His expression was stony, but his breathing was uneven.

Why?

That one word churned in Eli’s head, repeating over and over. But he had no answer. It didn’t make any sense. None of it did.

The man looked at Eli, walking toward him. His cloak shifted, revealing plates of silvery armour underneath. It barely made any noise. Nearing him, the man’s steps slowed. It seemed as if he was going to stop, but then he slipped past, his green cloak brushing against Eli’s face.

He found he could move again. So he did, turning his head. His sisters were behind him, clinging on to each other. Their eyes were so wide. Their pale faces streaked with tears. They didn’t look like they were alive.

The stranger loomed over them. He reached with his bare hand. Towards one person in particular. Beatrice.

Before his fingers could brush her cheek, she screamed, recoiling toward the stone wall with enough force to crack her own head open.

The man grabbed her arm in a flash, all but yanking her off her feet. She slammed against him, hissing, biting and kicking, all but eviscerating herself on the sharp edges his armour.

“Foolish girl, keep hold of your senses!” He yelled, his voice carrying an air of helplessness. “You are my kin. My blood. I am your father, and you are my daughter!”

The words swept through Eli’s disarrayed mind like a hurricane. The man’s earlier words—his mother hadn’t denied them. Lily was blonde, but Bee’s hair was even lighter. Her green eyes like vibrant spring grass—she didn’t get them from William, or her.

He looked at the man again. Closer this time. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his figure graceful. But more unusual was his skin—almost gold, with an undertone of green. He wasn’t human.

A wave of dizziness washed over him. He swayed on his feet, taking a step to steady himself and missing. Losing his balance, he fell, landing hard on his butt.

The sudden movement caused Beatrice to still. “Eli!” She yelled, her eyes darting frantically between him and her… father. “No. No, I don’t want this! I hate it! Give them back-…!” Whatever clarity she’d gained didn’t seem to last long—not when her gaze swept the two still, bloodstained corpses in the living room.

The man’s jaw clenched. His grip remained firm, stopping her from injuring herself further. “I am… taking you. I give you no choice. This is not your world. You will return to where you belong.” His words didn’t accomplish much. The girl was beyond reasoning with, or even talking to.

Holding her so she could barely budge, the stranger turned his alien-looking eyes to the other girls, then Eli. “Come.” He said, his tone authoritative. However, it held none of that supernatural compulsion, not like before. “Set aside your feelings for one moment. The youngest among you hasn’t yet seen five summers. You have nowhere to go. You will not survive on your own.”

Eli looked at the twins. At Beatrice. They weren’t in any state to be evaluating the situation. As for himself, well… he wasn’t doing great either, but he was the best they had. It was the shock, he realized. It made him far calmer than he’d be otherwise.

He tried to think it through, but he had little to go on. He didn’t know this man. Didn’t even know what he was. He killed, but it was an accident. At least, when it came to his mother. Or was that a ruse? Could he have done it on purpose? Eli came up with a few reasons for why he’d do that, but… none of them would explain why the man wanted him and the twins to come along. Was it to get into Bee’s good graces? But no… she’d only hate him more for it.

Eli bit his nails. The stranger’s expressions—agonized, frustrated, despairing—appeared at the forefront of his mind. Those emotions were too raw to be an act. He was almost certain of it. And him being an elf, a faerie or some other type of magical creature… it just felt like too much effort to deceive a bunch of kids. Doubly so when he could compel with only a few words.

But that didn’t mean going with him was a good idea. And yet… staying was no better. They had no other family. No grandparents, uncles or aunts. Maybe someone would take them, but that’d just mean ending up with other strangers instead of this one.

Eventually, Eli raised his head. The man was looking at him. The twins were as well. Maybe they could see he was the calmest person here. Still… it was weird to have the four-year-old’s opinion be the tie-breaker.

“I think… we should go with him.” Eli said, speaking slowly. His voice sounded odd to his own ears. A little hoarse, like he’d been screaming or crying. If it happened, then he couldn’t remember it.

Beatrice’s eyes were like dinnerplates. She almost looked… betrayed. “E-Eli…”

He breathed out slowly. “He’s not going to let you go, Bee. I can’t speak for Licia and Bella, but I-… I don’t want to lose you too.”

Getting up, he walked over to her, holding her hand. “Wherever we go, whatever happens… at least we’ll be together.”

The man looked on with an unreadable expression. “I told her I would care for you. You are her children, so you are mine as well. You will have everything I can give you.”

Beatrice’s head sagged. A curtain of white-blonde hair covered her face, but a tear could be seen, sliding down one cheek. “I hate you. And I will never, ever forgive you.” She said, her voice cracking from emotion.

“I would rather have you hate me, and have you than not.” The man said, staring down at her. It was a few moments before he dragged her across the floor, heading to the front. He checked to make sure Eli and the twins were following. “The hour is late, and you are all young. You need rest. Don’t tarry.”

Licia and Bella trailed behind Eli, half-comatose. If he hadn’t led them by their hands, he felt they’d remain there forever—huddled in the hallway corner, their eyes glassy and unblinking. In-between the two, he followed the man out the front door, staring unwaveringly ahead. He didn’t look at the bodies. They might’ve been his parents once, but now… they were just corpses.

“Get in.” The man said, opening the door of—presumably his—carriage. It was dark outside, and eerily quiet. The lights burning in the neighbours’ windows were distorted, as if filtering through stained glass.

Helping Bella and Licia up the short steps, Eli’s thoughts turned to magic. It couldn’t be anything else. Certainly, with all the screaming and crying, someone would’ve investigated by now.

The man looked at the four of them, sitting on the plush seats. His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but then he simply closed the door, leaving them to their silence. Soon, the carriage started moving soundlessly. It was as if it were drawn forward by nothing, moving through nothing.

Small as he was, Eli had to strain to reach the opposite bench. He found Bee’s cold hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.” He waited a while for a reply, but none was forthcoming. Sighing quietly, he got up, sitting on his sister’s lap. He circled his arms around her back, resting his head against her shoulder.

It was hard to tell the time in the darkness, but after what felt like ten minutes or so, Eli felt himself crashing. Whatever concoction of hormones had been keeping him stable and alert were working out of his system. With the wall between him and his emotions gone, they washed over him in a wave. He felt relieved that he didn’t have to deal with any of it. He was simply too exhausted.

Before he knew it, he was already asleep.

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Eli wandered through dark hallways, his steps feather-light on the carpet. He’d long-since learned his lesson—that being conspicuous was a shortcut to a quick, gruesome end.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to actually defeat the abominable things haunting his sleeping-hours. He just needed to find the way out. Though, that was easier said than done. The exit could be anything—a door, a mirror, a pool of water… He could only rely on that nebulous feeling, like a tingle behind his eyes whenever he got close.

Making his way through the dark, labyrinthian mansion, he eventually arrived in front of two open glass doors. Silvery moonlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, stirred by the cold breeze. It was eerie, but nowhere near the usual scare-level.

Approaching from the corner, he slowly pulled a curtain away, peeking at what lay on the other side. It was… a maze-like garden. He got the impression it was big. Very big. If he wasn’t careful, he’d definitely get lost inside-… no, who was he kidding? He’d never been good at directions, and these nightmares were doubly-impossible to navigate.

‘This is going to suck.’ He thought, breathing out slowly.

He drifted aimlessly through the garden, letting his feet go where they willed. The place was beautiful in the dim light of the moon and stars. He soon found himself mesmerized, taking in the sights. He couldn’t imagine how much effort went into cultivating something like this. Every flower, shrub, brush and tree was deliberately planted, like strokes on a canvas.  There was a broader picture here—art, aspiring toward something—but he didn’t know what it was.

Eventually, he found himself standing in a small clearing. The path twisted and turned, drawing an outline inside a grove of trees. A wide stream was at other end, a stone, deck-like structure bridging it half-way. He could only imagine how serene it would be, standing there while overlooking the rippling waters.

“Can’t sleep, child?”

He was caught in the atmosphere when a melodious, feminine voice sounded from somewhere nearby. It worked its way into his head in a way that was difficult to describe, running down the back of his neck, down his spine.

Eli’s head warned him to put up his guard, or even better—to run. However, he knew it was pointless. He’d tried it before, but the monsters were too strong, and too fast. By the time they noticed him, it was already too late. This game of hide-and-seek was over.

Forcing himself to be calm, he turned his head. It was a second or two before he spotted her—over six-and-a-half feet, with long, flowing black hair, reaching the small of her back. She was facing away from him, so he couldn’t see her face. However, something about her—her posture, or her figure under the thin, black dress—told him she was extremely beautiful.

‘Well, this is a first.’ He thought. ‘They usually don’t talk. Not like this.’ For a moment, he considered saying something back, but he didn’t really know what. He just stood there, trying his best to maintain his façade. It wouldn’t make a difference, but he at least wanted to appear courageous—maybe if he pretended hard enough, it’d become real.

When he didn’t say anything, she turned, exposing her side profile. Eli’s intuition had been right. Her appearance was otherworldly, and clearly inhuman. Black feathers ran along her jaw, cheekbones and pointed ears, fading into her hair. Her eyes were black as ink. Her hands too—taloned and scaled, the color lightening where her wrists disappeared in her sleeves.

Some part of him protested at his staring—that it was rude, and that she’d make his end even more painful for it—but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. She was hypnotic. Her voice. Her figure, her face.

She looked at him for a moment before gliding over the clipped grass. She hovered about five yards away.

Eli gathered his wits. “This nightmare isn’t so bad.” He said finally. “This place is nice. And you’re the prettiest monster I’ve ever seen.”

Her face remained a porcelain mask, but she was surprised. He didn’t know how he could tell, but he could.

Her black eyes moved, the pale starlight reflected on their featureless surface. She was examining him. Looking him up and down. Resting her gaze on his face.

“You don’t belong here.” She said quietly.

He blinked. Was she telling him to leave? “I’m… lost. I don’t think I can find my way back.”

“No.” She said slowly. “That is not my meaning.”

Eli tilted his head. ‘Is she talking about the nightmare?’ He thought, not really understanding. He’d come to the realization that these weren’t exactly your run-of-the-mill dreams—they were too vivid, and didn’t seem like the kind of stuff his mind would conjure on its own.

Their standoff came to an end when she closed the distance. Then she passed him, looking over her shoulder. “Come.”

He hesitated. He knew he couldn’t run, but at the same time, he didn't want to resign himself to his fate. She didn’t seem homicidal, but appearances could be deceiving. “…okay.” He said after a while. Maybe he could learn something from this encounter. If he was better able to deal with this shit in the future, it wouldn’t be for nothing.

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