Birth Marks

Heather, a late teen within her years, lies awake; staring off into the ceiling dead at night, contemplating whether what she saw was a dream or not. Her mind ached and swelled as the night boiled around her on a summer night, hearing the chirps of constructing crickets outside her palladian-style balcony.

She could feel the moon’s breath swaying from her balcony, intertwining the drapery before swooshing into her room. The freshening breeze nipping underneath her thick sheer nightdress as it filled the room by the moon’s blessing after the sun’s prayer. The room’s quality, still warm with a speck of lingering moisture from the rainfall before, mimics the atmosphere lingering outside.

Her eyes. eroding with fatigue while she continuously stared at the ceiling. With hands resting gently on her midi nightdress, feeling the rough fabric of thick sheer underneath them while displaying a silent fold.

Her eyebrows gently squeezed together as she tried to make sense of it all. was it something she ate while she was having one of her adventures through the woods? Maybe it was her imagination going too far, or maybe she brushed up against something that causes hallucinations. That must be it, right? - there was no possible way on what she saw could’ve been real.

Heather tosses and turns, feeling the coolness as she brings herself over, maintaining an appeal of a wrinkled nose and puckered lips gently complementing her squeezed eyebrows. The more her mind refuses to let the occurrence go, the more her mind aches. It was a perpetual scene in her head, worsening the ache by the seconds.

Heather gently lifted herself up. She felt frustrated, she felt as if punching her pillow with a solid thud, would make her sleep, but at last, she realized it's a perpetual emotion. Heather flumps her head onto its velvety comportment. A burst of cold air split from both sides, fluttering Heather’s hair in a mini paroxysm.

“What was it!?” Heather tries to whisper her irritation, throwing her arms out in aggravation. But her words reverberate around the room as another breeze gently flows in. What she saw wasn’t normal. It was like a scene in a fantasy movie, some magical abracadabra shit. A scene so fictional that even when one wishing for it couldn’t make it real. Yet, her mind had solidified with the idea that it was.

She felt the sensations, she witnessed her arm illuminating in the origins of her birthmark, and she heard what sounded like a rustle of wind, signs for her mind to paint the picture of it being real.

Her pointer figure flies upward at the ceiling. Maybe that’s it - she just has to reanimate what she did this afternoon. Her butler and the guards were already watching over her like a hawk in the skies. Heather would need to slip out when the time was right, and the time was surely now.

“That’s it!” Her whisper nearly fainted as she flung herself up from her bed, looking off into the direction of her balcony.

Heather’s feet ruffles, feeling a gentle roughness as they slide off the cotton sheets, softly placing them upon the marbled floor, its complexion a numbing cold. The moon is high and the stars are bright. Maybe the sound of the choiring crickets can escape her melody.

The silky curtains sway from a breezy disturbance, creating a whooshing disobedience as the fabric wave glistened from the moonlight, waiting for her.

The air wraps around her with a delicate chill, soothing her hair with a quiet push, slightly making her skin prick as she coasts herself out and into the opening. The crickets choir dialed louder than a calming talks-men. Hearing a faint bass of frogs joining the orchestra off in the distance.

As she stands on her balcony, a breeze greets her with the moon’s welcoming smile. The orchestra below her creates a tranquil blessing from mother nature.

“Only for a moment.” She says with closed eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the peace revolving around her. Heather takes a deep breath in, smiling at the residue of after-rain, it was like a sweet smelling perfume to her. Maybe if mother nature were a person, her cologne would be this. The air captivated a refreshment, whooshing the grasp of fatigue away from her eyes.

She enjoyed the tranquility of the moment, accepting it as a gift the night was presenting. She knew what she needed to do.

Heather placed her hands on the rough, white stone railing of her balcony, feeling the burn as she lifted herself up, her nightdress fluttered as she went over, her feet placed perfectly in-between the pillars.

Her left foot slowly drifted downwards, guiding herself down onto a hollow piece within the building. The cubby-hole nipped with a cold bite as a little puddle greeted her foot. It was a perfect little hole to place her feet in, which was worn over from the many years of her and others alike that sneaked their way out.

Heather can see it now, her butler standing over her with a motherly expression saying “You’ll get sick if you stay out in the cold for too long” while her foot escaped the puddling blanket, she didn’t mind, it was something molecular opposed to the desire to know. Even if her butler was right, she didn’t care. She needed to know, she needed to recreate the steps to see if it was just all fantasy and imagination.

Heather gradually followed the path down, eventually stepping onto the cold wet grass down below.

With the desire akin to a burning flame, her feet scampered across the field. Heather’s nightdress flutters like a bird, free from its cage while she sprints to the forest’s edge. Thumping on the grass. Squishing and padding as she feels the humid air brush up against her like a wild current.

Heather stood a few feet away, her heart palpitating. feeling a cold rush at her upper chest.

The Forest awaited her, ominous in its presence. Fog willowed up towards the edge, delicately touching the tree's trunks as it waved a gentle hello with its cloudy tendrils.

She never explored the forest at night, it had a different tone than its morning counterpart. Hearing rumbling of leaves and breaking branches off in the forest. Delicately adding a sense of fear. With the unease swirling within her, the songs of wildlife courses through her ears, reminding her to stay present within the moment.

Heather takes a deep breath, inching closer to the edge of the forest, erasing her imagination revolving around monsters and wolves waiting for her.

This is just one of many steps she’ll have to face in order to satisfy her growing suspicions.

With a reintroducing current of air fluttering her nightdress and hair, she enters the forest with a stride. Branches underneath were a rough jab, but she followed through. Making sure that every step she takes, were the same steps she had taken during morning light.

As the snaring of breaking branches and leaves followed her through the forest. Heather doing her best not to let her imagination tell her that someone was following as another snap of a twigs reverberated from the distances. No one was awake during these hours, but that snapping sound resembled that of someone’s feet breaking tension.

She takes a huff of breath, releasing the thought. Trying to place herself back within the choir of frogs and crickets.

“Remember, it’s all in my imagination.” She says softly to herself, patrolling the area where she ate the leaf which she was one-hundred percent sure was edible. However, she takes herself to low-end, placing her nightdress ends onto her lap. Examining the leaf with detail from the moonlight beaming through the trees.

“Yup” seeing the right markings to differentiate between edible and non. From right being straight lines following the veins to non being curvy, more rugged lines departing from the veins.

Heather gets up with a sigh after a moment of double checking. “Wasn’t that.” She looks down the trail, her old foot-prints barely visible within the after-time of rain.

Just as she takes a step forward, another cracking sound resonates from behind. Her mind rushes to the familiar scene within her head.

“Imagination...Imagination.” She repeats to herself as she continues to walk the path. The wet ground, a catalyst for her disgust and fear. Maybe she shouldn't have sneaked out, no. This is what she needs to do, she needs to keep going. Finding out the truth is what's most important.

The shrubby around her acted like a wall between her and the continuous crunching shadow that was following closely behind her. A feeling of being watched framed the back of her head; she’s frightened. Heather takes a deep breath as she tries to calm a branching sting reverberating through her chest.

After a few moments of following her past self, the crackling behind her stops, but the feeling of being watched still resides. Her eyes urging her to look behind her, but the path ahead sparks a flair within her mind; the other portion to her question. Was it something she brushed up against that caused the abnormality?

She leans on the tree with her right hand, feeling the rough, wet and scratchy bark underneath her palm.

Heather creates a comfortable space between her and the mushroom next to the tree, listening to the idea that the fungi causes hallucinations.

Heather looks around, she couldn’t see a single foot-print, detail, or sign that allures her that she did. Noting that her past self didn’t stumble nearby.

Heather backs up and onto the trail where the other feet print wait and continue the path.

Her mind making what she saw form into stone. It had to be reality if the "what ifs" are being crossed off. The only thing that’s left was her imagination. But was her imagination that strong? strong enough to mistake what's fake as real?

The only way to dispel that; in her own sense, would be to have another pair of eyes. Though no one she knows would be willing or even open to that idea.

She rushes through the path, remembering the moment where she had a flare of joy. Yet in this sense, she’s jogging for another emotion, inquirement. Maybe she needs to feel joy in order to recreate it?

She tries to change her emotions, feeling a false sense of joy. Attempting to make it real as she possibly could in order to trigger the moment. She was coming up on the spot where it happened - and quickly. If it happens, it needs to happen soon.

Her heart thumped, and the moisture within the air was clinging onto her skin like a slime. Heather’s breath was rugged, but she forced herself to enter the spot. She stands there, nothing happening. She’s stuck there wondering if it was truly her imagination at play here, but why did it feel so real..? Why did her mind trick her like that?

“Okay..” She whispers to herself, closing her eyes. Forcing a focus on what she felt. Her eyes were pinched, eyebrows drawing an x in-between each other as she took it step-by-step.

Her mind was blank as her face mirrors her struggle to feel what she felt during the day.

However, nothing is able to be felt. What does happen is the reintroducing crack of a twig behind her.

Her eyes flutter open, Heather's eyes dilated with fear as she twists herself around.

nothing was there...

Maybe she was losing her mind, maybe she is losing her mind. Just like her aunt did, before this arrangement ever happened, before the butler had to take care of her instead.

But even so, a little voice of her aunt had spoke “You’re special, little one. Very special.” She had said.

She turns back into facing the opening, taking a step within the circle as she brings herself back to the words that her aunt had spoken of.

She could feel her aunt bring the cotton blanket over her shoulders and part her hair.

“How am I special, Aunti Lune?” Heather had asked, eyes filled with intrigue.

“You’re just like my mother. When she was a little one like you, she used a special gift to get herself out of trouble.” Lune brings her finger to her lips as the last of her words soaked in.

Crack.

A shiver ran down Heather's spine as the familiar haunting sound came back with an introductory rhythm of what sounded like heavy, deep breathing.

Originating just on the edge of the opening. IT was there and so was the numbing feeling dulling the back of her head. Heather looks down at her feet, seeing the bed of grass clasping to her feet - her eyes widened with dilation as the breathing becomes a low growl.

Her hair flows into a vortex as she swiftly spins around, her heart cold. Heather’s breath expelled sharply as glowing yellow eyes peered through the dark density of the forest's edge. It was as if the void had a pair of eyes, eyes that stared hauntingly back into hers.

Heather slowly prompts herself into a back-walk as she watches the darkness lurk forward into the moonlight.

Just like the stories had been told to her countless times before; A black glistening coat that reflected the moon light, haunting eyes, and sharp shimmering teeth.

The dark wolf, the dark guardian which never took humans for kindness.

Cold sweat formed on her complexion, the moisture within the air felt as though it were chains so she wont escape. This feeling smothered her, yet she remained as her legs trembled.

“A human?” A gargling echoed through the woods, forming into words. Can it talk, or was it just her fear?

“And after dark at that...” The voice traveled through the opening like a gust of wind, circling like a crow.

The wolf slowly steps closer and closer to Heather as she backs further and further away. With each paw on the grass felt as though a role was about to be assigned.

Her breath, shallow, and her hearth a drum as she tried to remain calm.

"Humans...” It had said, forcing a deeper growl. It’s eyes transitioning, transitioning into the color of blood.

The wolf stops, smelling the air, “I smell it on you.” The wolf leans in as it preys.

"That gods awful smell." The wolf continues. It's blood red eyes, like a nightmare you won't awake once it grips you.

The wolf pauses, tilting its head to the right.

"The smell of akin" The wolf lowers, never leaving its cold blooded stare.

“Just like that woman!” The wolf lunges at her, snarling with jagged blades. It's growl made Heather's blood run cold, sending a series of cold shivers throughout her body so quickly it made her numb.

Heather forces her eyes shut, feeling her heart at the seams, yet there's a moment, a pause that felt abnormal. Was she dead?

within the makeshift-darkness nothing happens until yellow glows against her closed eyelids. Just like the time before.

She opens her eyes, feeling the warmth circling around her like a mothers embrace. Her arm extended outwards, seeing her birthmark glow like a vibrant star. It happened, it finally happened.

The wolf hovers in mid-air, its paws dancing as the wolf tries to steady itself before being jolted backwards. The wolf yelps as it gets jolted backwoods, slamming into the ground with a hard thud.

The black flipped back up as quickly as snapping one's fingers, the wolf snarls, deep in menacing.

“An active one no less! ” The wolf’s eyes jittered in a variation of colors, displaying its inner emotions. The darkness readied a stance before letting out an ear piercing howl. Birds and animals alike scattered like a wild fire as the ground shook with a tremendous quake. Heather held her ears tight, feeling the pain digging even with her ever tightening grasp onto them.

She felt its howl through her chest, reverberating it like a storm. Heather held, screaming with determination. The air and moisture around her vibrated, feeling every pitch around her body. it’s like the wolf had let out a deep, turmoiling anger which had been residing in him for centuries.

“You'll all die!” The wolf had said over its howl. Heather could feel a deep tug at her chest, an emotion that wasn’t hers. A deep ache hidden within layers of layers of her own.

Her nose wrinkled, eyes a fierce squint as her eyebrows mirrored deep lines.

“Every one of you!” The wolf’s eyes began to swallow in tears, her chest tightened in a deep sorrow as the light from her birth marked projected an aurora around her. Was this the wolf’s emotion?

“You all hunted, murdered every single one of my kind for centuries!” The aurora whipped like a snake striking its prey.

“I thought I had finally avenged my kin! - But here one lies!” The anger within the wolf boiled the atmosphere around them, casting slight pricks against Heather's skin.

“I’m not like them!” She said, trying to cut through the quaking madness.

“I’m not a killer!”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

The quaking stopped.

“Liar!” The wolf stood, its fur heightened like protruding spikes.

As it lunged again, a single beam of blue light flickered through the Forest, illuminating the bark as it stretched out and into the opening. With a solid blow and an otherworldly rumble, it hits the wolf, knocking it back as it howls.

Heather sparked her gaze to the location, there stood a boy around her age, dressed in all black - matching his black hair that illuminated from the moonlight.

The blue light dispersed into an aurora of its own, circling back to the boy, his left eye glowing, matching the color of his light.

"It looks like I made it just in time.”

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