January Snow

The woman glanced out the windows at the ice climbing up the glass, the snow swirling perilously throughout the tiny village. She looked back at the baby in front of her, wrapped in so many blankets only his tiny head peeking out, staring back at her curiously. He made a gurgling noise, squirming around in his prison of blankets.

“I know,” she whispered, grabbing a cloak from the wall and clasping it around herself. “We’ll be out of here soon, don’t worry.”

She grabbed the baby, pushing open the door slowly, wincing at the creaking of the hinges. The cold winds gathered to meet her, ice and snow tearing her cheeks. She pulled the hood of her cloak tight over her head and pushed her way through the winds, towards the northern mountains. She knew she had only weeks before they discovered her disappearance and she hoped that would be enough. The baby wailed in her arms, the sound echoing inside the tiny house, and she pressed his face against her chest.

“Quiet, my child. We must be quiet if we are to survive.”

Her legs strained against the winds, defying nature itself. She made her way past the tiny village, her cheeks growing red with the cold, and she stopped to lean against a tree, taking deep, shuddering breaths. She glanced back, the village still quiet. No one had noticed yet. She went on.

She had only a day before they noticed, and she walked slowly, knowing that would be better than wasting all her energy on a run. Her feet sank in the snow, the packed powder pulling her down and grabbing at her. Winds caressed her skin like a harsh lover angry at her defiance, shoving her back, trying to persuade her this was bad idea. Do you want to return to him? the winds called, echoing her own thoughts. After everything he did, you’re coming back to him?

“I have no choice,” she said aloud, but no one answered.

The village was a small speck in the distance now and the sun glittered brightly against the snow, slowing the winds for a moment, allowing the view to be almost beautiful, hiding the treachery that lay within. After making sure she still couldn’t hear anyone she stopped to rest, leaning against a tree and pulling her pack off her shoulder, shuffling inside. She pulled out a little tin of dried meat and chewed tiredly on a piece, glancing down at her baby who lay curled up asleep on her lap.

As the sun rose higher, piercing the sky, the baby’s eyes fluttered open briefly, noticing the food in her hands. He looked at her and then at the food again, his eyes imploring her. She lowered the meat back into the tin regretfully, sighing. “Alright little one. But just a little bit for today. We need to keep our strength up for the long walk.”

The baby gurgled happily as she lifted him up, pressing her wrist against his tiny mouth. He sucked her wrist gratefully, little fangs extending and sinking into her flesh. She gasped, her fist clenching tight against the snow. The baby pumped his fists around, his eyes innocent as he sucked the blood from her veins, his cheeks growing a rosy hue. She bit her lip, leaning her head back against the tree, beginning to grow dizzy the more he drank.

“Okay stop.” She grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back. “Stop, that’s enough!”

She cradled her arm, massaging the place he had pierced her. The baby was disgruntled, grabbing weakly at her arm, trying to get more of the delicious liquid from before. “No more sweetie,” she murmured, grabbing wrappings from her bag and tying it around the spot. “We have to get going soon. Mommy has to finish eating.”

The baby wrinkled his chin, little tears rolling down his face as he began to wail, struggling against the blankets holding him. The woman pressed a hand against his mouth, making sure not to suffocate him, and continued to eat the dried meat, her mouth savoring the salty flavors. She wanted to devour the entire thing in one bite, but she put the remaining half back in the tin, her stomach growling regretfully as she did. She hobbled to her feet, shifting the baby in her arms. The sun rose completely now, bathing the snow in a glittering hue of colors and lessening the winds minimally. She forced her legs to move again, making the most of the daylight before it was covered by dark clouds and snowstorms.

For a few hours things were okay. Nobody had come for them and the day was getting slightly warmer, instead of colder as she predicted. She started to think maybe she could do this and as soon as the thought entered her head a little of her desperation slid aside, making room for her doubts to settle in.

What would he say when he saw her? Would he be angry? He had been furious last time she had seen him, and the sight of his face contorted in lines of rage, his cold, hard eyes, left her shivering more than the cold. She started to think maybe there was another way. She could take her child and leave, go somewhere far away where no one could find them, and she could live in peace.

She glanced down at her baby who yawned sleepily, his eyes closing as he snuggled up to her chest. She felt a pang of love for her child who she had spurned all this year, cursing his very existence instead of loving him the way a mother should. And now she was taking him back to the one person who would make him that thing that she hated, that cursed wretched thing she had seen at birth. But maybe it didn’t have to be that way. Maybe she could take him away, teach him to be good. He didn’t have to be a killer like his father. He could be good.

It didn’t have to be like him.

Darks clouds were beginning to cover up the brief sunlight they had, and she knew the villagers would be awake by now. Had they noticed her absence yet? How long would it be before they came after her?

She started to run, stumbling through the snow, holding her child tightly. She could feel her heart straining, trying to pump blood to her freezing legs and burning lungs. She was so close. Just half a day away. She glanced back, trying to see if anyone was coming. But the swirling snow obscured her vision, showing her faint outlines of trees but nothing more.

She threw herself forward desperately, body struggling to compensate. Her energy was beginning to falter, her legs tired from walking all day and now running on practically nothing. She fumbled inside her bag, searching for the tin from earlier. Where was it? Her face grew ashen as she realized with horror that she must have left it back at the tree where they had stopped earlier. Her stomach growled in anguish and she stopped, heart beating fast. Should she grab it? Would she have time before they caught her? She looked down at the baby, curled up happily against her breast. Her gaze softened. If they caught her they would catch the baby too. The baby who she had tried so urgently to protect. It would be foolishness to give that up now. No. She had to go on without the tin. She had to believe she wouldn’t be caught.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she continued on, legs heavy.

As she crested the mountain the looming cave began to come into view. Dark stalactites hung from the ceiling, barely visible against the darkness inside. She resisted the urge to laugh at the sight, how brooding and pretentious it all looked. A spark of fondness blazed in her chest, reminding her of the good old times with just her and Ellie, and along with it came fear of what drove her out in the first place. It was a confusing mix of emotions to deal with and her body and mind were worn out for worrying about it.

It was then that she first heard it. The rattling sounds of carriage wheels against the bumpy rocks and ice, the shouting of men hollering curses and threats. The woman’s heart seized in her throat and she clutched her baby tighter to her, almost instinctively. The baby looked up at her questioningly, tugging a lock of her hair, his eyes asking the obvious question of what was wrong.

She was too late. She wasn’t going to make it.

These thoughts rattled around inside her brain as she started to run, harder than before, her legs pumping furiously against the mounds of snow and fierce winds pushing her back. She let out a desperate cry, the wind ripping her voice away, and then, in a moment of weakness, she called his name.

“Elliot!”

It had been so long since she had uttered his name and she could feel her chest swoop tiredly at the sound of it, like it was trying to dredge up happy memories at the name but too tired to do so. She called again, tears rolling down her face now, though she knew it was inadvisable in this weather. “Elliot! Elliot help! Elliot!”

There was no reply and she was almost on the cave, only a mile away now. Along with fear and joy was frustration, frustration that he wasn’t answering her as though they hadn’t spent two years together in joyful union. Her face grew red with it and her eyes narrowed, “Elliot I swear to God if you do not answer me right now—”

Suddenly she felt a force grab her, shoving her back against an ice wall, the ice cracking behind them. “To God, really,” he murmured, his face inches from hers. “You know how much I hate his name.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her face flushed from anger and fear and relief, and it took her a few moments before she could answer him. “You came.”

He grinned. “You called.”

They stood there a few moments, neither one of them saying anything. His fingers were curled around her neck in a way that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. All the animosity that had been between them momentarily left her mind, leaving behind only the whispered words in the night, the laughter shared, the burning kisses pressed against shivering skin. She almost forgot the baby in her arms until he let out a happy shriek, his arms pinwheeling wildly underneath his blanket. Elliot’s head whipped down to look at him, eyebrows raised in fascination. “You brought the child.”

She gripped her arm tighter around her baby, everything unpleasant crashing back down. She wanted to leave, to never have come here, and at the same time she wanted to press her lips against his mouth, his neck, his jaw, and stay there with him forever. “They found out,” she answered only, her jaw coiled tight, eyes narrowed cautiously.

Elliot let go of her and she sunk to the ground, coughing as she rubbed her neck. She hadn’t realized how hard he had been holding her. He leaned down, one finger stroking the baby’s chin thoughtfully. The baby giggled wildly, grabbing his finger in one hand, recognizing his father.

“You want to raise him together again?”

The woman snapped her head up. “No. I want the cure.”

Elliot’s thoughtful expression turned to disdain and irritation almost as quickly as it had come. “This again? I told you there isn’t one. The only cure is death—”

“No, there has to be something,” she interrupted. “That can’t just be it. He’s…” she trailed off, looking at the child who she had done so much to protect. “He’s not natural.”

Elliot laughed, eyes amused. “I’m sorry to break it to you dear, but neither am I.”

The woman struggled to explain everything that had happened. The rapid growth; the bloodlust; the hypnosis. And other things, more normal things; how the baby slept like her and grew like her and drank breast milk and food. She tried to make sense of it, how the baby could be so like him yet retain so many human aspects. She tried to explain it without sounding desperate and crazy. How the baby terrified her and how she loved it all the same. How did someone feel something like that?

Elliot listened, quiet, taking in the information and processing it. After she had finished he picked up the baby to the weak protest of his mother, tilting his head at it.

“It sounds to me,” he said, smiling at the blood red eyes of the child. “That the best thing to do would be to raise him like I was raised. Teach him to fight, to protect himself, to…” he paused, his eyes flicking behind them where they could still hear the villagers shouting angrily. “To kill.”

“Absolutely not,” the woman said, rising suddenly to her feet and snatching the baby back. “No. He is not being raised like you. He’s not gonna turn out…” she trailed off, wind tearing at her cloak from behind her.

“A killer?” he answered for her, amused. “That’s a nice thought but I’m afraid he already is one.”

The shouting grew louder, and Elliot frowned at it. “In fact, I think this is the perfect opportunity to teach him a valuable life lesson.” He hefted the baby in his arms, smiling at it. “Do you want to go kill the villagers with Daddy?”

The baby giggled delightedly, pressing a hand against his face. “Dah!” he shrieked.

Elliot raised an eyebrow at the woman. “I guess we have our answer.”

The woman stumbled forward on shivery, cold-ridden legs, trying to grab back the baby. “Please, Elliot don’t do this—”

But he had already gone, and she fell forward where he had been, her knees sinking into the snow. She could barely see him anymore, his form a blur as he raced across the rocky mountain. It wasn’t long after that that she heard the screams and then worse then that, the silence of them.

The woman sat there, hands outstretched where her baby had been. Her jaw trembled furiously as she tried to contain the fears and exhaustion that threatened to leak from her at any moment, her eyes blinking rapidly. The snow soaked through her padded pants, wetting her knees and spreading the cold throughout her body. It suddenly occurred to her how little protection from the cold she had, what little food she had eaten, how her body shook, swaying in the icy winds. She thought about the villagers, desperate for blood after what she had brought into the world. She thought about how no matter how much she tried to run their death would always be on her conscious, reminding her of what she and Elliot had done.

She thought of their child, mostly, his innocent eyes and bloodstained mouth, the gurgling noises he made when he was happy, the way he said “Mah!”, his smile stretched wide. She thought of all the moments crying in the night along with him, wishing terrible things that a mother should never wish. She thought of Elliot, smiling down at the baby who in turn smiled up at him. She thought of how she would never be free no matter what she did.

The last villager dropped to the ground, dead, and Elliot watched in approval as the baby crawled over to him and drank thirstily from his veins. He laughed, rubbing his head affectionately. “My own little demon,” he murmured.

When they returned, the child held once again in Elliot’s arms, the woman was gone. He came to stand where she had stood, looking at the footprints leading to the cliff’s edge. “My child,” he said in a quiet, somber voice. “I believe your mother has done something terrible.”

He walked to the edge and looked down, eyebrows drawn together in disappointment and a little something like regret. The baby looked down as well on his mother’s body, discarded on the ground so many feet down, blood spilling at her feet. Her limbs were splayed in a matter that looked altogether awkward and wrong, just slightly off. The baby looked down at his mother and licked the blood off his lips.

Elliot pulled the child away from the sight, shaking his head. “She always was too weak,” he murmured, starting to head back up the hill, towards the cave looming in the distance, the baby in his arms.

Outside, the storm raged.