Heroes and Wolves [book 1]

Chapter nine

Layla

It's nearly the end of the day. I have climbed a tree; not far from the ground as I am no lover of heights but I do find myself up them a lot. I guess its peaceful in a way. I love closing my eyes and just listening to the nature around me, the birds chirping and the branches swaying in the wind. When I hear the birds, I know I'm safe but it's when silence fills my ears that I know it's time to leave as the growls will resonate.

The sunset gradually sinks into the mass of trees in front of me. Flames of orange light up the sky as they are slowly swallowed by the dark and unknown of the trees from this angle. I love this view; it reminds me of a memory with my dad. I can remember him beside me watching the sunset at the top of a cliff. He always sat and dangled his legs on the edge like he didn't have a care in the world. He was so brave and fearless, I know that now but everything is still a blur with what happened next, where I was, who I was with. My mind just clears at the time I woke up in a room, with unfamiliar people trying to calm me down. I didn't know where I was, why I was there, or where my dad went, how could you expect a kid to calm down in a place unknown to them?

I was a handful. The many time-outs, groundings and markings on the walls were a clue that I was hard work. The fact that I had someone always with me as I grew older was yet another indicator. Alex was his name, Al for short and he would keep by my side with everything I did and everywhere I went. He always talked to Mark and Eve Bolton who were the adults of the house since there were a lot of children and controlling them took time, controlling me took all their time but they both smiled at me and didn't react like every child did when they saw me which made me feel normal though I hate using that word. Nobody is truly normal; everyone has their imperfections with mine being mainly my anger.

I still recall the day I was told what happened to my dad. I was eight, I think. I remember the solemn room I walked into. The walls were tall and my footsteps echoed off the wooden floor. The room was massive or at least it looked like that to eight-year-old me who was heading into the unknown.

I sat in front of a large rounded, polished brown table. Four people sat around it and each of their reflections were cast on the shiny surface. Mark and Eve Bolton were there, Alex and another man whom I cannot remember his name though his features are engraved into my mind like a stone etching as well as my hatred for him that's marked on me. His broad shoulders, long dark hair and piercing green eyes - still brings shivers down my spine even now. That meeting wasn't the first time I had seen him. He worked alongside Alex, sometimes taking his whole position up when he was absent or had to run an errand, but when that happened, I wished he came back quickly because he just wouldn't leave me alone.

What they told me was that my dad just left me and he died soon after that day. That's it. I was given the photograph I hold so dearly to my heart from Alex but I never got any more information.

I wipe my cheek as a tear comes down. I didn't believe he was dead so I pushed myself to think that he was missing but if that was true then it meant that he knew where I was all the time and he never came back for me. He can't have just left me, but this is the reason I change my past in my mind. I am stronger than this, I know I am. I'm managing. I'm surviving and I must be doing something right. I rebuilt this shack with my bare hands and draw the Guardian angels as a sort of hobby to keep me occupied.

Maylock!

He's in the forest, the place with a myth of a monster, the supposed monster of Folklore. That has a good but slightly sinister ring to it. I shake my head to get the thought of the name that isn't real out of my head. It isn't real. It can't be. It's not.

I am torn at what to do. Should I follow him? If he is a Guardian then he has probably faced a lot worse than whatever could be in there. He'll be fine. I'll leave him. But he has my bag... The thought of my precious photo being away from me urges me to climb down the tree. The fact that Maylock has also gone into those woods alone makes me unable to just stay here and not do anything. Guardian or not, those woods are unpredictable, so I grab a sword out of one of the holders for my own protection and run into the forest from exactly where Maylock went in.

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It is eerily quiet. The way the wind blows and the rustling of leaves and tree branches gives a sense of a horror movie and I don't like it. Should I go back? My breathing is slack as I creep further in, sword still in hand with my grip that grows tighter each second. I need to find him. I am scouting every tree; though it's so dark that the bark and the browns and greens of leaves can only be seen until I get close to them.

     "Maylock?" I call out but no answer follows.

I keep looking around but I can't scour the entirety of these woods so I turn back. Finding Maylock in these woods would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack; its near impossible.

My footsteps crunching on twigs and dead leaves are the only sounds that disrupt the silence around but something feels off. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as if someone is behind me. I stop and look back. I am met with darkness, yet the footsteps continue.

They aren't my footsteps.

     "Maylock?" I'm getting nervous now. "Are you there?"

The footsteps come to a sudden stop and a low growl rumbles in replacement causing my anxiety to skyrocket.

I bolt away, weaving quickly in and out of the trees when they come into view but I don't know where I am heading. This forest is endless.

A literal blur goes across from one tree to another in front of me. What the hell was that? This mysterious sight causes me to slow down and process what it was. That blur was so fast that it made the leaves on the ground get chucked up from it.

The footsteps return which puts me on edge as the blur shows again. What is this blur? More footsteps come after which now form a pattern. The blur shows itself when the footsteps stop and flits from one tree to the next, closer to me each time it appears.

I anticipate the next sound of footsteps, gripping my sword in preparation to attack the blur when it shows but this time the footsteps don't stop. They are getting louder - coming nearer, before a growl thunders and the blur bolts past me, hitting me on its passing and I am shoved onto my hands and knees from the impact. My sword drops to the floor but then an almighty pain emits from the back of my left shoulder.

     "Shit!" I cry out as I reach around to feel my shoulder, its wet and I bring my hand round to see it red with blood, my blood.

I try and get up, but the pain in my shoulder pins me to the ground, I can't move. The pain intensifies and the leaves on the floor start to get cold, really cold. I feel as if I am sinking into them.

    "Layla, Layla!" a voice echoes. "Oh, shit Layla" someone is dashing towards me, the forest floor crunches and snaps with each quick step they take. They come into view but I cannot make out who it is as everything around me goes black and I fall, succumbing to the feeling of weightlessness and the leaves and the mud consume me.