Play of Shadows

00.5 First Blood

The man was a goner.

This was Ann's first thought, shocked out of her before her mind quite caught up to the scene playing out in the distance. Details filtered in like light through dirty glass: The man running through the shadow of the stout old castle toward the approaching carriage was dressed like a servant, his thin body a wraith in the gloom. He glanced over his shoulder every few feet, the white of his eyes pronounced. The man was too far away still to tell what it was that chased him, but it must have been something awful, to incite such desperate screams.

"He's coming this way!" Tarah exclaimed.

"Should we let him in?" Phillip asked, sounding uncertain.

No one answered. Ann rather doubted that they would have a chance to do much of anything at all, but kept her peace, waiting for the show to come to an end.

The donkey let out a huffing whine. The carriage halted, just shy of the crumbling stone gates that ringed the castle's grounds.

It was then that Ann heard the howling.

Ann scrambled away from the window. She pressed her body into the corner of the carriage, palms cold, and tried to breathe through her panic.

The running man threw himself forward with greater strength. His face shone with sweat and tears. Every vein was pronounced, mapping his skin in a bruised web of greens and blues.

"Help," the man gasped, his cry garbled by his chattering teeth and the distance between them, "Please, help!"

The carriage stood still. Ann knew that if the man reached them, if he broke through the gates, he would be saved.

She knew, too, that such a thing would never come to pass.

The man stumbled. Four great shadows leaped upon him at once, indistinguishable from the darkness but for the glint of their eyes and teeth. The man's horrified screams were accompanied by the wet sounds of ripped flesh. The carnage continued long after the man fell silent.

Ann closed her eyes tight. She had her hands pressed over her ears hard enough to hurt, cursing the game and the castle's master in her heart.

Why, why did it have to be dogs?

"Are you alright?" Max asked quietly.

"Are they gone?" Ann whispered, eyes still squeezed shut.

"I believe so," the man said.

Ann uncurled slowly. Her whole body ached, every muscle tense. The growling had ceased at some point. She chanced a glance outside the carriage and found the dark peaceful and quiet once again.

The other players were not doing much better. Tarah clutched her chest and seemed to be praying under her breath. Cilla had her face buried in her 'husband's' shoulder, her grip tight around the man's arm. Phillip and James sat in blank silence. Ann bet they'd be a lot more vocal about their feelings without the two girls around.

"Bless that poor soul," Max said. The words rolled off awkwardly, but the sentiment behind them rang true.

"What the hell was that!" James exploded.

Tarah immediately shushed him, eyes darting toward the castle and then quickly away.

"It should be over now," Max said. His attempt at comfort was somewhat undermined when he immediately looked to Ann for confirmation.

"That's right," Ann said. Her voice steadied on the second try. "We were meant to see this, and we did. The scene's done."

"It should have been a warning," Phillip guessed.