His Dangerous Obsession [A Wednesday Fanfic]

Chapter 1

☘︎ *⚜*☘︎

𝖂𝖊𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖉𝖆𝖞'𝖘 𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉 𝖎𝖘 𝕱𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖂𝖔𝖊

☘︎ *⚜*☘︎

The night was thick with fog and the sound of howling wolves. Clouds hung overhead dark and threatening as the first drops of the night rain slipped through the edges, tumbling to the ground below where they splattered upon the dark forest floor that was littered with the fallen leaves of the decaying trees. One by one the drops fell, until a torrential rainstorm flooded the forest, sweeping away the fallen leaves of red and orange into a nearby river. The river was normally calm during the months of spring and summer and frozen during winter, but when the rain and leaves started to fall, it picked up its tempo, mimicking the rapids of a wide and powerful river.

And yet, even as the citizens of the village on the edge of the forest battened down their hatches for another long night of unrelenting rain, a young woman shrouded in a cloak as black as night made her way through the village square, tugging her hood further over her forehead. She had places to be, whether the rain pelted her or not. She tightened her hold around the bundle in her arms ever so slightly, pressing it closer to her chest as she swept the edge of her cloak around it to keep it dry. She rushed through the village, eyes flickering from one house to the next as the shutters shut in the light of the houses, darkening the cobblestones beneath her bare feet. Soon, the only light she was left with was the lights that lined the streets, which struggled to shine through the gloom of the night and illuminate the road that should have been as bright as it was during the day. Still, she pressed on, not daring to wait for a moment.

The forest greeted the woman with dark and twisted branches that snapped at her as she pushed them out of her way, leaving the path as soon as she entered the woods. Her feet found a hold in the cold autumn soil and she pulled herself along stumbling when a sudden root caught her by the foot and nearly sent her sprawling on the forest floor. She quickly caught herself, planting one hand against one of the trees as she caught her breath. She paused for a moment and stood a little straighter. She swept a hand across the bundle in her arms, pulling away a piece of fabric to reveal a small child, asleep in her arms and unaware of the danger she was in. The baby cooed in her sleep and nuzzled closer to the woman's warmth.

Shouting echoed through the forest and the woman whirled around, eyes widening when she saw the familiar glow of torches dancing on the dark bark of the trees around her. She quickly covered the baby once again and plunged into the darkness of the forest, cheeks flushing with exhaustion, feet starting to burn from the twigs and rocks scattered across her path.

She knew the villagers would have a difficult time following her through the woods. She was having trouble, and she had lived in the forest for the past thirty years, ever since she had crossed the barrier. For the villagers, it would be next to impossible. But she didn't dare stop. Not until she reached a grove of Hawthorn trees, that she recognised a dark shadow tucked just beyond the edge of the Hawthorns. She stumbled towards the shadow.

As she came to the shadow, she fell to her knees in front of it and reached out with her hand, finding the familiar wooden handle that she had buried beneath a pile of leaves. She smiled, despite the pain in her chest and her legs, and pulled the handle. The shadow came away to reveal itself to be a little door, only big enough for the woman to slip through. She did, holding the baby close to her chest as she slid through the opening before turning to shut it behind her. The two were covered in a thick blanket of dark silence, and in the silence, the woman let out a sigh of relief. They were safe.

After a moment of waiting in the entrance to their little home, the woman moved deeper, her hand pressed against the wall, feeling around for a sign of when she had reached the main part of her house. Soon, the wall fell away from her hand and she smiled. She patted around until she found a bed, and set the baby down. Then, she continued feeling around until she found the hearth and matchbox. She struck the match against the side of the box and smiled at the familiar glow of the fire and the heat it brought her. She dropped the match into the hearth and watched as the leaves and branches she had gathered started to burn. As the fire grew, it illuminated the small home that she had built for herself. The walls had been lined with stone, a few bits and bobs that she had collected over the past three decades, and a bed that she would now share with the young baby.