Nobody is stupid enough to venture into unknown territories, except for Ilya. Don't get him wrong! He never meant to enter that mysterious village.
Fate led him there to save, or be saved.
"Peekaboo!"
Beast is a cruel creature that used to be human...
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A trembling hand reached to the side of Charlie's hairy frame. A hand so delicate it felt like a swipe of cozy blankets against Charlie's rough skin. A single hand was the only part of Ilya's body that wasn't injured clutched Charlie and wouldn't let go.
Like a baby seeking the comfort and safety of his mother, Ilya buried his bruised face in the fur of Charlie's chest, and then he cried.
"Charlie. I'm sorry that I left. I'll never do it again, just please help me."
Hours, probably days, of suffering alone in Beast's lair came out all at once in heart-wrenching muffled sobs.
Charlie froze from the sudden change in the boy's behavior towards him. His hazel eyes widened from the unexpected friendly hug, as opposed to the fear-induced moves when they first met.
The old man's heart broke piece by piece with every painful sob that came out of this helpless sweet human boy.
His eyes softened. A hurt smile stretched the corners of his lips. And his muscular arms finally moved to wrap around the small boy's frame, embracing him in a warm embrace.
Charlie stroked Ilya's soft messy hair and whispered comforting words into his ears.
"It's alright, lad. I'm he'e. I'll protect you."
Charlie didn't wait for the boy to stop crying. He kept his beastly eyes on the door while trying to shush Ilya and calm him down. Time was not on their side. Staying in a zombie-infested building a second longer meant death for both of them.
Ilya knew that too, as it didn't take long for his sobs to diminish into hiccups.
Charlie got up to his feet and gently took Ilya's hand.
"Come on, now. Let's get—"
Charlie stopped abruptly and let go of Ilya's hand when he raised his head. The boy's new appearance broke something inside him and brought tears to his eyes. This was not the same boy who entered his house the other day. That boy looked clean and healthy. However, this boy looked like another zombie, a trembling twitching human on the verge of dying.
"It's so cold," Ilya said, shivering.
Pale sickly-white skin was stained red. A torn hoodie was wrapped around his neck to serve as an arm-slinger for a broken arm. Blue pants turned crimson and filthy. And that once beautiful symmetrical face was now half-stained with blood oozing out of a bruised cut on the eyebrow.
But Charlie wasn't worried about any of that. The only dreadful thought in his mind was, Has the lad been bitten? Especially when he saw blood coming out of the boy's shoulder.
That's a wound.
A dark cloud of panic loomed over Charlie's face, and it scared Ilya.
"What?" the boy wiped the blood and tears off his face and asked. "What is it?"
