A Wolf At The Door

Cinq

The energy in the church was buzzing with panic and anticipation, for none of the monks were the least bit tired. No one could imagine going to bed at this hour, not when a stranger was only a few feet away.

This energy had found its way to Olivier, but for a much different reason. He was not frightened by the woman like the others. No, he was curious about her. Intrigued by her even. 

She was not the omen the other monks thought her to be. 

"Father, if this be a sign from you, then let this woman seek shelter here," a monk named Quincy prayed. "But if she is an agent sent by the enemy, then may we seek your protection."

"I have often heard tales from the village of a witch who lived in the swamp," Another monk by the name of Antoine muttered. "A witch who could change herself into a wolf. If this be her, then let your wrath fall upon this she-demon."

Olivier could only roll his eyes at these prayers as he overheard them, finding them to be utter nonsense. There was no evidence to believe Arielle was a witch or a demon. She was just someone who needed shelter from a terrible storm. What was so strange about that?

So while Olivier made his way along the rows of kneeling monks, he finally found a place beside one of the older monks in the monastery. Simon, as was his name, did not so as much as stir from his prayer as the boy knelt next to him.

"I know in my heart this woman is the beast feared by the villagers." His words came out in a string of whispers. "The one that has hunted and terrorized them so long ago. I fear she has returned to do the devil's work."

Olivier's eyes fluttered open, narrowing at the man beside him. But Simon remained oblivious to this, continuing to pray his ridiculous prayer. With a heavy sigh, Olivier rose back to his full height, deciding he could no longer listen to these superstitions. So as he left the church, he also left the monks and their stories behind.

He had barely stepped foot outside of the church when a howl pierced through the air and into his heart. It was a loud, drawn-out howl and it sounded as if it were only a stone's throw from where he stood.

It took him a few seconds to steady his heavy breathing, realizing that it had not come from inside the monastery but the outside. 

It had only been the sound of the wind.

Olivier would have laughed if it had not been for the bloodcurdling scream that rang through the monastery that nearly made him jump out of his skin. He didn't even have to think twice about where he was going as he rushed off.

He knew immediately where it had come from.

Rounding the corner, Olivier came to an abrupt stop at the sight before him. The cell door was partially open and pushed inwards, hiding whatever was going on inside save for the flicker of a flame.

Another scream sounded, spurring the boy into action. He ran to the door, creeping slowly into the room. As his eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight, his jaw dropped once he fully understood what was in front of him.

Father Samuel was hunched over, holding a candlestick in one hand and a silver cross in the other. On the floor cowering beneath him was Arielle, her hands covering her turned face.

Olivier's eyes shifted to the woman's exposed neckline, seeing three deep scars across her tan skin. Maybe it was a trick of the light, be he swore they looked like scratch marks left by some animal.

"Wha-What are you doing?!" Olivier's voice faltered. 

"Stay back, Olivier!" Father Samuel warned, bringing the cross closer to the woman. Its polished surface gleamed in the candlelight.

He rushed forward, coming between the man and Arielle. "You have lost your mind! Just like the other monks!"

"I told you to stay back!" Father Samuel roared, turning to Olivier and grabbing him by the arm. "These are matters that you do not understand! That you will never understand!"

Olivier writhed in the man's grasp as he was dragged out of the cell and cast aside. Before he could even regain his balance, Father Samuel had already closed the door, locking it with his key.

"Go to bed, Olivier," he demanded, matching the boy's glare. "There is nothing here that concerns you."

The man stormed off, leaving Olivier there with a scowl on his face. Already taking the first step towards his chamber, he was about to leave the cell when he glanced back to see Arielle's worried eyes peeking through the window.

"Did- Did he hurt you?" He asked, approaching the door. 

"No." She shook her head. "He just frightened me, coming angrily towards me with what I thought was a blade."

"It was only a cross," he reassured her. "It would not have hurt you."

"I did not realize it at the time." An embarrassed smile spread across her face. 

"Olivier." Her smile suddenly vanished. "Why are you here? Do you not have any family?"

"I know nothing of my family. My earliest memory is of Father Samuel and this monastery," he answered. 

Her eyes blinked downwards before meeting his again. "How old are you?"

Olivier was taken back by this sudden question. "Nineteen. Why-Why do you ask?"

"Because you should not have been raised here." She frowned. "A monastery is no place for a boy like you."

"Why not?" He bit his lip, not intending for his words to come off so defensive.

"These monks are not your family. They do not truly care for you. All they care about is their teachings," she insisted. "Just look at your Father Samuel. He only thinks he is protecting you."

"Protecting me?" Olivier's eyes widened. "From what?"

"From your past." Her voice dropped several octaves that Olivier barely heard it. "From the truth of it."

He gulped, taking a step back. "How... would you know that?"

Arielle's lips broke into a grin. "It is obvious, is it not? Why else would you know nothing of your family? Of where you came from?"

Olivier felt a trickle of cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck. Father Samuel would never hide something from him, especially not something like that. Right? This woman had to be lying. 

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the cell, turning the woman's clear figure into an obscure silhouette. For a moment, she was just a figure of black.

"This is no ordinary storm." She turned towards the window behind her, walking away from the door. "No, this is much stronger." 

She immediately returned, hanging her hands out between the bars. "You have experienced a hurricane before?"

Olivier quickly nodded. "Yes, once or twice."

"It will be a strange night then." Her eyes had lost their gleam, having grown dull as the night wore on. "And a long one too."

"I will let you rest then." He bid her goodnight, promising that he would return in the morning.

**

From atop his bed, Olivier found himself staring up at the ceiling. Unable to sleep despite the late hour, he listened to the storm outside that only served to keep him awake. The wind kept on whistling, fiercer and noisier than before. With each deafening wail, Olivier's ears perked up, recalling the howls from his dreams.

The howls that haunted him for so many years.

Turning over on his side, Olivier shut his eyes tightly, hoping that sleep would come to him at last. But the low moan from right beside his window forced them wide open.

Arielle had been right. This would indeed be a long night.