A Wolf At The Door

Neuf

He wasn't sure how long he had been running. Only that the noises behind him eventually ceased, and were replaced by the croaks from the bullfrogs. As he waded deeper into the swamp, the sounds continued to grow more alive in the surrounding night. The shrill chirps of crickets could soon be heard over the steady trickle of water.

After seeing nothing but the marsh behind him, Olivier came to a halt near a willow tree, gasping for air. It might have been muggy, and warm, but his lungs did not resist the deep breaths they inhaled.

It was then as he leaned against the trunk did he become aware of the incessant pounding in his ears. No sound around him could compare to it in either volume or intensity. And the more he tried to ignore it, the more painful it became.

He brought his hand over his chest, feeling his pulsating heart. It had never throbbed this rapidly before, and he thought it might actually burst out from under his robe.

Sweat dripped from his forehead and around his neck, making his curls cling to the damp skin. As he went to wipe the moisture away, he felt something warm and sticky ooze from his cheek. Brushing it over the substance, he held his hand out in the moonlight, seeing a dark liquid on the tips of his fingers.

A sharp gasp escaped from his mouth at the sight. When had he been cut? But more importantly, how long had he been roaming around bleeding?

Realizing his blood might lead back to him, Olivier quickly departed the willow and continued through the bayou. Where he could possibly be headed, he hadn't the faintest idea. He had never been to the village before, and he only hoped he was coming upon it.

Several times, he thought he heard a branch break behind him or a splash of water to the side of him. But when he spun around, there was only the bright glow of the moon watching over him.

His breathing was starting to become uneven and grow heavier by the second. The thick robe only added to his suffocation, dragging his entire body down with its sodden weight. Olivier could feel his body starting to slow down. This endless chase was starting to take its toll.

Just when he thought he was on the brink of collapsing, a white outline came into view in the distance. Despite his body begging him not to, Olivier broke into a run at the promise of sanctuary and rest.

As he drew closer, he noticed this building was much larger than he initially thought. It must have span numerous acres from each end and stood several stories high.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen.

Green moss covered the porch, and vines entangled alongside its cracked walls. Even the door's wood was chipped away and took a considerable effort to push it open.

"Hello?" He called out as the door creaked back on its hinges.

Moonlight poured in from the windows above, bathing the lobby in an unnatural orange. The wood beneath him was broken in several places. The staircase to the right of him looked ready to cave in at the slightest ounce of weight.

All signs pointed to an abandoned estate.

Fearing this to be the truth, Olivier decided he must find some means to defend himself in case the beast was to show up. Careful not to stumble into a gaping hole in the floorboards, the boy made his way into the parlor. His legs seemed to be moving on their own without his direction, guiding him towards the fireplace.

For besides the fireplace was a long, pointed stick.

Olivier's hand had just wrapped around the cool metal when his eyes caught a glimpse of the portrait hanging above him.