Shadows of a sunset

Chapter 1: A Grim Night

England, South Lancashire, 1751

The day had fallen to dusk, leaving the sky soaked in a deep orange, with the ever encroaching night diluting the colour as it drenched the land below. In particular, the light fell on the modest field of a farmer, Liam Crawford, as he solitarily finished tending his crop, even as all the other farmers in his village were returning home in the distances.

Despite the beauty above, or the promise of home, Liam’s attention was set towards the forest looming ahead, where it seemed night had already began taking hold. It drew his mind to the lands that lay beyond the trees. Standing on the other side of those trees Liam could see all the way to the horizon, a vastness so great it could almost swallow you whole.

Liam’s thoughts were drawn back home when the dark began to pervade the sky, and he decided it was perhaps time to follow the lead of his peers. He stood up, stretching his lean body, and looked behind him, past the field, to his wife Mary, in their modest home. Liam could see her glancing in his direction through an open window, her emerald eyes asking him to return, while she twirled and smoothed her long chestnut hair that draped around her kind face.

He looked back to where he was facing, a smile on his face, and began patting off dirt from his old white shirt and dirty brown trousers. He intended to give one last glance to the forest before going home to Mary, but when did he noticed something running through the trees. Before he could have a proper look it moved passed him with such ferocity, yet it seemed almost unburdened by any natural obstacles laid before it.

Within a few paces, the creature vanished deeper into the forest. It was so quick, Liam was left standing there, searching the trees, uncertain if he’d actually seen something… other, or if perhaps he’d simply been working far too hard. He considered taking Mary’s advice to hire some help, though that prospect made him nervous in its own way.

Ultimately he decided just to turn back and walk home, though he couldn’t help being frightened with having his back to those trees. As he walked his mind couldn’t help but wander back to that moment, mulling over everything he saw, or thought he saw. For the first time in his life he really had trouble trusting his own eyes… “Liam, are you alright dove?” He was at his back door, adjacent to the path that led to their field, in which Mary stood. She had been leaning against the frame, but upon seeing Liam’s face began standing with more concern.

He actually considered going back for another look, but instead said “Um, nothing, I suppose but, it’s odd, I could have sworn I saw someone running through the trees.” His wife furrowed her brow. “Truly, did he seem dangerous?” “No, he, well I couldn’t be certain it was a he… it was so quick, like a spirit, and I think it was adorned in a shroud, or some such.”

Mary took a moment to think before replying. “Well, it would appear, perhaps, you only thought there was someone in the forest. You know you’ve been toiling in the field, since dawn, and the forest can get fairly dark. It was probably not a soul.” Feeling a little more at ease with her explanation, Liam produced a weak smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

He followed her inside. Their living room was sparse, save largely for a wooden shelf, a small table, and a pair of chairs facing the windows. And then there were the candles, a few on each surface except the chairs and the floor. Unlike people in the adjacent town, and even a few in the village, Mary and Liam didn’t have a fireplace, so their only light at day’s end came from Mary’s few candles.

She began to talk about her day as the two sat in their chairs, but Liam remained a little distant, “…Nobody knew how it began, one of the merchants just struck the other, then in the next breath stands were knocked over and before long passers-by were prying them apart, it was…” Liam suddenly felt his wife take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “The vision in the forest really put you off then?” He nodded.

She sighed, leant back in her chair for a moment, then just gave him that smile. The one that made Liam feel contented and secure, like they were children again playing among the summer flowers… it always put him at ease. “Well, shall we depart for a walk, you know, under the stars,” she glanced up as if she could see them, “where the neighbours are in their homes and we have a piece of the world to ourselves...” Liam nodded again, moving his mouth into the shape of a smile. They got up and blew out all but one of the candles, the last Mary took with them as they left their home.

This far from the village square left the roads dark, save for the lit homes strewn haphazardly further down the street. The only useful light though, aside the stars above, obscured by the cover of clouds, was the one held by Mary. She guided them down the darkened path, towards the village square, as their home slowly disappeared into the dark.

“Alright then, what do you believe you actually saw in the forest that’s unsettled you so?” Despite the oddity of his sighting, he told her before his next breath. “Well, I don’t know, really… but the way it moved made it appear, briefly, like it was perhaps a ghost or maybe a spirit? I know it sounds ridiculous, yet it seemed so vivid…” She gave a small laugh at Liam’s surprise, yet despite the humour on her lips her eyes only held concern. She again gently gave his hand a squeeze.

“Don’t worry, it’s common. I’m sure if you asked anyone, they or someone they know would have a similar account.” She led Liam to the side of the dirt road and leaned against the stone wall bordering someone’s front garden. “Once, a few years ago, before I was truly a woman, I swore I saw something, otherworldly.” She lifted herself up a bit onto the wall, her hands pressing down to keep her steady, and her feet dangling just off the ground. After a cautious glance to check the wall’s owners weren’t watching, Liam kept his focus fixed on Mary.

She hunched over and widened her eyes. “Alright, here’s my tale. Between the forest and our farm, is a fairy ring.” She briefly made whimsical gestures as she spoke. Liam almost managed a small laugh at her performance. “Alright.” “Yes, a fairy ring!” She smiled to herself. “I found it curious, given the tales of fairies and elves and the like, so I went for a true look, around sunset because I’d heard that was their usual time of arrival.” She leaned forward.

“So that evening I was heading towards the ring, when I thought I saw someone, moving low, just out of clear view because of our farm’s fence. They were around the ring. I picked up my pace, all the while expecting to find some tall, handsome elven man, with long golden hair, ready to take me on some fanciful adventure.” Liam actually managed a laugh this time, which certainly pleased Mary.

“But… I found to only be John from down the road. He’d shown how he favoured his gin. By some means he found his way down there, falling asleep by the fairy ring. He was raving about some festival in the woods the night before, and dancing wisps and whatever else. I just got him to his feet and helped him home.” “Huh.” Liam was left bemused, but he considered Mary’s story. “The lesson here,” She continued. “is the mind cannot always be trusted, especially if are wishing for some excitement to come through.”

She hopped off the wall and the two continued walking down the road, eventually getting closer to the village square, where they found more and more people, no doubt drawn by establishments like the local tavern. As they passed villagers there were nods and waves, though Liam couldn’t help but dodge eye contact, moving inches closer to Mary, though he did attempt some polite acknowledgement. He also avoided Mary’s eye, knowing how she’d react.

As they continued on their usual walk, the road opened up in the village square; centred on a well and surrounded by most of the village’s businesses, the most prominent of which was the large, almost prestigious, tavern. It lit up the square with people scattered in and around it like moths. Liam tried to walk by, but Mary wished to go inside.

“The hour is late for that, um, perhaps we should just walk a touch longer, then return home.” Mary managed a smile, then playfully tried to drag Liam to the tavern, though he wouldn’t budge. “Please Mary, I’d rather not.” She let go and stood stiff, her emerald eyes clouded with a disappointment stale from overuse. “Liam, I know you have trouble venturing out of our home, but you cannot stay huddled in our house every evening. Please consider, your days are so dull you’re at the point of telling yourself tales, this will do well for you, please just come inside?”

He could feel how she felt radiating off her. This situation wasn’t new; neither was his failure to overcome his issues. It all began welling up for Liam. He looked down, his hands clenched, eyes warm, he tried to take a steadying breath. “It’s not that simple, you believe it’s just a matter of walking in, but I just… I cannot, I’m overwhelmed, please could we just return home…” She stepped back with a little frustration, but tried to make eye contact with him and push ahead. “Liam, if you believe it unfeasible, then it will be, at some stage you just have to find a way to force yourself through the threshold.” “It’s not that simple.” “Or perhaps it is and you refuse to face your demons head on.” He couldn’t help it; it was too much. “Oh just stop it!” He wasn’t really thinking about Mary; he just felt overburdened. He tried to breath. And not cry. People were watching.

When he did finally look at Mary, she was shattered, for a moment only a wisp of herself remaining. She’d never seen him like this. “Fine, I’m going home, you do whatever the fuck you want, I’ll see you there, but really, for pity’s sake, just go into the fucking tavern!”

She turned around and stalked off, not looking back or giving Liam much of a chance to catch up. He was left there, feeling small and stupid, like a child, and immediately wishing to make amends. Though he expected she’d be even more upset if he followed after her like a homesick puppy. But he couldn’t stay there because passers-by were still staring. More a moment a small panic gripped him, so he scurried away, hiding behind on of the buildings surrounding the square. He began leaning against a wall, trying to breath and wiping tears from his eyes. ‘Alright then, what do I do?’

He looked around the corner at the tavern. He stared for a while, the prospect of going inside, alone, making him feel sick. But, for Mary’s sake if nothing else, he decided to go inside. ‘But just a drink. A brisk entrance and brisk departure. Brief, simple. Just do it.’ Trying not to think about it, he started walking very quickly towards the tavern, as if to get it done as fast as he could without lingering, then go home and tell Mary he did it.

He hurried through the threshold into the large room so quickly he almost stumbled, then sat at the bar, “I’ll have anything you have”, dropping money on the counter and keeping his back to the rest of the room. His heart was racing, but it began to slow as he settled into the moment. Nothing was happening. He was fine. But he still had a sense of unease, even fear, but without any apparent reason.

Its then he began to notice the din of drunken patrons was nothing but hushed tones and cautious whispers; and above them all Liam heard the loud, self-assured, laughter from the back corner of the tavern. Liam doesn’t recognise who it is.

He should leave. He only meant to come in for a drink, he had done that. His throat was dry. He swallowed as he slowly got up from his stool. He could hear other people, who apparently felt the same unease, step outside. Liam then turned to leave, catching a glimpse of the stranger as he did; though he wished he hadn’t.

If he’d had a kinder soul, this man wouldn’t have caused such a stir. In fact, he looked remarkably average. He had no scars, nor was he’s exceptionally big, and he seemed to have nothing on him except the ragged clothes he wore and a faded black cloak strewn over the chair next to him. However, the man was just…entitled. He’d spread out over multiple tables without a need except perhaps to show he could. The same can be said for his many ‘free’ drinks and disregard for those he’d made uncomfortable. Liam had never seen someone so clearly poor, perhaps even homeless, command such authority and fear over people, a pauper who postured like a king.

And Liam had no intention of being one of his subjects, so he immediately began stepping back and turning to leave; until, in the corner of his eye, he saw this lord of lechers reach out ideally, grab a girl and yank her to his side. Liam, still backing away, looked around to see its Sarah Fisher, the tavern owners’ daughter.

The stranger had seemed to have lost interest in the rest of the tavern, instead whispering bitter somethings into her ear, a big toothy grin on his face, and a pale shudder on hers. She seemed too terrified to say a word, and everyone else was either too scared to pay this wretch any attention, or were simply too afraid to say anything.

Opposite the main, double doored, entrance was a slim back door, a few feet from where the pauper king lounged about. He began taking the shrivelled, muted, Sarah out this backway. Liam watched and he for a moment he couldn’t move. He was too scared to stay, yet too reluctantly noble to do nothing.

Eventually that cursed nobility won out.

He turned from the main entrance and, despite sweating enough to fill the well outside, he called out, “Hey!” to this stranger. The already hushed tones fell silent when they realised who Liam was addressing. Already some witnesses could sense the coming threat, and subtly slipped out the front door. But in that same breath Liam found he wasn’t alone.

Upon the situation coming to their attention, Mr and Mrs Fisher, both having been busy at different ends of the bar, looked out to see their daughter in trouble, and immediately came to her aid. Her mother took her by the hand and guided her upstairs, showing noteworthy bravery to so easily approach this feared figure. But the stranger was apparently more interested in Liam than Sarah, or her mother, anyway.

Sarah’s father joined Liam in addressing the stranger, as did others, either emboldened by Liam and Mr Fisher’s bravery, or perhaps too drunk to give the decision much thought. In any case, Liam soon found half a dozen men standing by his side, which did make him less scared, but as he looked upon the calm demeanour of his adversary, a little spark of fear remained.

The stranger crossed the large expanse before anyone could even react. He stood right in front of Liam and, despite not being any taller, seemed to almost loom over his new, terrified, opponent. And Liam’s fear turned into a pyre. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he had six people with him. At that moment, for Liam, there was just himself and the giant. In that moment he was convinced he was going to die.

But he didn’t. Instead, the stranger glanced at everyone. He mulled over something in his mind. Then laughed. “Very well. I’ll depart.” He moved in close to Liam. Took in a deep breath through his nose, and said, “but you owe me another.” He then walked out the main entrance, with nobody daring to stand in his way. Once he was gone any fire Liam had drained out of his body, leaving him limp. But those around him were there to help.

They put him in a chair, and Mr Fisher had a barmaid get Liam free drinks while he went upstairs to see his daughter. Everyone showed Liam admiration, patting his shoulder, congratulating him, helping the barmaid bring drinks. Soon the room was crowded with people, drinking, singing and laughing, all the while Liam was swept up in their festivities. He even managed a genuine smile as, for once, he felt like part of the community.

A few hours later, as Liam was going to leave, Sarah came down. She was still a little pale, and understandably shaken, but she gave Liam a hug and thanked him. When he left, Liam was grinning from ear to ear, and feeling like a hero.

He found his way home fairly well, despite his mild drunkenness, but as he approached his house he noticed no candles were lit. He supposed Mary had gone to bed, so he opened the door quietly, intending to sneak into bed so as not to wake her. Yet inside their home the air felt oddly still, and cold. Walking into the living room, nothing seemed to have been touched. He stepped out of the living room into the very short hall that led to their bedroom. But along that hall was the back door, and it looked like someone had forced it open.

Liam began to sweat, his breathing grew rapid, he rubbed his hands red in anxiety as his widened eyes darted around like flies, trying to find some clue of what happened. He tried to calm himself, he told himself that it wasn’t forced open, that’s his mind playing tricks again. She simply opened the door to bring in fresh air and forgot to close it. That was all. He’d remind her to not leave the back door open tomorrow morning, after he’d apologized for tonight. She was only trying to help him, that’s all she’s ever done since they were children, when she was the only one who’d talk to him… He shouldn’t have yelled… A closer look shows the doorframe and lock were definitely broken. Tears began forming in the corners of Liam’s eyes.

He ran into their bedroom. She wasn’t there. He tried all the rooms, finishing with the kitchen. She wasn’t there. Panic tore through him as tears ran down his face. ‘What’s fucking happened to her?!’ His mind was racing, then he remembered what the stranger from the tavern had said. ‘You owe me another…’ His legs gave out and he fell against the kitchen wall. ‘Oh God…’

“AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!” “Mary!” The cry came from the forest. Without thinking Liam ran outside, grabbed a pitchfork leaning against the house, and began sprinting towards the trees.

In the forest it wasn’t long before he heard Mary whimpering. He almost threw up at the sound, but kept himself together and followed its trail, despite how his whole body trembled. He stepped into a clearing. A stream to his left, a few trees and, at the centre was that terrible fiend, standing on a boulder. Mary, limp and covered in blood, was held by the throat with one outstretched hand. The stranger laughed, “debt paid in full.” He then threw Mary’s lifeless body away like an apple core, where it landed in the stream.

Liam just stared at her corpse. Everything seemed to break away; sound bled out of the air, his breath seemed to go, he stopped feeling his heart beat, his body felt limp though he didn’t fall. The monster started laughing.

Suddenly everything came rushing back and he was back in the moment. His eyes, full of hellfire, locked onto the killer. Then the breath was torn out of him again when he saw that face.

The stranger’s mouth was covered in Mary’s blood, and to Liam’s horror it was also dripping from a pair of pronounced fangs in place of his canines. The creature’s expression was contorted into something almost inhuman, like one of a beast lost in its own blood lust. He was looking at Liam with the intent to kill. But not yet. He jumped of the boulder and wandered around the clearing, staring at Liam, grinning. It was revelling in the moment.

Without a hint of concern, he said, “don’t fret. You can marry another one, maybe that girl from the tavern you were so intent on-” He was interrupted by Liam charging, the pitchfork raised, with nothing but rage in his eyes. Yet the wretch seemed unconcerned, even giddy at it all. He reached out ideally, grabbing Liam by the throat as soon as he was in reach. But the smirk fell from the fiend’s face as his side was pierced by the tips of the pitchfork.

He staggered from the shock, causing his grip on Liam’s throat to loosen just a bit. Enough for Liam to get a decent footing and charge ahead, stabbing the pitchfork even deeper and pushing the demon back. The fiend lost his footing and, faster than Liam could see, reached back to steady himself. But in his panic he snapped the tree branch behind him, falling onto the tree’s sharpened protrusion, which pierced his heart, sinking into his flesh with such an unusual ease.

Liam watched in powerful disbelief as the stranger grew pale, his eyes widening in such shock and terror, he almost looked human. He slipped off the broken branch, his heart wound pouring blood. Then staring at Liam with such contempt, as his life slipped away. Liam just watched, confused, but relieved at this apparent victory.

But, with what strength remained, he ran at Liam, reaching out with the same hand that had wrapped around his throat, and instead dug his fingers into his chest, wrapping around bone. He managed a weak smile before staggering back, only really bleeding from where the tree branch had pierced him, and he fell face-forward into the very stream where Mary lay. And it seemed Liam wasn’t far behind.

He began turning numb as his own blood soaked his body. And with his mind growing foggy, his memories fraying, what remained of his thoughts drifted back to Mary. He stumbled towards where he remembered she was thrown, but his sight blurred, he became too weak to stand, and he fell into the stream. He panicked as his thoughts and memories started falling apart completely, ‘Where’s Mary?! Where’s Mary!?’ “Where’s…Mary…Where’s…” He continued with this as he tried, erratically, to find her. But all he saw were trees… and him, with water running passed his corpse and towards Liam, turning red with the killer’s blood…

…When he woke it was dusk. He was soaked in watered-down blood. His head was throbbing. In fact, his whole body felt it had been ripped apart and hastily cobbled back together. He was barely conscious, but gradually all the lights lit up again. Only then did he notice the strange, metallic taste in his mouth and realise he’d been swallowing the bloody water while he was... unconscious? ‘…what the…did I… Fuck, what happened?’

His memories of the night before drip back into his consciousness and suddenly horror and grief almost knock him dead again. ‘Where’s Mary!?’ He looked for her in a panic, quickly finding her downstream, behind the monster’s rotting corpse.

‘No… you were supposed to be home. I’d apologize, we’d make amends, and I’d promise to be better, you’d choose to believe me and that would be the end of it… this can’t be real…’ He stared at her beautiful face. It was like she was just sleeping… It was too much. He wanted to walk away, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave, because that would mean saying good bye and letting the last piece of her in the world rot away, alone, in a bloody stream. He’d bury her.

He started to make his way home to get a shovel, but stopped as soon as he felt the last of the day’s sunlight touch his skin. He felt weak and by pure instinct ran back to the shadows, faster than he thought possible. ‘What…’ His body felt different. At first he’d thought it simply pain from a terrible night. But that wasn’t it. His body felt changed, reformed. He felt stronger, faster…like the monster who killed Mary.

As his head cleared his senses returned more fully, and then became sharper still. When he looked back at Mary his greater senses seemed to replace the amazing woman he’d known almost his entire life, into what was unmistakeably a corpse. The stink of rot, the degrading of flesh, its soulless eyes… Mary was dead. Then a new fear gripped Liam.

He felt around his gums, hoping to not find this last confirmation, except he did. With his fingers he found strange shapes just under the surface. They were sharp… and he started to cry.

He wasn’t human anymore. He was whatever her killer was. A monster. Sunlight left him weak as if even God had forsaken him. And he couldn’t leave the cover of those trees yet. He had to wait until night came. So he sat down. In the dirt. His arms wrapped around his knees. Sobbing. With the smell of what used to be his wife filling his nose.

As soon as night came he decided he had to leave. He was no longer concerned with burying her. It wasn’t her anymore. So he stood up and walked to the edge of the forest. Strangely, the night didn’t seem dark, but filled with starlight, as if his new eyes picked up on every luminous strand. ‘At least I can find my way, while I skulk around in the night.’

He took one last look at their home. He wished he could just go to bed. But he couldn’t. He had to leave. He felt the hunger. For blood, for violence, and death. If he stayed, he would hurt his neighbours like the monster had hurt her. He had to leave; he couldn’t even meet his neighbours in the daylight.

He wondered what they’d think had happened. Would they try to find his body? Or would they decide his absence was evidence of his guilt. Really though, he didn’t much care. He’d never see them again, and to be honest, he’d never really knew them anyway.

So he left the forest and just kept walking. He didn’t know where he was going or when he’d stop walking. Maybe not until he hit water and drowned. If he could even drown anymore…

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