Chapter 2: Cabin
Chapter 2: Cabin
[Roux]
My voice came in whispers, eyes shut and not wanting to see the monster that would end my life. But the low growl emanating from the beast caught my attention, peeling my eyes in horror as I came to stare directly into the glowing pair of red eyes. The fire around us reflects the rage burning on its gaze.
I take in its form in crippling fear, my body involuntarily shaking like a leaf. Having no idea what to make of the creature that looms right in front of me. A chimeric combination between a human form and a wolf. Like it was cursed to stay in between. But definitely stripped off any traces of humans in it. A bi-pedaled that stood in its hind legs, a wall of brick muscles noticeable beneath its obsidian fur. My gaze dragged up into its monstrous head of a wolf. It stood a couple feet taller than me.
It growled, huge mouth peeling to show rows of razor sharp teeth that could rip me to shreds if it chooses to. Sauntering too close to my comfort. The smell of ash and damp earth and a hint of blood. Did it kill anyone? If it does, then who?
Dread coiled right into the pit of my stomach thinking it could be someone I know.
That, I at least can make sure that it wasn’t Lotte. Esme has taken her away before the beast arrived.
“Adite’s mercy, please fall upon me,” my voice trembled in whispered prayer. Begging the deity to bless me with a painless death as I stare into death itself.
Though, my prayer was cut short when the beast raised its arm.
Black claws.
Bloodied tip claws raised into the air, poised to descend on me.
I braced myself for the pain to come. Expecting the sharp tip of the beast’s wrath slicing into my flesh and ripping me into ribbons.
This is it.
However, that didn’t come. Instead ropes that bound me into the stake cut loose, freeing me.
What… confusion barely registered in my head.
My legs immediately gave out, but before my knees hit the ground, a large arm swept me by the wait, hauling me up into the air, and the next thing I knew, I was slumped into its broad shoulders. Trapping a scream out of me as my lungs squeezed with air.
The next thing I know, everything went dark.
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The smell of herb incense tickling into my senses when I started to come around. Mingling with the aroma of pine and cedar, and earthly wood scent lingers in the air. The sound of babbling water caught my attention long before I slowly coaxed my eyes to peel open.
Immediately remembering everything that happened last night, my body jolted awake, expelling the last bit of sleep out of me. Frantically scanning my surroundings, I was half expecting to wake up in a cave full of human bones, or something.
That is if I will ever see the sunlight again.
Which, by some miracle I just did. Though, what I was not expecting was to wake up inside a cabin made from logs of oak trees. With moss starting to cover right from the bottoms, the walls fashioned from exposed logs, crafted intricately from hand-hewn timber. Right adjacent from the centerpiece bed was a square window, awning with only an arm thick piece of wood keeping it ajar and allowing the natural morning light to bask the entirety of it.
Beneath me were soft layers of woven fleece blankets and a couple of plumped pillows, which is still imprinted with the impression of my head.
Swiveling around, my legs swing right to the edge, the pad of my feet tickled by the warm bear skin sprawled across the wooden floorboards. The massive pelt is meticulously preserved and arranged with care. Ignoring the cozy sensation that settled deep inside me, I still couldn’t shake the fear hovering at the back of my neck.
The beast.
How in the rings of hell did I end up here?
Did someone save me?
But who?
Who in their right mind would go against the beast?
And most of all, where in Crasmere am I?
Ignoring the foreboding sensation that seemed to start taking over me, I stood up, making my way to the door-less entryway, separated only with deep green drapery. Sweeping the heavy material aside, I came directly into a small living room. Same as the room I came in, everything about this place is made out of wood. A large stone fireplace nestled against one wall, standing as the heart of the room. A pot hanging low into the fire, its content boiling.
The smell wafting into the air is enticing enough to make my stomach growls, but not knowing what its contents made me lose my appetite.
My attention went to the single sofa facing the fireplace, connecting into the kitchen. A sturdy small dining table complemented by mismatched chairs, standing as a focal point between the area. Also, I noticed that a wooden bowl was already set on top of it along with a tin glass and a spoon.
Was the person living here prepared for me?
Just at the thought that someone is indeed living here, a distant hacking sound snagged my attention outside. As though someone was chopping wood. The door was already open, which means that I am not a prisoner in this place.
Sighing out of relief, I followed the sound outside, my feet sinking subtly into the soft dirt as I rounded into the backside of the cabin. One thing I noticed, we are in the middle of the forest. Tall and gigantic trees surrounding us, straining my neck with their impossible height.
The hacking continued louder and louder as I came closer.
Right by the babbling brook was a man. Firm in his hand was a machete, wielding it perfectly. His movements are fluid and deliberate as he expertly cleaves through the logs. The sound of his massive blade meeting the wood echoes through the forests. Punctuating the serene ambiance with a steady resolute rhythm.
The man’s muscles rippled with each blow. Beads of sweat glistened against the sunlight on his broad back, evidence of the physical exertion as it ran down to his tanned skin and disappeared right below the band of his breeches that hugged his thin waist perfectly.
Who is he?
As though I utter those words aloud, the man stiffened for a moment. His machete suspended above the air as his head immediately snapped towards my direction.
“Hi,” a squeak left my lips with my heart clamored inside my chest.
Damn Roux! Get yourself together.
Slowly, he lowered the machete, though did not drop it as he walked closer to me.
The back of my head screaming to run.
Run and never come back, however, my feet were glued deeply into the ground, seemingly forgetting their functions watching him saunters.
I swallowed, eyeing the weapon in his hand.
One sweep.
It will only take one sweep to cut my feeble neck off my shoulders if he wanted to. The thought made my blood run cold and my body immediately shiver despite the warm sun cascading down on us.
This man—stranger stares into me with a blank face set on his defined, well-groomed beard framing on his enigmatic chiseled feature. Pair of emerald orbs boring into my dull chocolate ones. His thick brows pulled together, coming into a complete stop, too close to my personal space that I had to take a step back away from him.
He’s so tall. Towering above me like a giant, taking even the air I breathe.
Just like everything else around here.
The top of my head barely even reaches his chest.
Awkward silence wrapped around us and each passing seconds his eyes burning on me felt like I am an ice melting right in the middle of a winter’s night.
“Um…” the sound fell out of my lips, my brain seemingly unable to find the right words on how to start a conversation.
Hell! What am I supposed to say?
Well, Roux, you could have started by introducing your name. Or you could have asked him how he got you away from the beast. Also, a single thank you would be nice. But no, I feel like an idiotic fish out of the water, gaping at this behemoth of a man.
Damn.
Then without a single word, he raises his machete, and I swear I saw my soul leap out of my body for a second thinking that he would chop my head off with it. But instead, he slings the massive blade on his shoulders and with his free hand, he reaches for my hair.
It made me motionless, my breath catching right on my throat, my heart galloping a thousand miles a minute. His large fingers gently glide through the tangled mass of my hair. For a huge man, his hand delicately on my hair, looking with utter fascination as he gracefully untangled the locks. The tender sensation racked me up, so calm yet wrecking havoc inside me.
This feeling is so foreign.
I lived my life hiding my hair from everyone, and the first time the townsfolk saw it, they persecuted me into burning me alive.
Yet, this massive intimidating man right here seemed untroubled by the color, in fact he looked amazed. His fingers running into the tips of my hair, letting it softly fall back into my shoulders with his gaze riveted into mine.
Not saying a single word ever since, he walked past me and headed inside the cabin as though he did not just catch my breath seconds ago.
My feet suddenly found their usage and instinctively followed his stride. The gears on my brain somehow turn and beg me to ask the question.
“Hey! What’s your name?”