Riley's Curse, A Moon's Glow Prequel (2 page)

Normally there were many sounds in the
forest: crickets chirping, birds twittering, squirrels and moles
scurrying through the brush. But right now, as the animal crouched
down closer to the ground in order to stalk its prey, the only
sound was the thump, thump, thump of my heart beating rapidly. It
echoed loudly in my ears, and I was sure the wolf heard it too.

I couldn’t help it, fear enveloped me, and I
took off running as fast as I could, knowing it was not fast
enough.

The moonlight helped guide me in the darkness
as I rushed toward the road, praying someone would come along,
causing the beast to run away. I felt him right on my heels, biting
at the back of my leg. I stumbled. My hands flew out to stop my
fall, and they dug into sharp rocks that were wedged into the rough
ground. I knew they were bleeding, but I didn’t have time to look
at them before the wolf took the opportunity to pounce. I kicked it
in the jaw with my boot. The beast fell back with a squeal. That’s
when I saw the road ahead. I gathered all the strength I could to
reach it before the monster that was biting and growling behind
me.

Just as my feet hit the dirt, I felt claws
dig into my back, and I was shoved to the ground, my face smashed
into the road. A sharp searing pain exploded in my nose, blood
dripped down my face. The taste of copper filled my mouth.

When the wolf sat up on it's rear, preparing
to feed, I took the chance to flip over. If I was going to die, I
wanted to see it coming. His muzzle hovered above me. Glassy yellow
eyes stared into mine, right before it let out a loud snarl,
exposing long, pointed teeth. It's horrid breath smelled of
death.

As the monster lowered his muzzle closer, I
squeezed my eyes shut. I felt the puffing of his breath, and drool
dripping on my face--then nothing. I waited for the pain, for the
end of my life, and for Lucy. But none of that came. When I heard
the sound of horses galloping down the road, I opened my eyes, and
the wolf was gone, scared off by the buggy that was now about to
run over me. I couldn’t get up. I was paralyzed with fear.

Once the buggy stopped, I heard footsteps
running toward me. “Are you all right sir?” A deep voice asked.

He was bent down, hovering above me, his cap
fell forward, covering his eyes, but I could tell that it was Mr.
Morgan, Henry’s father. “Nathaniel, are you okay? What
happened?”

I tried to speak, but it was difficult, still
winded from running, and shaken by what I had just seen. “It’s
Lucy,” I gasped. “An animal…attacked her.” The last few words felt
like gravel in my mouth, I didn’t want to voice them. “She’s
dead.”

“You mean Lucile, Jonathan Stewart’s
daughter?” he asked, leaning down to help me sit up.

“Yes, we were out for a walk, when a wolf
came out of the forest and attacked her. It was just about to kill
me when you came down the road and scared it off.”

His expression was a mix of terror, and
grief. Events such as this never happened in our sleepy town. “Show
me where she is. Come quickly before another animal comes after
her.”

I stood up, still feeling weak. Mr. Morgan
held onto my arm as I led him through the meadow to Lucy’s body or
what was left of it.

He released my arm, and gasped at the sight
before him. “Dear lord. What kind of animal would attack someone
like this?” We stared down at her. She was lying among the clover
and long grass. Her sapphire colored eyes were glassy and lifeless.
The pale yellow hair I had once admired was now matted with blood,
her body was mangled and unrecognizable. The necklace I had giving
her just a week before, still hung around her neck.

Breath escaped his lips as he bent down to
pick her up, it could have been another gasp or even a cry of
grief. He remained still, his eyes closed with his arms wrapped
tightly around her. Once he opened them, he stood up, and then
headed back to his carriage without another word.

I followed slowly behind him, unable to look
at Lucy’s body in his arms. She was such a sweet, funny girl only
an hour ago. Now, all that was left of her was this broken shell,
flopping about in my friend’s father’s arms. I would trade places
with her if I could. I didn’t even hear the beast approach us. It
was suddenly just there, and Lucy was dead.

Once we arrived at the Stewart’s house with
Lucy, Mr. Morgan told them the news. Her mother and sisters were
crying loudly, while her father peppered me with questions I was
too in shock to answer. Instead, I watched in silence as Mr.
Stewart hounded Mr. Morgan, after his attempts to get answers out
of me had failed.

There was a low sound in the corner. I
glanced over to see Elizabeth, Lucy’s four year old sister sitting
on the floor playing with her doll. She was talking quietly to
herself and moving the doll along the wooden floor, making it walk.
She seemed to be in her own world. Her older sisters and mother
stood beside her hugging, trying to sooth one another, but Lizzy
never looked up. I thought she was too young to understand what was
happening until I saw a shiny tear fall from the corner of her eye,
sliding down her cheek. I turned away at the sight, the ache in my
chest took my breath away, and it felt like the walls were closing
in on me.

Finally, Mr. Morgan took me home. I went
straight to my room, avoiding my parents. Once I was alone, I fell
into bed without lighting my lantern. Although our house was well
built, it wasn't sound proof, and again I had to relive the ordeal
as Mr. Morgan told my story. Even my attempt to hide under the
pillow did nothing to muffle the voices.

I just wanted to close my eyes and hope that
when I opened them again, it would all be a dream. I would get up,
and look out my window to see Lucy outside her house hanging
clothes on the line with her house maid, just like every other
Saturday.

I knew it was wrong to watch her, but she had
such delicate features, and her pale blond hair always fell in
wisps in front of her face. I loved watching her brush it back with
a giggle. Since I had been in love with her for the last year, I
always took a few moments every Saturday just to gaze at her.

Was it just yesterday that we had snuck a few
kisses at the river? And now, she was gone.

The morning sun shone through my window,
waking me from my deep slumber. I had a deep nagging feeling that
something was wrong, but I was so tired, I just wanted to go back
to sleep.

Turning away from the sun's glare I nearly
dozed off again, until Lucy’s face crept into my mind reminding me
of the horror that happened in the meadow. It all came flooding
back. The beast, her death, listening to her family sobbing and
begging for their daughter, and all the while, I wished for
death.

I lifted the coverlets, exposing blood on my
clothes, and bedding. I stood up, ripping the shirt off of me. The
buttons popped, each one fell to the floor with a tick, tick, tick.
I removed my trousers, tossing them in a clump in the corner of the
room.

I pulled the items I needed out of my
cupboard, and picked some linens and soap from the closet, sneaking
out the back door to avoid my family’s well-meaning queries. I
wanted to go to the river to bathe instead of bothering Jane our
house maid to fill the tub.

Once I reached the riverbank, I sat
everything down and pulled off my underclothes. I dove into the
water. The need to cleanse myself of that horrible night
overwhelmed me. My hands were cut and smeared with dried blood.
When I touched my nose, it was tender, and also caked with
blood.

When all my injuries were taken care of, I
scrubbed my body until my skin was raw. With every stroke of the
cloth I saw the wolf's yellow eyes staring at me hungrily. The
smell of lavender from the soap filled my sore nostrils, clearing
the image from my mind.

The water was still a little chilly. It was
early June and when my skin started to feel numb I decided to get
out.

After I dried off, dressed and went back
inside, one thought filled my mind. To get rid of every single
reminder of the event that I knew would forever change my life. I
gathered my bloody clothes from the floor of my bedroom, and rushed
into the kitchen. I hoped that if I burned all of the evidence of
last night, I would clear the guilt that was beginning to eat away
at me. My mother was helping Jane clean up after breakfast, she saw
me, and smiled sadly. “Good morning Son. Do you want me to make you
something to eat?”

I simply shook my head, and opened the
heavy iron door of the cook stove. Heat rushed out, warming my skin
instantly, the fire leaped with the sudden wash of air. I tossed
the clothes inside and watched them burn. The angry flames
enveloped the shirt and trousers. I stayed until they turned to
ash. Smoke billowed out of the stove making my mother cough. I
closed the door, but watched through the window. Through the
flame's, all I saw was Lucy's lifeless face
, making
my heart ache at the sight.
Why couldn't it have been me
that died?

I was so entranced with the vision, I vaguely
noticed my sisters rush into the room or the tug on my arm when
Mary tried to get my attention. I couldn’t look away. I should feel
better now that the clothes were gone, but I didn’t. All I felt was
guilt, so strong it ripped through my chest like a knife.

Unable to shake off my dark mood, I went
outside to the woodpile to work off my frustrations with an axe.
Physical activity usually cleared my mind, although I knew it
wouldn’t work today. I was right, the events of last night
constantly flowed through my mind. I tried to think of ways I could
have changed the outcome, but the problem was, how could I have
saved her, when I hadn't seen or heard the danger? The wolf was
silent, even when it took her life. It was my fault of course, if I
hadn't have been rattling on about college, I might have heard the
wolf and scared it away. Even as the thought appeared, I shook it
off. I knew that the wolf that stared down at me would not have
been frightened by anything.

The sun was hot with only a light breeze to
cool me down. The smell of wood and honeysuckle filled the air.

I pulled down my suspenders, and undid my
shirt when I started to sweat from the heat. As I picked up a large
piece of oak and placed it down on the tree trunk I was using as a
base, I heard footsteps coming toward me. I lifted my arms,
plunging the axe into the wood. After it split in two, I bent down
to pick up the pieces that fell to the ground.

“Are you ever going to talk to your mother or
me?” I heard my father ask. I could see him from the corner of my
eye. I didn’t answer him, still unable to speak. The images of last
night would not leave my mind.

“It might help to get it off your chest,
instead of using up all your energy with that axe. You’ve been at
it for hours without a break.”

As he spoke, I split another piece, and then
tossed them onto the pile.

He leaned against the fence waiting for a
response. I didn’t give him one. “Well, we’re here if you need us,”
he said as he walked away. My father was a very patient man and
knew that I would come to him when I was ready. But what could I
say to him? There was nothing he or anyone could do to bring Lucy
back, and that was the only thing that would help me.

I continued to cut wood for a while longer
without any interruptions, although I did see Mary, my youngest
sister leaning on the wooden fence nearby watching me. She had
always looked up to me, even now when I proved not to deserve her
adoration. I failed to save Lucy. How could she look at me with
anything but disgust?

When I could no longer lift my arms, and was
about to parish from thirst, I headed over to the well to pump
water into my hands, sipping the cold liquid from them.

After quenching my thirst, I sat on the edge
of the river where I had last met Lucy, to watch the fish swim
around. They bobbed their heads, nibbling at the bugs on the
water’s surface. This was the spot I liked to come to think when
something was bothering me. But until today I had no idea how
enormous my troubles could be. It was a beautifully warm day. The
slight breeze blew the branches of the trees above me, creating a
soothing, rustling sound. The birds chirped from a nest in the
maple tree that towered above. It was a lovely day, and I could
almost forget what happened only hours before. Until Lucy's image
appeared before me, with her feet resting in the water just as they
had two days before. Her laughter echoed in the air, mixing with
the rustling branches. When I blinked at her, the image
disappeared, and the pain in my chest returned tenfold.

“Excuse me, Nathaniel?”

I jumped at the sound of my name. I was lost
in the memory and didn't hear anyone approach. Lucy’s mother, Mrs.
Stewart stood behind me, next to a tall willow. She was wearing a
long black dress, and a wide brimmed black hat that covered most of
her pale hair. She was holding a familiar velvet box. Just the
sight of Lucy's birthday gift, filled me with dread. I took it from
her, stuffing it into my pocket, knowing without looking, what was
in it.

"I thought you might want this back," she
murmured, unable to look into my eyes.

I simply nodded, hoping to forget that it was
in my pocket. I could hide it somewhere later, so I wouldn't have
to be reminded of the night not so long ago when I had given it to
her.

She cleared her throat and squared her
shoulders, "Nathaniel," she said again, this time, with more
meaning.

“Yes?” I asked, wishing I had chosen a spot
to hide where no one would be able to find me.