The Chess

She was no longer alone. She had not been deceived. He had indeed returned to her not only the ability to hunt, but also the ability to open her second eye. However, after the promise was fulfilled, she was in no hurry to leave. After all, why spend the night outside when there was a warm place to sleep and a plentiful supply of food nearby? She continued to hunt birds and mice, of course. It was just for fun. It was so much fun to play with them, watching them struggle and breathe heavily. At such moments, they tasted better than usual. Sometimes she let her prey go, sometimes, after playing with it, she left it to die, but sometimes, after eating the head, the most delicious part, she would bring the rest of the carcass to Him, and receive a little more affection than usual. However, the two-legged creature they lived with was too noisy and react strangely to the dead prey. It took her a while to remember the combination of sounds that He made when called her. He could have called her in a more convenient way, but for some reason He thought it was important to use a name that didn't have any hissing or purring sounds. And soon she just got used to responding to it. How could she not? As soon as she approached, she was treated to various delicious treats. He would gently touch her face and head. The warmth of His hands made me want to purr. And if you ignored the noisy two-legged creature that lived with them, and hid under the bed whenever he came too close, reaching out with his huge paws, life was pretty good. He left at dawn, leaving her food and water, and returned in the evening, when the first lights began to appear outside. Sometimes a two-legged woman would come to them, and she has the same name. She got angry when she found out that He was calling his guest, who looked at her like she was a small bug and always kicked her off the table. Yes, she had spilled some bitter liquid from a glass onto some papers. So what? That didn't mean she couldn't sit on the table? In fact, two-legged people had a lot of silly rules that they thought everyone should follow. And which they couldn't explain properly, unlike Him. They just made unnecessary noise and waved their front paws. However, one day, after the sun had set, He didn't come. Only the noisy and large two-legged creature returned, rushing towards her. She thought she would wait for him under the bed, but even the next day, when the large roommate left at dawn and returned when the lights were turned on, He did not return. His body had almost no scent, as hunters, so the smell of the roommate, which was musky and very pungent, quickly filled the room. On the third day, the only trace of the Master's scent remained on the pillow where she had curled up at night, quietly emerging from her hiding place. Until that night, she hadn't thought she'd be alone again. The next morning, the Guest arrived with a small, ugly-looking cage. She and the two-legged creature tried to lure her inside, but was failed. It's a pity that two-legged creatures are so clumsy. It's a pity for them, of course. The sun was already setting when she watched the two-legged creatures from her hiding place on a tree branch, hidden by the dense green foliage. She was being called, but she saw no reason to respond. The woman's front paw was sloppily wrapped in something foul-smelling, already soaked with her blood. The master would scold her for biting someone, but not too harshly, especially if he would found out how the woman had grabbed her by the tail in an attempt to catch her. The woman deserved it. — Maddy, we've been trying to find this little demon for hours, — the man said, straightening his back and cracking his spine. — It's getting dark. Can we continue tomorrow? — What if we don't find her tomorrow? What if she runs too far away by then? — The woman looked strange. Or maybe she was the same as always, just appearing different due to the abundance of unfamiliar scents. — We'll deal with the problems as they arise, honey, — the man said, putting his arm around her shoulders, but she quickly shrugged him off. Perhaps she didn't want to smell like him, but it was hard to tell. These two-legged creatures who called themselves humans were too strange. Who knew what was in their minds? As the humans were leaving, a gust of cool wind brought a familiar scent to her. His scent. She turned her head, sniffing, wishing she had a nose as sensitive as a dog's. But she was certain that her Master was nearby. Something moved on the edge of the roof of the nearest building. He was large and had red eyes. It didn't look much like what she was expecting, but it smelled exactly like her Master. It didn't respond to her soft "meow," but it followed the two-legged creatures who were searching for her along the roof's ledge. Maybe didn't hear her or thought she had already been captured. Climbing down a tree was always more challenging than climbing up, but she managed it quite quickly. It was difficult to follow the dark shadow on the edge of the roof. To see Him, you had to stop and look up, but that was okay. The main thing is not to fall behind and lose sight of Him. He was already lost for almost five nights! He followed a couple who were talking quietly, and then, when they parted, he followed the woman she had scratched. It was strange, but at one point, she thought he was hunting, which he had never done before. At least, she had never seen him do such a thing. Perhaps this was his first hunt. After all, humans tend to do things later in life than cats. This explained his strange behavior: he would approach the edge of the roof, sniffing almost like a dog, then step back as if taking a running start, but never jump down on the woman. There were plenty of opportunities, but He let go of his prey, who disappeared behind the massive doors of a house. It was strange. It became even stranger when the Master pounced on another prey, a two-legged creature walking down a narrow street near a dark alley. He did it so quickly that the creature didn't even have time to scream. The Master bit down on its throat, covered its mouth, and dragged it into the darkness. She really wanted to follow Him. But what if He thought she wanted to take His prey? She didn't want to hurt Him the way her sister had hurt her when she was a child, but really wanted to get closer. She wanted to rub against His ankle again, and to purr in His warm arms. She wanted to feel like she wasn't alone in a world full of noisy and angry people. The prey quickly withered in His claws. It shrank and curled like a uprooted plant left in the sun. She meowed softly as the remaining, useless carcass fell to the ground, quickly crumbling. He looked upset as he looked at it. As he picked her up and sat quietly on the ground in the deepest shadow of the alley. “The hunt was so successful, why are you upset, Master?” — She thought, licking the traces of the prey's still warm blood along with His tears from his chin and neck. He looked strange. Looked completely different from himself: his skin had changed color and was covered with some strange growths, slightly flickering like fireflies in the grass. But the Master still smelled the same and stroked her the same way, and that was enough to identify him for sure. This time, though, he hugged her tighter than usual, but that was probably just because he missed her. They did not go home for the night. Instead, He walked for a long time somewhere on the roofs of houses, and eventually climbed into an open window of some room in which there was an unpleasant smell of what people usually washed floors in corridors and rooms, destroying all pleasant and familiar smells. “Do you live here now?” — she asked, walking around every corner of the room and a couple of times picking at one of the doors of a small room with only one bed and something vaguely similar to a table. The bed and sheets smelled like Him. So this is where he's been sleeping the past few nights? It was a little alarming when the owner was engulfed in black smoke that didn't smell of anything. He looked more like himself when the smoke cleared, but he was clearly feeling worse. He scratched the exposed areas of his arms and neck, but he quickly pulled his hand away when his claws encountered strange growths. It seemed like they were hurting. He climbed onto the bed, lying on top of the covers, and beckoned her to join him. It would be foolish to refuse the opportunity to curl up beside him and purr a little to help him fall asleep faster. When the Master's breathing became even and deep, she began licking his strange, glowing wounds. The growths slowly disappeared under her rough tongue. Humans are adept at using their hands to heal themselves and others, but they often overlook the most effective cats methods.

***

In order to fix the splint at least at an acceptable level, Maddy had to tear off part of the trouser leg and one sleeve of the jumpsuit, which was not so easy to do with only a not particularly sharp stone at hand, but nevertheless it was better than nothing. It was possible to at least try to start moving, if something nearby would be suitable as a minimum support. Fortunately, a sufficiently strong-looking branch was found among the deadwood of small trees that had not survived the winter, obviously. Wasting time just sitting there waiting for her son seemed unfair to a child who had already done so much. Surprisingly, Danny always seemed like a person who was not prepared for emergency situations. In every trip, he did not leave her side, which made it easier to control the child to some extent, but on the other hand, it made her think that her son simply did not have the spirit of adventure like herself or Jack. Then again, he didn't have to be an exact replica. Slowly, Maddy began to build a fire. Digging even a small hole with her hands and a stick in the hard ground was no easy task. And lining the future fire pit with stones to reduce the risk of fire was even more difficult. Yes, she was in the forest and there were plenty of stones around, but they wouldn't come running to her call, and carrying them with broken leg one by one to the future fire pit was not a quick process. As she made her short, slow progress, she tried to look around at the same time, to get a rough idea of how far Danny had dragged her from the downed plane. She stopped often, listening to the rustling sounds of the forest. Hoped that her son would return as soon as possible, as the sun was rapidly sinking into the horizon. There was a nearby mountain stream, but no other sounds except for the rustling of the wind in the trees and the buzzing of insects. To some extent, it was for the best, because the last thing Maddie wanted to do was encounter the local animals, who were terrified out of their minds. She was almost done setting up the fire pit. She had walked a relatively long distance away from the spot they had set up, and when she heard shuffling footsteps, she hurried back. Danny was standing in a small clearing near the fire pit, his back to her. He was missing one of his sneakers, and his black hair was wet, as were his jeans. He had brought with him, two of their hiking backpacks: one was miraculously in almost perfect condition, the other looked worse but was still filled with something, and several bottles of water were attached to it with external straps. The woman's mind was slightly confused as she watched the scrawny teenager effortlessly move a weight that was obviously heavier than his own whaist. — Danny, — she called out cautiously. As he lowered both backpacks to the ground, the maroon stains on his clothes became too noticeable. — Sweetheart, what happened? Are you hurt? The teenager slowly turned to face her. She was ready to see anything: wounds, burns, or bites. But not this inhuman gaze of poisonous green eyes with bright dots of pupils that reflected the light like an animal's. The woman gasped, dropping a handful of dry bark for a fire, and stumbled on her injured leg, nearly falling before grabbing the trunk of a nearby tree. — Mom! — Danny's exclamation was filled with fear. The first thing she did when her son approached was to cup his face in her hands, looking into his eyes. They were ordinary human eyes, sky-blue and incredibly expressive. “Just my imagination,” she thought, pressing a cold hand to her hot forehead. “Just imagination.” — You're pale, — Danny said, helping her to the clearing and letting her lean on him. — You shouldn't strain yourself like that. — It's okay, — she said, sitting down next to the backpacks. — What happened to you? The teenager hesitated for a moment and hurriedly stepped aside. He didn't rush to respond, and it seemed like he didn't want to talk at all, instead focusing on sorting through the items he had managed to retrieve. He began by removing the water bottles from the most damaged backpack. He avoided making eye contact with her, as he often did when he thought he might be scolded for something. — Honey? ― she called him softly, gently touching his wrist, which made him twitch as if he had been electrocuted. — It's okay, just... — He hesitated a moment, choosing his words as carefully as he could. — ... There was dirty. It's not mine, — he replied, nodding slightly at his own jeans. He nervously tugged at the sleeves of his oversized bomber jacket, stretching them to the tips of his fingers. — How's your leg?

***

The orange disk of the sun had already disappeared halfway behind the distant mountain peaks. It would soon begin to darken, and the approaching twilight would hide her in the shadows of the trees. However, the sight of a clear line of fallen trees and the faint smell of burning suggested that there would be no one to hide from. From the top of the steep slope, which was covered only with large rocks and sparse small shrubs, she could see the place where the smoke had originated. Even from a distance, this artificial new clearing looked very bleak and quiet. At the very edge of the sky, on the opposite side of the slowly fading sun, there was a thin, dark streak of rain clouds. “I’ll have to go back in the dark if I don’t want to get my paws wet,” — the cat said to herself, tucking a strand of white hair behind a human ear that had been dislodged by a gust of wind. — “But first...” With deft and precise leaps from ledge to ledge, she began to descend closer to the interesting place, the noise from which had alarmed everyone in the Master's house during the day. But it was a false alarm. As she descended to the base of the cliff, the scent of blood became clearer, overpowering the stench of burnt plastic and fuel. There was no sign of life near or on the new clearing. Only the most mindless insects began to slowly gather around the corpses on the ground, ready to devour them and lay their eggs. “Well, it doesn’t matter. The rain will wash away this terrible stench, and scavengers and predators who haven’t been lucky with their hunting will come here. And it won’t be just you who will be eating.” — The cat snorted, swatting away the fat, annoying flies that swarmed around the corpse closest to the forest. The sight of the rotten meat had long lost its appeal, although if she had been living as she did before meeting her Master, she might not have been so squeamish. After all, no one would have had time to add rat poison to it here, in the middle of the forest and the mountains. The half of the plane that was hidden under the relatively intact tree crowns was more interesting to the Cat than the debris scattered across the rest of the clearing and the remains of bodies and tree trunks that had been pressed into the clay soil. She sneezed as she approached, as a small fly had landed on the tip of her nose, there were already many flies around. Especially near the bodies that had already been bitten, judging by the shape of some of the wounds. Compared to the bodies of ordinary passengers hanging upside down or lying in unnatural positions on the luggage racks, the body in the middle of the aisle stood out. The cat brushed away the insects from the corpse's face and peered into its glassy eyes with sharp vertical pupils. "Now I know for sure that you're also dead, little sister. And it's so foolish, how you miscalculated your strength in the fight," she said, gently closing the eyelids in a human-like gesture like Master do. It wasn't necessary, but for some reason, it seemed right to her under the circumstances. She felt the power of the master, who wanted to see what she saw. “Are there any survivors?” — he asked. She could hear his voice as clearly as if he were whispering in her ear. She shook her head no. But she couldn’t bring herself to say “No” out loud. There was a strange feeling of missing something, the kind of feeling she got when she was hunting, just before the hunter who was trying to get something from her territory shot the imaginary hare. Sniffing, the Cat caught a vaguely familiar scent of milk, which her sister must have fed the kittens earlier that morning. It was strange that none of them were visible now. She called out to them a couple of times, just in case, but all she heard was the buzzing of insects. “Come closer to that object. Yes, the one lying at the cat’s feet,” — the Master asked her. She obeyed, but as soon as she touched the object, which looked like a belt with the letter “F” engraved on a fancy buckle with claw marks, she immediately pulled her paw back and jumped away. — Hss! — she exclaimed, immediately licking the reddened skin on her fingertips. — Stupid thing, — she grumbled, getting to her feet and calling the kittens again with a slightly chirping meow. “Who are you trying to find?”, the Master asked. — Kittens, — she replied honestly. — Well, or one kitten. Someone was here, and even had a bite to eat, see? — She walked closer to the nearest partially devoured body so that the Master could see the traces of teeth. — It was definitely someone small. An adult wouldn't have taken bites out of every carcass they came across. The owner remained silent, and she continued to scan the area, stepping out of the stifling wreck, full of flies and gnats, into the fresh air. She listened to the rustling of the wind, swaying the treetops. Peered into the loose clay soil until her gaze caught a red sneaker, laced-up and wedged in the mud, part of a barely visible trail. “Kitten has decided to hide,” — the Master said with a slight chuckle. — “Can you find him, Madeleine?”

***

“At the moment, there is no information about the possible location...” The TV screen went blank unexpectedly for Jess, making her jump up from the couch in the living room. She had been glued to the TV for the past couple of hours, following the stream of not-so-optimistic information that the announcers somehow managed to present in an even more depressing manner for their own unknown purposes. Turning around, she saw her father holding the remote control. — It's midnight, Jess. You should go to bad, — he said in a distant voice, not the way she was used to hearing him. Jess silently picked up her phone from the coffee table and sat back down. But before the news page could finish loading, Jack took the phone from his daughter's hands. — Hey! — was all Jess had time to say. — Constant reading of the news won't affect the situation. We just returned home from a trip this afternoon. You need to rest, — the man said, putting his arm around his daughter's shoulders. He still saw her as a little girl who needed affection and care. — How can you sleep at a time like this?— Jess angrily shrugged off her father's arm. — Mom and Danny are God knows where. Are they safe? Are they even alive? And at a time like this, you're telling me about the importance of sleep and how tired we are from the journey?! The daughter didn't cry. She rarely cried at all, and in difficult situations, she was more likely to get angry. And Jack didn't know how to deal with angry women, even if they were small. Crying would have been a more understandable reaction for him, even though it would have been unpleasant for various reasons. Recently, it had become as difficult to communicate with his daughter as it was with Danny. ― What will reading each news item affect? ― he carefully chose his words. Much more carefully than he had in his conversation with his wife after their last major argument. He just wanted his daughter to go to bed and rest for a while. He wanted to take care of her. ― The situation won't change. At the moment if you have the opportunity to influence on it you was too tired. The girl didn't say anything. She just scowled and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest. It wasn't the reaction he'd hoped for, but it was acceptable, considering the circumstances. At least it was better than being hysterical. — Go rest. You can continue tomorrow, — he said curtly. After sitting there for a while and staring at him with a long, irritated look, Jess got up from the couch and reluctantly went to her room. She clearly wasn't going to listen to him right away, as her laptop was waiting for her on her desk. "It's a good thing I turned off the Wi-Fi," the man thought to himself, rubbing his eyes and sighing heavily. He could use a nap or at least a little rest. After hiding the TV remote in one of the many kitchen cabinets, along with his daughter's smartphone, Jack made his way up to the second floor, stopping at the closed door of his son's room on his way to the bedroom. It had been a while since he had visited his son without any particular reason, just to talk and spend time together. Danny was at the age where he could be engaged in discussions about complex topics, but he rarely showed interest in such conversations. In fact, whenever the subject of research came up, Danny would try to escape from him. Behind the door, the room was just an ordinary boy's den, except that it was a little tidier: only half of the desk was cluttered with small items, and only a couple of t-shirts hung on the back of the bed, not a half of the closet. Otherwise, it even reminded Jack of his own half of the room in the university dormitory, except that he preferred to decorate the walls with paranormal posters rather than abstract drawings and photographs of celestial bodies. However, this was a minor difference, if he thought about it. The man's gaze was drawn to a black-and-white photograph on a shelf. Two women were depicted against a height scale, one of them being a regular-sized woman, while the other was a true giantess. It seemed to be a part of Danny's last year's family tree report, which he had decided to prepare with Maddie, having categorically rejected his stories about the Salem witch trials, unlike Jess. It was strangely disappointing to admit to himself that his son was more mama boy than his own. On the other hand, their relationship didn't work out from the start. Even as a baby, Danny would start crying if anyone other than his mother tried to hold him. He never seemed to enjoy spending time with him. When they went fishing, Danny often ignored his father's attempts to tolk with him, preferring to stare at the bobber in silence. Even during the most innocuous activities, Danny would turn pale as if he were being led to his execution. However, this behavior was perhaps justified by the events that Danny did not like to talk about. As he left his son's room, Jack closed the door behind him and slapped himself on the back of the neck. For some reason, he felt like he was being touched by the disgusting legs of an insect. Jess's light was still on, but he didn't want to approach her again. He didn't want to unnerve her or make the situation any more tense than it already was. The bedroom seemed empty. Usually, at this time, Maddie would be sitting on her side of the bed, reading a book, or at the desk, making notes and planning naxt day. Usually, when his wife and son were away, he didn't pay attention to such details, but today was definitely a special occasion. No one could even give a rough idea of what happened to the plane, except that there was a minor technical issue at the beginning of the flight that had nothing to do with the aircraft itself. However, most news outlets reported that this was just a cover-up for a larger and unknown problem with the airline. There were also those who linked the missing plane to a body found at the airport where it had departed on its last flight. No matter how wild the conspiracy theory sounded, the man couldn't bring himself to dismiss it as completely unfounded. Lying on his back with his eyes closed, he imagined possible scenarios. From the maniac who planted the body, who escaped on a departing flight and decided during the flight that he had nothing left to lose. To the supernatural something that slipped into the airport and boarded the plane from the nameless corpse of a black girl. The wall clock ticked steadily in the room. It was a pleasant sound to think to before going to sleep. It was a pleasant sound to fall asleep to, when the mind began to get lost in thoughts and gradually fade away. But this time, the oppressive thoughts, which were darker than the previous ones each time, did not hurry to leave his head, unlike the clicks of the second hand. He became quieter and quieter, as if he were moving away. Jack felt his body growing heavier, his toes losing feeling, his heart slowing down, but sleep still wouldn't come. He breathed deeply in and out through his open mouth. The clicking of the second hand became quieter and quieter, until it stopped altogether. “The batteries went out just in time,” — he thought, opening his eyes and staring wearily at the dark ceiling. — “I should replace them.” The batteries were right there in the bedside table. It wouldn't be difficult or time-consuming to get up and replace them, since he wasn't asleep anyway. But he couldn't get up. His body was heavy and numb to the point where he could barely feel his fingertips. “I can’t move,” — a terrible thought awakened his mind, but not the rest of him. His heart was still beating calmly, his breathing was slow, and his head was desperately short of oxygen. No amount of mental effort could make him move even a single finger. All Jack could do was moved his eyes. There was a creaking sound from the side. Out of the corner of his eye, the man noticed how the bedroom door opened, but he didn't see anyone coming in. He didn't hear any footsteps. Jack squeezed his eyes shut tightly. It was the only action he could take at the moment. He had only heard stories about sleep paralysis from his college or university friends. However, he had never experienced it firsthand. Jeremy Fenton's writings described a similar condition that he observed in one of his children, which he described as a type of obsession that required special attention. He was prepared for something like this to manifest in his children, or at least in his wife, but not in himself. He was certain that his work and safety measures had completely shielded him from such nonsense. His breathing became heavier, as if a concrete slab had been placed on his chest. Jack opened his eyes. Something black and small was sitting on his chest. It didn't even have a clear shape, let alone a face. The only thing visible in that darkness were its eyes. They were large and expressive, reflecting the flames of hell. The thing didn't do anything to him; it just sat there silently, its legs curled under it like a night demon from an old painting. The wall clock was still silent. There was a perfect silence all around, as if Jack's ears were stuffed with cotton. The demon on his chest was doing nothing. It was just sitting there, staring straight into his soul with its fiery eyes, as if trying to illuminate all his sins. It wasn't threatening, it wasn't talking, it wasn't doing anything that Jeremy Fenton had described in his works. But that only made it worse.

***

Danny was walking around without shoes. After losing one of his sneakers, the teenager had decided that he didn't need them anymore, and now the remaining shoe was lying next to a nearby tree, one of the four trees they had used to set up their tent from rain. Maddy thought her son's decision was reckless, as there were plenty of things in the forest that could injure his feet, such as sharp rocks, thorns, broken branches, and even bugs and snakes. However, Danny remained silent, dismissing her concerns. Looking at his bare, dirty feet in the firelight, she noticed that they were not only rough, as is often the case with people who walk frequently and for long periods of time. The teenager's jeans were barely long enough to cover his ankles, making them look almost comically short. “It’s amazing how quickly you’ve grown. Just half a year ago, these jeans were dragging on the ground,” — Maddy’s thoughts were extremely scattered as she stirred the canned beans in the tin can, warming them over the fire. The cool breeze was too much for her legs, which she carefully tucked under one of the surviving sleeping bags. The cold contrasted sharply with the heat on her forehead. It's difficult to say whether she was experiencing chills because she had a cold, or if it was simply a result of the prolonged pain from her broken bone. — What's up? — Danny asked, catching her long stare. — Nothing, — she tried to smile as the teenager placed a pile of brushwood and broken branches under the tarp and sat down across from the fire, out of reach. He had been keeping his distance since she had woken up, and it seemed like he was getting further away with each passing minute. — Do you want some? —she offered her son a can of warmed beans. In response, Danny shook his head and, pulling his legs up, wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his head on them, staring into the fire. In the dim light, his blue eyes reflected the yellow and orange flames with greenish hues. It was a simple physics of color, but it had an unsettling effect. — This weekend is definitely not going the way I planned, — she said, the few bites that made it past her lips left her feeling nauseous. Maddy set the beans aside. — Yeah, — the teenager drawled almost lazily. Somewhere in the distance, there was a giant nightjars cry, so similar to the otherworldly wail of a mythical something, but Danny didn't even flinch. Previously, the woman had thought that in some unconventional situation, her boy wouldn't be as calm as she saw him now. — Mom, — he called softly. — Yes, my dear? — Maddy said, trying to make her voice as gentle as possible. ― You used to tell stories about the forest. Can you tell me something similar now? ― The request seemed strange and even inappropriate to some extent. ― Are you sure you want to listen to horror stories right now? ― She clarified. It wasn't that she minded, but something inside her told her that what Danny had asked wasn't the most appropriate thing to say in their situation. — Scary stories won't make things worse than they already are, — a brief smile flashed across the boy's face. One that no mother could say no to.

***

In any forest, there are areas that no one is allowed to enter. The old-timers in the village used to say that when there was no wind in the forest, when the trees were so dense that no sunlight couldn't touch the ground, and the air was as cold as winter, it was time to turn back and run. Run as fast as you can. After all, you the hapless traveler has just reached the edge of another world, the Dead Forest, where there is no place for humans. Brother and Sister lived in this village. Each of them could do everything the other couldn't do. But they had a common flaw: they were always fighting to see who was better. There wasn't a day when Brother and Sister didn't compete and satisfy their own vanity when one of them managed to defeat the other. One day their argument went too far and they decided to find out who was the bravest of them. Brother was sure that he should take the title of the bravest. After all, there is no one braver than a man who is ready to engage in battle with violent neighbors in order to protect his loved ones and show violent neighbors that you should not mess with them. Sister said was the bravest. After all, there is no one braver than a woman who is able to keep her cool at the sight of other people's wounds and continue to help wounded men who wept in pain like children. They argued for a long time, and no one could separate them. They decided to determine the bravest by a test. Each of them had to go into the forest and reach the edge of the living world. Not only did they have to find the Dead Forest, but they also had to prove that they had been there. They had to bring back something that would definitely prove that they had not been cowards and had indeed been in the World of the Dead. No matter how much the villagers tried to dissuade them, no matter how much they tried to convince them that a silly argument was not worth the risk, they were unsuccessful. After getting everything they needed, Brother and Sister set off on their journey and soon parted ways. Brother walked all day and all night without stopping, until one day he realized that all the birds had fallen silent. The silence was so complete that it made his ears ring. Not only were there no birds or insects, but there was not even any wind. He continued on his way, and soon the daylight began to fade. The canopy closed over his head like a green blanket, blocking out all the sunlight, and it was so dense that he couldn't see a single leaf. It was cold as winter all around. A thick fog covered the ground and the trunks of the trees with frost, forcing the man to wrap himself more tightly in his fur coat before continuing his journey through the icy mist. Here and there, a tall, thin shadow flashed between the ghostly outlines of the twisted trunks, blending with the thinness of the surrounding trees. On the second day of the journey, the man became tired and decided to stop for the night. He chose a small clearing, stretched a red woolen thread around the perimeter, and built a fire in the center of the circle, preparing a place to sleep. The edge of the Dead Forest was always shrouded in darkness, cold, and fog. While Brother was cooking dinner over the fire, he heard his sister's voice. — I'm all lost, Brother. I'm cold and tired, — she wept. — Let me by your fire to warm myself and to eat. The man was delighted: ― You admit that you lost? You admit that I am the most fearlass? — I admit it, — the girl's voice replied from the fog. She was crying and her teeth were chattering from the cold as small snowflakes began to fall from the sky. — You are the strongest and the bravest. Untie the red thread. Let me near the fire. Brother became wary. — Step over the thread yourself, — he said. — Then you can warm yourself. A girl's crying was heard from the fog. So bitter and sad that the man's heart ached. — I can't, — the girl sobbed. — I'm wounded and ill. Come out to me and lead me to the fire. I'm in so much pain and fear, alone in this dark. Brother reached for his bow and arrows. The dense green canopy darkened in an instant, and the clearing became as dark as a winter night. The fire did not reach beyond the red thread that the man had used to protect himself from the Dead World. He peered into the darkness, and then he saw two green eyes glowing faintly like embers. The man drew his bowstring and shot an arrow into the darkness. The thing that had pretended to be his sister howled in pain and did not bother Brother again until dawn. In the morning, he found traces of green blood and a broken arrow at the edge of the clearing. He took the arrow with him, hid it in his bag, and headed home. It was a long journey. He stopped occasionally to check on his precious trophy. He couldn't wait to see his sister's jealous expression. When Brother returned to the village, he shared his story with everyone and showed them the arrow covered in green blood. However, his joy was short-lived. Unlike him, Sister did not return from the forest after a day, a week, or an entire season. All the hunters in the village searched for her, but they were unable to find her or her remains. Some people said that the girl was simply eaten by hungry animals, while others believed that when she entered the Dead Forest, she got lost in the thick fog and simply couldn't find her way back to the World of the Living. Brother grieved for a long time and blamed himself for losing his sister because of a stupid argument. Thus passed the long winter. Spring came and with the first birds, the Sister who had disappeared almost a year ago returned to the settlement. But she was not alone. She carried a baby with green eyes that burned like coals.

***

Danny didn't get much sleep that night, just dozed off, listening to his mother's slightly raspy breathing. Phantom was still silent. It hadn't made a sound since they boarded the damned plane. It seemed that even the peculiar meal had gone unnoticed. Usually, the teenager could sense its anger when he lost his temper. He could feel his fingertips glowing and the nearby objects covered in a subtle layer of frost when his emotions got the better of him. He really wanted to blame everything on the Phantom. Wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't capable of such a thing. But the memories of how delicious Sam looks like when Danny was starving kept him from fully immersing himself in this comforting illusion. The wrist watch showed it was half past four in the morning when the echo of a distant thunderclap reached his ears. — This is getting worse, — he muttered to himself. The fire was almost out. After throwing the last of the twigs on it, Danny brushed off his jeans from the fallen leaves and pine needles that clung to them, and went to look for some dead wood to keep the fire going for a while. Now that he had gotten rid of the deflector, he could leave. He could use his powers again, but he couldn't take his mother with him. The touch of her hands left a burning sensation on his skin and a slight weakness in his body. “Even if we try, there’s no guarantee that I won’t get tired and want more food along the way,” Danny thought, pausing for a moment and slapping his cheeks to wake himself up. — Pull yourself together, — he told himself. — You just need to figure out how to remove your mother's belt, and then... Then... He had a hard time imagining what would happen next. What was he going to do? Transform right in front of her and play the hero who would save them? Okay, but then what? What would happen when they got home? What would his father say? How would his mother react when she realized how much he resembled the mythical creature from the old fairy tale? Was this otherworldly creature a part of him since birth? A monstrous unknown something that lures you into a dark forest, imitating the voices of your loved ones who are begging for help. Danny froze, clutching a bundle of twigs and deadwood, which he could easily break with his otherworldly strength. Dirt and moss were caked under his fingernails, and the blood from yesterday's "dinner" was still visible under his cuticles, which he had not been able to fully wash off. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, causing his vision to blur. “Stop it!” — He raised his face to the sky, trying to keep the first tears from rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn’t suppress a sob. — “Think about how to help your mom. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” — He wiped away the moisture on his eyelashes with the sleeve of his bomber jacket and continued gathering firewood. A drop fell on a dry branch that he had just broken off from a massive fallen tree. However, it was not the rain that had arrived sooner than expected. When he returned and began carefully and quietly stacking the firewood under the awning, his mother finally woke up. Rubbing her sleep-heavy eyes, she seemed to be trying to figure out where she was for a long time. Her flushed cheeks and the noticeable heat emanating from her body did not bode well. — It's still very early, — Danny whispered. — You better get some more sleep. — You sound like I'm the one who just turned sixteen, not you, — she said, trying to make light of the situation. But her attempt at humor was forced and stilted. Maddy cleared her throat, reached for a bottle of water, and drank it as if trying to quench a burning sensation inside her. Danny silently took a miraculously intact camping water filter from his meager supplies. Taking the empty bottle from his mother's hands without accidentally touching her, he squatted down next to her and asked: ― How are you feeling? — Better than it could have been, — the woman replied, awkwardly having tried touch his cheek. — I'm going to get some water, — Danny said, hurrying away from her. It was more painful than he had expected to see his mother's puzzled expression after he had avoided her usual affection. It didn't take long to reach the water. The fast-flowing mountain stream seemed to have widened since yesterday. Perhaps it was raining where it originated, filling the river. The water flowed slowly through the filter, dripping into the bottle. Through the distant rumble of thunder, Danny noticed another sound approaching rapidly. The sound of an engine, the screeching of branches and rocks under the wheels. A couple of minutes later, two ATVs with massive wheels and a white cat perched on one of steering wheel the tracks emerged from the trees on the opposite side of the river. Judging by the dirt and leaves plastered on the drivers' helmets, they had come a long way. — I didn't expect to see you here, Daniel, — Masters said as he removed his helmet and looked at the teenager, his gaze lingering on the boy's bare feet and blood-stained jeans for a moment longer than necessary. — Maddie mentioned that you were planning to spend some time outdoors, but it seems that things have gotten out of hand. He was the same as always: an unchanging source of pompous aristocracy that the boy was incredibly happy to see. Vlad disembarked from the transport and headed straight towards him across the waters of the river, not afraid to get his feet wet and leaving his companion with the cat on the other side. Dropping an almost full bottle with a filter from his hands, Danny rushed to his mentor with a hug, almost dropping both of them into the cold waters of the mountain river. Vlad did not like hugs. Tried to avoid close contact with others, but this time he hugged him back, patting his back soothingly.

***

It was dark because of the terrible weather. A light rain turned into a downpour with thunderstorms. They reached the mountain chalet soaked to the bone. On the table next to them lay the remnants of the anti-ghost belt, which could not withstand such an abundance of moisture and shorted out so that the charge affected not only Maddie, but also Vlad, with whom she was traveling. The thunderclap that struck very close muffled the woman's painful moan. No matter how good Vlad was at first aid, simple painkillers wouldn't be enough to realign the bones without any discomfort. — Sorry, — Vlad said without changing expression. His composure had been a hallmark of his since college. "It's nothing," Maddy said, brushing her wet bangs back with her fingers and sitting up a little higher on the pillows. She felt awkward in the clean and dry clothes she was wearing, constantly adjusting the hem of her robe on her lap. She watched the man's hands carefully as he applied an unusual cast to her ankle, which hardened within a few minutes and looked more like a delicate piece of jewelry than something that would be offered to patients in a typical clinic. "Is this one of your inventions?" she asked, nodding towards her own leg. — Yes. If it becomes uncomfortable, just tell me. I'll adjust it, — Vlad finished treating her leg and moved closer to Maddy, touching her forehead with the back of his hand. — How are you feeling? — Better than it could have been, — she breathed out wearily. — It's a good thing that your hidden residence is in the same remote area where our plane crashed. — It's an amazing coincidence, — the man smiled, examining the small wound on the woman's temple, which was quite small and had already formed a scab. — I don't think there's anything to do with your head at the moment, but it's better to get a CT scan at the hospital just to be on the safe side, — he paused for a moment, looking directly into the woman's eyes. — And I hope you won't sue me later for providing medical assistance without a license. — What do you take me for? — Maddy assumed a comically offended expression. As Vlad packed up all the unused supplies, Maddy became quiet, watching his meticulous actions. The sharp pain in her leg became more of a dull ache, with a slight throbbing sensation at the injured site. A lightning bolt struck nearby, causing a deafening crack that made her ears ring. The lights flickered for a fraction of a second. — Calling home is definitely a no-go, — the woman sighed. In this weather, only the most fearless would use their phones, and given all the bad luck they'd had since their departure, it was definitely not worth the risk. — I'm sure it won't be long, — Vlad stood up, picking up a small medical bag. — But it gives you time to get yourself together and rest, and think about what you're going to say, right? Maddy nodded. She avoided making eye contact with him, focusing instead on her own leg, as if examining the simple grid pattern on her cast. Her face was painfully pale, making her freckles stand out even more prominently on her cheeks, which were flushed with fever. Masters lingered on the curve of her neck for a longer than necessary, unwittingly captivated by the way the blood pulsed in her vein. Her skin smelled of rain and the forest, but it couldn't overpower the subtle sweetness that was more like candied, sour wild berries. It was a somber combination for her vibrant personality. A small leaf was stuck to his hair, which he carefully removed. — I'll have one of the maids show you to the bathroom and help you if you need it, — Vlad broke the awkward silence first and was about to leave when Maddy stopped him by grabbing his wrist with her cold fingers. There was too much in her dark blue eyes with a purple rim that he couldn't read. — I just want to say thank you and... a lot of other things, actually, — her voice was a little hoarse. — We didn't part on the best of terms in the past. — I said a lot of bad things back then, if that's what you're referring to, — the scent of powdered violets filled the air. It was the scent of sincerity and the desire for happiness. The scents of blood were the only thread that allowed Vlad to gain some understanding of what lay beneath Maddy's closed mind. The woman's fingers loosened, releasing his hand, but he would still feel a phantom touch on his wrist for a while. At least until the scent of her skin faded away. For years, he had tried to forget about her and their last conversation, which seemed to sever all ties to the past. All bridges were supposed to be burned, and all feelings were supposed to be destroyed. — I often lie not only to others, Maddy, but also to myself, — Masters stopped at the archway of the hall, turning around and catching the woman's slightly surprised gaze. — But I never believed in that lie. Outside the window, lightning flashed again with a wild crash. The lights went out for a brief moment, and when the room was lit again, Maddy was alone. If his heart worked the same way as ordinary people's, it would probably already be aching from the frequency with which it banged against his ribs. Feelings are essentially an atavism that only gets in the way in an incredible number of aspects: in business, in plans, in communication, and in life, for that matter. In theory, his thoughts should have been filled with nothing but calculating his own benefits from the current situation. The boy is at his complete disposal, and his mother is not a significant obstacle at the moment, but... The sight of the teenager huddled in the corner of the small guest room was too much to bear. The boy was sitting on the floor by the bed, his face buried in his knees, still wearing the bloodstained clothes he had been wearing. The air was faintly tinged with the smell of salt. “No more hugs, you said,” — he thought, remembering how the child had thrown himself at him a few hours ago. All his plans had been shattered long ago, and it was all because of his emotions. It was hard not to be swayed by a sincere soul, especially when he had become too attached to it. Who could have predicted that honesty would be so easy to overcome? Vlad sighed, pushing aside his feelings of disappointment in himself. Leaving the first aid kit on the table by the door, he walked over and got down on one knee in front of the teenager. — How are you? — he asked, gently touching the boy's shoulder. Danny looked up at him with red eyes. The tracks of tears were clearly visible on his dirty face. Despite his brave demeanor in the remote mountain forest, the events of the past few days had clearly taken a toll on him. Vlad's heart went out to the child, whose haunted and lost gaze reminded him of his own past, where he often saw a similar expression in the mirror every morning. — How's Mom? — Danny wiped his face with his sleeve, controlling the tremor in his voice as much as he could. — Better, — Vlad replied curtly. — She's going to take a shower. You should too, — he added, not very tactfully. The boy looked down at himself, focusing on the blood stains on his jeans. There was no hungry spark in his eyes, as there had been after his failed visit to the Ghost Zone, and given everything he had seen through the cat's eyes on the plane, it might have meant much. Danny had considered himself human just the previous year, growing up in a family that did not consider the undead to be worthy of life and actively instilled in him a very specific view of the world, where, from a human moral standpoint, many things were not allowed. To what he obviously did. ― Or maybe you want to talk first? ― Vlad tried to choose his words carefully. — I regret that I listened to you and started learning to think of myself as a whole person, — Danny said, absentmindedly picking at a small hole in the cuff of his bomber jacket. — Would it be easier to think that what you don't like about your own behavior and feelings is someone else's fault? — Vlad asked, sitting down next to the child. Although the teenager was already sixteen years old, and his blood had lost its childish scent long before, he still seemed like a child. Small, vulnerable, and lost. — Yes, — Danny replied. — I didn't think my father's deflector would hurt us like this. I didn't think I'd want to eat so much after all this. I... — His voice trailed off. Masters put an arm around his shoulders. At one time, he himself missed such a gesture very much. No comforting words of sympathy, no help, which no one was able to give him anyway, namely this. Just to have someone besides the cat around. — I'll have to eat meat for the rest of my life, knowing that if I don't, someone I know will end up on my plate, — Danny said, his thoughts jumbled and hurried, his emotions overflowing into occasional hiccups. — Maybe even someone close to me. There's nothing I can do about it. My father was right - ghosts are monsters, and I've become one of them. Tears began to flow down the boy's cheeks. He lowered his eyes again, hugging his knees tighter. Moss was stuck under his fingernails, mixed with earth and blood particles, which the child was obviously unsuccessfully trying to wipe off his hands in the cold water of a mountain stream, and he was thirsty from the excess of bitterness in the air. Vlad was still silent, lightly stroking Danny's shoulders. — The worse part is that it was clearly there inside me before I entered that damn portal. Am I right? — There was nothing but despair in his blue eyes as he looked at him again. — You remained a vampire after what the portal did to you, not becoming something else. — I don't have an exact answer, Daniel, — the boy won't accept an obvious lie, and it won't be possible to completely avoid the painful truth, but it was worth trying, at least for now. — As far as I know, there's only me and you. And that's not enough to know for sure. ― My dad is a good hunter, and he always chose me for his tests. Maybe he didn't know for sure that something was wrong with me from the beginning. But he definitely sensed it. It would have been better if I hadn't been released from the Iron Maiden. Instead of answering Danny, Vlad just sighed. "You used to try to convince me that you were just joking," he thought, allowing the teenager to snuggle closer to him. There were too many thoughts in his head, but one of them was the least appealing: "Does Maddie know, and is she involved?"