Short Stories of Christoph - part 1

          As expected, Germany was nothing like the home he left centuries before. There was no war and the villages had grown into towns. The forest was still thick with conifer trees, but more people were travelling through. It felt good to be home and like walking through the gates of hell. Either way, he knew he had to come back here to find the answer, the cure.

         Christoph had been having a dark day; his thoughts held him prisoner in the past he wished to forget, a past full of death and blood. Memories of his beloved Emily and darling Caroline haunted his dreams. Both had been taken from the world before they reached their prime and both died loving him. Then there was the tragic death of his parents.

         With his thoughts full of that night, his feet carried him to the exact spot where he became the beast. Nothing made it different from any other area in the forest, but it was. Chistoph had only been nineteen in 1621, when a group of soldiers murdered his parents in front of him. It was useless to think anything different could have been done. Ridiculous to hope to wake up and find them as they were and yet that was the prevailing thought in the back of his mind. A hope that would not die over time, even as the darkness threatened to take it.

         He couldn’t stop the vision from unfolding; everything weighed him down into the void within. The soldiers had ambushed them while they were walking to the river. One soldier stood out from behind a tree with a pike, blocking the path. The others came out just behind them. His father confronted the soldiers, pushing his family towards the trees. No. He would not live this again, not even in his thoughts.

         Sensations flooded him as he shut the remaining images out. First, the weight of his father’s body as it had fallen on top of him, knocking the air out of his lungs.Then there was the blood, the warm, sticky thickness that flowed over his face, from the man that had raised him. His mother’s screams as the soldiers had found her, was the last sound he had heard before the bite of a sword went through. To say that he survived would be a lie. That was the night the curse began. Rage had compelled him to transform into a beast of vengeance and pain.

         The sound of horses nearby brought him back to the present and living. With a deep breath, he took in all the scents only an animal could pick up. A fire was blazing and there was an aroma of caraway seeds, juniper, and nutmeg. Someone is cooking. Christoph found himself walking over to where they had set up camp.

         These people lived a free life, traveling to wherever their hearts desired. Many of them would perform tricks for small fees and they’d put on shows in towns all over the countryside. He had seen a group like this before in London. They dressed unusually and acted a little strange. None of them looked alike, but they were like a family. He walked toward their caravan of wagons and the men came over to greet him.

          “Hello, does anyone speak English here?” He said to them. A few of them looked at him in confusion. One wide-chested man walked over to him, his light tan pants were tight around his legs and his chest was bare. He was all hard muscle. Again Christoph asked, “Do you speak English?”

         The big man took a deep breath, “A little,” he said with a slow deep voice. His eyebrows narrowed, like he was thinking carefully over his next words. “Hallo, my name is Brutus.” Again he paused, this time looking around at his companions. His dark browns eyes were wide and questioning. His big hand reached to rest on his bald head. “Come with me.”

         Brutus walked away and Christoph followed. A slender woman with olive skin stepped out from behind one of the wagons and grabbed him by the hand. He whirled around and gazed into startling green eyes. “Sir, you must listen to me. I know what you seek. These woods made you, they made you. Please, listen. I can help you, but you must listen.”

         Intrigued and terrified by the woman’s claims, he held a hand up to Brutus and went away with the young woman. Her red hair was dark, a shade he had never seen before, and so full of life. Did he believe in the woman’s words? No, not really. He had seen this act before in a psychic who claimed he had been an Egyptian king in a former life. The beauty of her alone struck his curiosity. The foolishness in that made him laugh.

          “Sir, you should not laugh! My gift is real.” She made her way back to a small tent behind the wagons, pulling him along. The tent was made of a heavy wool material dyed a rich purple. Silk scarves were hung on the inside and little trinkets from various places were placed all over. Two chairs, a trunk, and a small bed made up the room. She directed Christoph to sit in one chair as she took the other. The moment he sat, she stood back up again.
   
          “You said you knew what I seek, tell me about it.” He baited her, trying to find out the truth of this woman. There was no way she’d hit anywhere close to the truth, he hardly believed in what he was. How could anyone else?
   
          “This beast claws its way out of your soul.” She paced back and forth, keeping her eyes on him. His eyes widened, but he waited for her to continue. “It eats everything near and dear to you, so that nothing but the pain remains. You seek a cure, but there isn’t one. Understand that nothing can stop it from happening.”
   
          “But there must be!” He stood and yelled at her, making her cower away. A tear formed in his eye and ran down his cheek. Ashamed, he turned away and found himself face to face with his own reflection. His tan was still rich with summer warmth, making his sandy blond hair stand out even more.  He looked into his own grey eyes and found the truth had been hiding there all along. It had been silly to hope for change. Absurd to think he could find someone else like him. He turned back around to find the woman crouching behind her chair, clutching at a cross. Carefully, he wiped at his face and took his seat.  “I am sorry to have frightened you.  Please sit with me and tell me anything else you can. What is your name?”
   
           She came forward, lowering her crucifix to her side. “I am Ada,” she said, tilting her head down. When her eyes met his again, he found a fierceness that hadn’t been there before, a newfound strength.  “It’s you that makes the beast unwieldy.  Control is the key to keep the bloodlust at bay.  You must learn or everyone you come to love will die.”
     
          And there she uncovered his fear; the deaths of Emily and Caroline had been his fault. The only people to accept him, to love him had died because of him. Somewhere inside, he had known that all along, he just couldn’t admit it to anyone, not even himself. Emily had been cunning and boisterous, whereas Caroline was prim and educated for a woman of her time. They were two very different women, from the way they looked to the way that they lived and the only thing they had in common was their highly valued independence.
   
           Ada walked over and knelt beside him, placing her small hand on his upper arm. “They do not blame you for what has happened to them. I know this isn’t what you are accustomed to, but I am telling you the truth. If you can learn to control it, then everything might not be about blood. Think of it, a life without killing your dear ones.”
     
          He looked at her hand where it rested and thought about the comfort in that small touch. All these little innocuous touches that mean almost nothing to the person giving them, but to someone like him, it was everything. Especially now, she knew what he was and still she touched him. Every word she had said reached deep into his soul, and together with her touch it released some of the pain he had been holding onto.
         
         Night was approaching, the wind had become much cooler and the light of day was almost gone now. Christoph knew it was time to be on his way, but he didn’t want to be without her company. It was a struggle to be torn in so many directions. Then there was the part of him that remembered how it felt to have Emily or Caroline near. That made him want to stay even more, but he knew staying put her life in danger.
         
         “It is time for you to go. If you wish to speak again, I will be here.” She got up and turned her back to him. “I know you wish to know more about what you are, but there is only so much I can tell you. You are not the only one of your kind. Some are different, but most are trapped in the same state of aggression. They shift violently with no warning. Your anger traps you. I must protect myself, you understand.”
         
         He watched her back and knew by the way she was moving that she was fiddling with something in her hands. Although he was curious, he didn’t want to threaten her any further. Once again, he stood up. For a moment, he stared at the back of her fiery red hair, admiring her for her strength of mind. He spoke low and said, “I am sorry for frightening you earlier and I hope you can forgive me. Thank you, for your time and your gift. Without both I would be lost.”
         
         Christoph left her tent and said goodbye to Brutus before making his way back into the woods. He knew he should head deeper into the woods, but he couldn’t. Ada kept him enthralled, he wanted to know more about her and her world and at the same time, she could tell him more about his. He lingered close by to watch her.
         
         She knew he was there, he knew it from the set in her shoulders every time she left her tent and from the glances that stopped midway to his position. Hours went by as he sat and watched. Silence filled the camp as everyone settled in for the night. It wasn’t long after she had gone to sleep, that a man almost as big as Brutus snuck up to her tent and ducked in.
         
         Moments later, Christoph heard a scuffle break out in her tent then a muffled scream broke up the silence of the camp. People began to wake, but went back to sleep upon hearing no further disturbance. He felt his rage slipping, knowing she was in trouble and still he struggles to control it, to handle this as a man. He began making his way to Ada.

         The control he did have was fading and was almost gone when he made it to her. They were on the floor when he found them, the bigger man using his size to hold her down with one big hand clamped over her mouth. Though, he was thankful it wasn’t what he thought it was, this was still a problem. His hand kept slipping over her nose; she was already having problems breathing with his body smothering her. The sweet scent of fear was in the air and that made the beast hungry to escape. He could see the man was very drunk and only trying to talk to her and that helped to calm him and keep him in control. Her heart was beating so rapidly, Christoph could hear it in his head.
         
         The constant thumping combined with her appetizing fear defeated him. His back bowed as the shift began, dropping him to his knees. The man turned to stare at him with wide eyes. Ada struggled to get free, making the beast hungrier for her. He turned to her and looked her in the eye as his own began to glow as the nocturnal animal seeped in. He screamed, “Run!”
         
         In his stupor, the drunk stumbled as he tried to climb off of her. Fur began to grow in slowly covering Christoph’s body and face. Horrible crunching came from his hands as they began to morph, growing wider, fingertips curling under and growing into his palm making paws out of hands and feet. The shoes he had had on split with the pressure. His face began to go next. First the nose sank in and then his face expanded out creating a snout. Claws, at least two inches long, sprouted out of his paws. As his new furry form grew, his clothes tore and ripped from his body, unable to hide his body any longer. His back became slightly hunched and finally his legs bent and snapped into their new shape.
         
         Once the transformation was complete, he was no longer himself, but stuck somewhere inside watching the beast, unable to stop it. Ada was running through the woods, her long red hair flowing behind her like a cape, her palatable fear leading the beast right to her. She tripped over a fallen branch and fell to the ground. The beast was in the air, bounding down on top of her, when she whirled exposing her cross. Its flesh seared on contact with the silver; the pain made the werewolf tumble off into the brush on the forest floor. A patch of wolfs bane caught it, releasing the beast’s hold on Christoph. His body violently began to shift back.
         
         When it was over, he went to check on Ada. Unfortunately, it looked like the wolf had taken her throat in its initial pounce. He dropped beside her, cradling her in his arms as he wept over her loss. Everything she had known died with her and the first lead he had into what he was, was gone.