A monstrous wolf, with the fur of darkness and eyes of white-blue death, chases me through the bitter landscape of ice and snow and wintered trees. My heart races as my legs run as fast as it can, my eyes darting in all directions, hoping to find a place to hide. I want to stop and rest; my chest is tightening as my muscles seize up, cutting off my breaths.
I dare not look back at the wolf, surely a loyal dog of Lucifer, the Devil, God’s once-favorite son. I can hear its pants and the pounding of its feet as it crashes through the ice and snow, its weight crushing them. Its eyes haunt me; they belong to the beings lingering between life and death, more dead than alive, although the glistening in them tells me that its vision is not lost, and I was its focus. It is as if this demon-like creature is responsible for all the vision loss, stealing the sight of the God-fearing men for its own purpose.
Hurry!! Don’t let it catch you!!
I change directions, running on narrower trails, but I can feel it closing in on me, the space between us decreasing. A wisp of cold on my neck and my hair rises in fear at the bone-chilling frost, often likened to that found before Hell’s gates, presenting a falsity about what truly lies behind while hiding the fire and brimstone which would melt a hell-bound soul’s renewed flesh over and over again.
I don’t want to be dragged to the depths of hell by this monstrous wolf-hound creature, and I try to run faster, but my feet start to slow down soon. This is surely the devil’s handiwork. I look down. The roots of the trees are alive and breathing, and they wrap around my feet, trapping me in place for the wolf to catch me between its fangs, as sharp as the soldiers’ daggers. I fall into the snow, awaiting my fate, and the tree’s roots secure themselves tightly around my ankles, preventing my escape.
My heart slows as the snow flurries floating down from the sky, empty of God’s presence, halt their descent, not joining their brethren on the ground. The only sound I hear besides my noisy gasps as I struggle to take in air is the crash of the giant paws that soon come to a halt just behind me. Again, I feel the direct rush of air on my back, this time loud and warm like the breath of an unwanted mutt in an old alley. Rancid like the rotten, poisoned meat, it is foul and disgusting and nearly makes me faint, but I hold myself still, the fear of death wrapping its arms around me.
Stay calm… stay calm, knowing I am doomed as I assure myself. I take a quick breath, choking on the cold. The air is harsh and cruel to my lungs and stings my eyes. Tears fall in self-pity over my situation. I rail and question the existence of God and feel guilty in my heart for doing so. Why has God not come to save me from the wolf and the devil? I have just been baptized. I need to be protected.
I squeeze my eyes shut, tears pouring down my cheek in streams of helplessness. I crawl away as a last-ditch effort, but the slippery ice makes it difficult to get a firm hold and the roots keep me still. It is impossible to escape. It is too late. And where will I go? What is this place? My town does not have snow and winter like this.
The hot breath on my neck gets closer, its stink worse than before. I gasp and hold myself tense, waiting for the final pain of leaving the Earth. The scorching burn on my neck comes to life, the feeling nauseating me. I try to scream, but that too is snatched from me, like my short life. It is all over. I can never see mama and papa or marry and have children.
Everything is stolen from me by the wolf. I should have stayed with my mother. I know that this is the punishment from God for not listening to mama. Now because of my foolishness and the Devil leading me astray into temptation, my soul will be burning in the pits of hell for all eternity.
I shift and squirm in position, then open my eyes which feel heavy, needing to see every last moment of my life. However, I am greeted by a different scenario. Blue skies over me and the rocking motion under my body leave me with a teetering sensation, disconnected from the earlier vision.
I feel the icy cold sting parts of my bare skin, and I inhale a deep breath. I smell the stink of feces and piss and the salty breeze of the ocean. I groan, a sharp pain surfacing beneath the skin of my right shoulder as I try to gather my strength to get up. I feel softness under the fingertips, reminding me of the red horseman’s fur coat, but my mind is drawn back to the stabbing pain at the base of the neck.
I try to think, but it is so hard. The wolf’s teeth were so painful. No… There is no wolf, right? It was a dream… Where am I?
I move slightly, the pain pulsing down my right shoulder, enough for me to hold the wound with my hand to keep it still. I have yet to inspect how deep it is. I curl into the soft bedding, not even recalling the blanket under me, much like the injury I currently sport. What has happened to my shoulder? It stings and aches, honestly feeling as if a wolf did bite me there.
My eyes take a look around wearily, my mind waking up to the images of a man… No, a savage, the red horseman—War, the Devil, had bitten me. I grip my shoulder firmly. I could feel the wolf from my dreams haunting me awake, while the nightmare, thought to be a childhood fantasy, now becoming a harsh reality. I cannot escape my bad dreams as I finally understand the swaying motion is from being on a large boat. I have only ever seen boats in the harbor, never been on one myself.
I look up, and my eyes catch the sun, the light blinding me, making me shrink back. I look the other way, seeing more of the blue skies but not my bedroom ceiling.
Then it hits me.
I can never go back. I can never lie on my bed, play with my friends, or see mama, papa, or the people in the castle. I will never see anyone from my town. The priest, maids, nannies, gardeners, or soldiers. Everything is lost. Everyone is probably dead. Mama… papa… my brothers…
Nooooo….
I scream in my mind. This can't be happening. This is not true. It is a bad dream.
Mama, where are you? Please save me. I want to go home. I will be the obedient daughter you want. I will do everything you tell me to. Please come, mama. I want you. I want my family…
The memories surge in my head, fresh from my thoughts—the Vikings invading my home, destroying the town and slaughtering good men, then kidnapping me. One, in particular, had bitten me. That is the reason my neck still throbbed.
I quickly sit up, feeling nausea roiling in me when I do. The swaying motion caused by the waves constantly lapping the sides of the wooden boat is making my stomach gurgle with unease. I press my back against the side, trying to calm my body, my eyes searching the inside of the boat.
What do I do now?
Comments (0)
See all