Through the dark shroud of night, they swiftly moved between the thicket and brush. They were running for their lives; for that is all they knew.

They ran, along the forbidden forest edge and quickly progressed toward the outer boundary of the nearest town. Candle-lit windows illuminated a faint glow- as if a sign of refuge. Sanctuary was no longer a reality. There was only separation and time. None of them were safe. None of them could relax. All would be a grim existence until they figured out a way to kill her.

Two revenants, covered with large dark rags, broke-off from the pack and continued at a slower regression, until the rhythmic sprint recessed into a springy jog, and then finally ramped down to a jutted walking pace. Even with scrap-like footwear, the two managed to make minimal sound as they lurched into the high-beamed entrance of the town. Lined with towering cobblestone walls and compacted buildings snugly nestled inside, the two felt as though it was the most ideal spot, as the rest of the group proceeded to vanish over the adjacent hilltops.

“March.” A soothing voice, whisked from the smaller of the two. “Do you think we made it undetected?”

“Hard to tell.” March, the substantially taller figure replied with a gentle baritone. “But, I think we’ll be fine for now.”

Under the hooded cloak, March’s jet-dark brow and cheek bones peeked over to his shorter partner.

“Try not to worry, April.” He ensured, “We’ll be okay.”

Turning up, to glance at the sturdy figure that towered over her like a mountain, April scanned his cemented expression with her somber diamond-glassed eyes.

She paused for a moment and turned her gaze downward in sorrow.

“You know… I’m also worried for the others.” April spouted.

March’s brow quivered with a twitch.

“The Summer triplets will be fine; I’m the least concerned for them.” March said in comforting effort. “And the cold seasons are wise- much more than I… Everything should pan out, if we all stick to the plan.”

“Yeah…” April whispered.

Silence befell them for a minute. The town was blanketed by evening coos of nearby nesting birds and wildlife. Chatter from filled bars and residential buildings scattered in the quiet night.

“But more than anything,” April said, breaking the silence. “I’m worried about her the most.”

“Yeah…” March whispered with shakeniness.

The two continued to walk down the gapping town streets, engulfed by their cloaks and the poorly lit building fixtures. Not a sound of sticks or stones could break the deafening silence that followed that moment.

The small town was ideal for Spring; however, the warmth that the two found would soon subside, because nipping at their heals was the darkness that chased them all.

- - - 

“They’ve escaped!” A woman’s shrill voice hissed from pitch-black corridors.

Her tall, lanky silhouette rose from a sharp, needle-stack throne. She moved in a slippery, rhythmic motion across the dingy limestone floor, almost mimicking the slithering of an oversized anaconda.

From her large, looming shadow, a frail body emerged, following her like a magnet.

“Which ones, miss?” The frail girl asked, with a motherly concern that contrasted to the tall, shrill woman.

“Specifics do not matter- if they scatter then all is lost!”

“Foolish children.” The frail girl muttered. “ Shall I find them?”

“No, I will handle the current matter. I want you to find me replacement vessels.” The tall, shrill woman commanded. “Kill any that refuse to comply.!”

        “Right away, miss.”

The tall, lanky, shrill woman turned to a far corner of the chamber, where the only existing light burned from a single candle. The candle wick withered with age burned searing fumes that clouded the lower space of the floor, while it’s globs of melted wax gathered in puddles, surrounding it with a river of its own waste. Nonetheless, the lonesome candle burned strong and with fury, as it remained a constant nub that seemingly never extinguished.

As the tall, lanky, shrill woman drew near, her heigh managed to elude the candles light. The only part of her that became visible was her outstretched hands.

Skin as ghostly as a swamps fog. Nails as wretched as dying tree bark. Oblong bones that paralleled to that of spiders legs. Her jointed rattled like snapping tree branches.

This was the first time that the frail girl had caught any sight of tall, shrill woman and it was terrifying. The girl’s heart was rampaging with morbid intrigue that her mentor could be the monstrosity that she had imagined. The frail girl was transfixed on the dreadful imagery.

“I thought I told you to go!” The tall, shrill woman turned suddenly with a shrieking gurgle.

“Yes. Yes. Right away, miss. My apologies.” The frail girl replied unflinchingly and speed off with haste.

‘What a useless husk.’ The tall, shrill woman thought. ‘If it were not for her blood, I would kill that weak imbecile, instantly.’

Turning back into the brimming light of the candle, the tall, shrill woman pulled chunked of moldy clay from a hidden shelf that was perched high above in the darkness. From another shelf, nailed to the opposite wall, she plucked speckles of green spices and silver flakes.

Smashing down the clumps of rotten clay onto the stone tablet, which housed the candle, the tall, shrill woman began violently sculpting and mashing the clay into multiple miniature figures. Dusting the plethora of clay figurines with the mixture of spice and flakes she held in her other hand, the woman cradled the candles flame with her boney fingers. As if plucking a portion of the flame in-between her fingertips, she pinched the fire and marked each clay figure with daps and strokes.

“Now, go hunt the Spring.” She commanded to a pair of larger sized sculptures.

As she portioned the clay models into groups, each cluster vanished into the air as she stated her orders.

“And you lot shall hunt the Summer.” She hissed at a handful of uniquely misshapened figures; all of which soon vanished.

“As for you, bring me back the Winter” She sang to a bunch of clay, molded with animalistic features.

The last remaining models followed suit and vanished as the other groups before them.

There were no more remaining figures.

       "As for the Autumn... I will gather them myself."

Turning to face the open abyss of cold damp chambers, the tall shrill woman reluctantly walked, clicking one heel after another, in a slow methodical melody.

The icy stone flooring frosted her thin footwear, nipping at the souls of her pale feet, as she passed door after door.

Empty cells, riddled with rusted chains, garb, and buckets. Some nicknacks lined the walls, while others were completely barren and void of any previous occupancy.

‘Curious.’ The tall, shrill woman thought.

Reaching the tenth cell door, the tall, shrill woman peered into the cracked door. With its thick iron build, the door was utterly demolished. Hanging on a single hinge, with busted bars and petrified puncture holes casted across its surface, the door was far worse compared to the adjacent cells.

“This kind of work could only be done by one of the Summers.” The tall, shrill woman pondered. “But why?”

Lurching furthering towards the narrow opening of the battered door, she peeked into the dismal cell, where the only recognizable object was that of a motionless figure.

Almost statuesque, a girl sat idle facing the back wall. Dagger-like hair streamed down on all sides, covering their body in a waterfall of sharp, golden waves, reaching the grimy cell units floor.

“Miss Fortune,” A sing-song voice uttered from the sharp, golden haired girl, still kneeling in the cell block. “What a pleasure it is for you to visit.”

“… October.” Miss Fortune replied with a pleasant surprises.

Trying her best to hide any trace of fear in her usual shrill tone, the tall woman, Miss Fortune careened her neck back a bit and safely backed from the door frame.

“Is it already daylight?” October asked amusingly, as she remained staring into the dark void of her pitch black cell.

“It is.”

“Oh…” October trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

Miss Fortune remained alert and on-guard. She had a feeling that October would have no part in the escape; however, there was an ominous aura looming over the stationary girl. Only an overwhelming presence of evil occupied October’s cell. The evil aura was so heavy, generating a tangible weight, that even Miss Fortune favored to keep her distance. It was a power of dread that matched her own. Never had she imagined that such immense malice would manifest in the poor village girl that she had traded for many years ago.

Neglecting to ask if October was aware of the others, or what had happened during the escape, Miss Fortune concocted a devious idea.

“My most precious daughter, would you like to come out and play?”

The question echoed throughout the spacious chamber, bouncing off the nearby walls and rattling within the neighboring empty cells, until finally reaching the inside of October’s confinement, where the sound got swallowed up entirely.

October rose.

Rising to her feet, October’s golden, dagger-like hair continued to cover most of her short stature, draping to her legs. She wore a sleek black robe that was darker then the night sky. Her skin was more ghostly and porcelain than Miss Fortune’s and as she turned to face the cell door, October’s long, pin-needle eyelashes webbed around glossy purple eyes that lit up with a sinister glee.

Stepping toward the front, October paused and turned to the tiny sliver opening in the door.

“May I come out?”

“You may, my child.” Miss Fortune addressed her with utmost composure.

The hefty iron door opened to reveal October standing in a smear of chalky red blood. Her eyes held an eerie emptiness, shooting a hollow sensation into Miss Fortune as the two locked eyes.

“A game of hunting.” Miss Fortune chimed with a playful expression strut across her face.

“Game?” October inquisitively repeated.

“An easy one for you, my dear pumpkin. Find your brothers and sisters for me.”

“Yes mama.” October replied with bloodcurdling revelry. “And what should I do when I find them?”

“Well… whatever you like.” Miss Fortune answered.