Chapter 2
When Karen was a little girl, ten years old, she got lost in the woods. A disastrous camping trip with her father that had culminated in raised voices and rage fueled tears. Perhaps 'lost' was the wrong word. She'd intentionally slipped into a dense stand of pines, hoping to never see her father again. But the air had quickly dropped below freezing, and in less than an hour she'd been wandering around by the light of the moon, teeth chattering in her skull, certain that she was going to die of hypothermia.
But then she'd seen it, the opening to a cave camouflaged by bent branches, three pairs of glowing eyes staring out at her. Fear should have been the natural response, but she'd only felt a powerful sense of longing. She'd known it was warm in that cave, furry bodies pressed up against each other, little muted sounds of pups happily grunting against their mother. The largest pair of eyes had beckoned her, a she-wolf tiling her head in a decidedly un-wolflike fashion. It had been all the encouragement Karen needed, slipping into the shelter and closing her eyes as the animals curled around her.
When she'd awoken the next morning, it had been to the sound of vicious growls, the mother wolf standing guard at the cave's entrance, Karen's father on the outside. The sharply glinting fangs of the animals were a comfort to her, all the rage coiled inside them felt like armor. Ultimately, she'd known she couldn't stay with the wolves, resting her hand gently on the she-wolf's raised hackles, smoothing down the fur as she murmured her thanks.
Her father had quietly thrummed with anger on the way home, refusing to speak to her for weeks after, and her classmates as school had rolled their eyes at her story, telling her that wolves were dangerous monsters, that they would have torn her to pieces if she'd actually stumbled upon them. Karen't hadn't cared, telling the tale over and over again, closing her eyes and imagining the soft feel of warm fur against her skin as she'd slept. Eventually she began to wonder if the whole thing had just been some wondrous dream.
Run!
Twisting away from the approaching villains, Karen sprinted deeper into the trees. This wasn't a part of the park she recognized, the canopy getting thicker and thicker as she ran along, sunlight struggling to make it to the forest floor. Behind her, she heard a sharp yell, followed by a strangled sound. Then came a bellowing like she'd never heard before, low and full of malice.
"STOP!"
Hiding behind a particularly large tree trunk, Karen peered through the foliage at her pursuers. There were just two of them now, one cohort lying lifeless behind them, his neck at an unfortunate angle. At the sound of the roaring voice they stopped in their tracks, an unseen force pushing them to their knees.
And then she saw him, the dark and enraged figure of her presumed savior. He towered over the two remaining men, inhumanly tall, eyes black and fathomless. He picked both men up by their necks.
Karen squeezed her eyes shut, knowing the next sounds she heard were two skulls cracking against an unyielding rock. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she tried to calm her frantic breathing, to listen for the voice of her mother to tell her what to do. The forest was eerily silent.
Her heart thundered in her throat, fear crashing into her in waves. She whispered frantically, begging her mother to tell her what to do, the words falling like a mantra from her lips over and over again. She felt a hand grip her shoulder, and she jumped, a little yelp escaping her.
The hand gave a squeeze, neither gentle nor rough. A strangely reassuring firmness. "Shh-shh.. You're safe."
His voice, it wasn't what she expected, gentleness riding just under the smoke roughened surface. No one would call the gravelly intonation soft, but it was soothing nonetheless. Slowly, she stood, watching him warily, the heat of his touch still seeping through her blouse to the skin of her shoulder. She was still afraid, but something about the careful way he was handling her set her at ease. She raised her gaze confidently, waiting for him to voice the questions written all over his face.
"What are you doing in the underworld?"
He was smaller now, more human shaped than before, his eyes a soft brown instead of an empty swirling blackness. She cleared her throat, searching for an answer to his insane question. "W-what?"
He frowned. "How did you get here?"
She swallowed, aware that fear should guide her questions carefully, but simultaneously unable to utter a reasonable explanation. She looked past him, toward the bodies of the men crumpled on the ground. "Are they dead?"
He looked back, clearly unconcerned. "They deserved worse. Answer my question."
She blinked, unable to decipher the curious expression in his face. He was obviously deranged. "I was in the park… sleeping. Then they came, and I ran here."
"That's not possible."
The flat denial was enough to push the last of Karen's fear aside, replacing it with a more comfortable indignation. "Oh really?" She couldn't help the anger tinging her words, hands resting defensively on her hips as she glared at him. "Why is that?"
"Because mortals can't come here unless I want them to. Let's go." With that statement, he was done interrogating her, his jaw clenching shut like a vice.
"I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't even know you. You just murdered three people."
"I don't have time for this." Unceremoniously, he put his hands around her waist, lifting her over his shoulder like a bag of laundry.
She landed on the solid muscle with a little "oomph." Her mind raced, trying to find a way out of the situation. "Ok man, look... Clearly you've got some kind of... delusions going on here. And that's... okay. I know people... that can help you. Doctors, and maybe even…lawyers?"
They were moving at an alarmingly fast clip, Karen's speech pattern interrupted by little gusts of air whooshing out of her with the more forceful bumps. She expected her words to give him pause. It was dangerous, calling out someone's delusion like this, but she didn't know what else to do.
But he didn't stop, in fact he even laughed at her offer for help, the sound rumbling in his chest. "Ma'am, I don't know what game you're playing, but you're not leaving until I find out who you really are."
Suddenly the trees were gone, the forest around them giving way to a rather barren landscape, all rocks and gnarled pieces of driftwood. It was night, an alien looking moon casting greenish glow over everything despite the fact that half an hour before she'd been basking in the afternoon sun.
They came to the edge of a river, black tar-like waves lapping at the bank. A shiver of real fear shot through her again, and she began squirming against him.
He shifted, swiftly sliding her down until her feet just touched the rocks at the riverside. Instinctively, she clung to him, afraid of losing her footing and tumbling into the deadly looking water. They were too close, noses barely a millimeter apart, eyes disconcertingly aligned. Something flashed across his face, and she felt his heart beat where her hand was braced. The gentle tapping briefly increasing its pace. A soft little "ah" escaped her, as though she'd discovered something about this man, her anger at being kidnapped temporarily subsiding.
The sound broke him out of the trance. He blinked, refocusing his attention and shoving her away. "Don't. Move."
And then his hands left her side. He turned away, not even bothering to restrain her. He was too busy fiddling with the fastenings of a boat docked in the choppy water to even glance back at her.
It was a chance to escape, and yet… she was cemented in place, the muscles in her calves struggling to yank her feet from where they were planted. The harder she tried, the more insistent the connection to the ground seemed to be. Hysteria bubbled up in her, a scream perched on her vocal chords, ready to take flight.
He turned back to her, a flash of sympathy zipping across his face. "This is just a precaution. I can't take chances anymore." He offered her his hand, palm up. The soft flesh there was scarred, a silvery line slashing straight across. Karen barely had time to contemplate the precise looking injury before he spoke again. "Come on."
The power holding her in place let go, and she stumbled forward, falling into his arms. He seemed surprised, curling around her briefly before helping her stand upright. "Be careful, Charon has the night off, and he'd give me an earful if I capsized his boat. Plus, falling into the river Styxx isn't a good idea."
He scooped her up, gently lifting her over the lip of the little boat. His words rang in her ears. Charon? Styxx? "Who are you?"
He jumped into the boat, grabbing an long pole to push off the bank. The ride was oddly smooth in spite of the seemingly turbulent activity in the water around them. He looked down at her as the riverbank disappeared. "Who am I? It's been a long time since anyone's asked me that." He looked thoughtful for a second, leaning against the pole in his hand. He smiled, for the first time. "You can call me Frank."
"Frank?"
He nodded. "And who are you?"
"K-Karen."
He squinted at her, as though she were behind a thick shroud. "Hmm, no that doesn't seem right. You're someone else."
"I beg your pardon?" She was aghast, indignation pushing past her nervousness. "What do I have to gain by lying? I'm your prisoner."
He grunted, looking out over the dark water. And sense of playfulness evaporating. "A temporary guest, not a prisoner." He flicked one hand toward the prow of the little boat, changing direction with the little gesture. He looked back at her. "You don't have tell me who you are, but I always figure these things out."