Tom couldn’t look away, he was mesmerized. How could he not be when an enchantress stood before him. Nothing else was registering in his head beside the dancing beauty whose moves were so tantalizing and seductive, it was pulling him in and drowning him.
He watched enthralled as said enchantress's body moved languidly. Arms slowly moved fluidly to the music, he watched enamored how the shoulder blades rippled against the skin at the action. Feet moving in sync with the beat at each drop and raise, it was something that took such control and practice but not a trace of hardship or difficulty could be seen.
With each leap of the feet, the sands would fly up as if wanting to follow. The sway of the hips was graceful and alluring as they practically sailed across the sand rather than walk. At certain points, the movements of the hips changed from slow and smooth to something rougher and sharp to match the harshness of the notes.
The movements themselves -even the smallest shift- were to match the tone of the music, to communicate the story of the song itself. This was an interpretation of it, every single movement and shift matched the sound. Their dance around the bonfire was like an intricate long-forgotten ritual to a long-gone and past Goddess. It was truly a sight to behold, one he’ll never forget.
Just like that, the dancing came to an end and he realized belatedly that if he had continued playing, it would’ve lasted much longer. He had stopped registering his surroundings the moment his eyes befell the sorceress who had him spellbound. He had been but a sailor out in the sea who had swayed to the siren’s song. One who would have jumped into the raging seas to get to their beloved siren, only to drown and die. Like a moth to a flame, he couldn’t help but get closer.
Step by step he made his way over, closer to the bonfire, where they were. When he finally got closer to get a better look at the seductress, the air was knocked out of his lungs. How could it be? More like impossible. They were truly beyond words, such he can say he has only seen once in his very long life. The light from the bonfire gave them an ethereal glow. Their eyes were glinting against the light, it was brighter than any emerald. He felt the words leave him when they made eye contact, speechless. His brain stopped working, he’s a charmer through and through, could even charm the devil with that mouth of his. However, at this moment he was left gaping unable to even string a simple sentence together.
Then he felt faint. How could this Goddess incarnate in human flesh smile like that? His heart was beating far too much, there was a throbbing in his head, it was going to burst if this continued on. He was tempted to leave, fight his battle another day to win the war but how could he? If he leaves now there’s no saying if he would ever meet them again. He didn’t want to take the chance, he’s not omniscient and doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow or even in an hour. He won’t let this chance slip away.
Tom looked up, determination shining in his eyes as he gathered all his wits and charm he’s gathered in his many years.
--
Harry couldn’t stop blushing. What was he supposed to do? He had never really been one for dancing- yes, he danced every single week maybe once if he’s lucky but at most and normally three days out of the week. It wasn’t out of joy but a necessity, it was their only source of money. When he was younger, he enjoyed it and even loved it. Although as the years progressed life had not been kind to them so he did what he had to and that was to dance- something that brought happiness turned into a chore. It broke his heart every time, this had been a source of wonder and joy he had shared with his parents.
His parents would dance so beautifully, it wasn’t for performance or even special occasions. They’d just start a little fire and dance away under the night sky with the stars and moon as their witness. Then there was Harry who would happily join the dance as he was twirled about and lifted grandly into the air by his dad. Memories that were filled with fond laughter and giggles.
He feels like it was an insult to his parents that the one thing he still had left of them was befouled. It was no longer something he looked forward to, it tired him out. It was not something he rejoiced, this essential part of him, something so pivotal- he was coming to hate it. How miserable was that?
He felt awful each time he had to dance because it felt like shackles weighing him down more than freeing. When he leaped, he couldn't fly anymore, it still felt like he was grounded to the Earth. Chained. Each time he went down he was losing a part of himself slowly but surely he was falling apart at the center. He couldn’t keep dancing, he wanted to give it up. Maybe even play the instruments. Dancing had become something that took his control and freedom away.
He thought this night was going to be the same, that it was going to be the same again just like any other time without a crumb of joy. Yet, the sound from the violin sparked something inside him and he decided to truly dance and he's just got lost in the moment. His body moved to tell the story of the melody that was being played and he had never felt this way after his parents died and it was just amazing. It was like love at first hearing, it brought out something so primal and raw in him.
For the first time in a long time, he was left breathless of being lost in the moment.
Harry felt his arm being shoved to turn to see Hermione, her soft brown eyes looking warmer against the burning fire. She leaned in, a smile curving on her lips, “I think you have an admirer.”
“Wh-what?!” He whisper shouted, leaning downward so as not to be heard. Hermione shook her head, exasperated albeit fondly smiling, there wasn’t really a reason for Harry to be whispering so loudly when the noise from the surrounding people easily drowned out their voices.
Hermione didn’t get a chance to tease him some more before he was roughly pulled up by an arm. “Ugh,” Harry groused, punching into the offender’s biceps, “what is wrong with you?! Why do you always manhandle me, I’m literally all bones there.” As a means of proof, he shook both his hands by the wrist, the many loose bracelets clinking against one another.
“Hey, be honored you are beholden by this arm,” the hold on him tightened a bit, not too painfully but after dancing for who knows how long, the grip was torture for his overused muscles. “This arm holds the markings of our ancestors, it is their wisdom, might, and…”
“Love. Yes, I get it.” He rolled his eyes, the crinkles around his eyes betraying the previous action. “You never let us forget Blaise. Not even a day goes by where you don’t remind us.”
“Hey, it’s my duty as the oldest.”
“So you remind us,” Blaise had been the only one who had gotten the markings of their tribe. It told the many stories of their tribe, it was their history right on one arm. The arm Blaise was never ashamed or embarrassed to showcase, he left it sleeveless even in the wintertime to show off to others.
Hermione too would’ve gotten them, only missing the ceremony by just mere days, they had a good year on him. Their tribe lived peacefully on a small island, all sides surrounded by water. Everyone knew each other, more than being a small village- it was more of a big family. Each night rather than eating with one’s respective family, they would all gather around and share with each other what they caught for the day.
It was wonderful in his opinion, no one ever starved if they hadn’t been able to gather food for themself that day. They all helped each other out, there was no need to lie or steal- something he hadn't even thought existed until he was brought on this land. They would all sit around a great big bonfire, some would happily dance while others watched and cheered, sometimes the elders would tell the children stories of great beasts and warriors. All in all, it was peaceful.
That peace came to a shattering end when a great big boat washed ashore, then Harry learned that monsters didn’t only exist in stories. They were real and terrifying, just as real as when he saw his parents gunned down. His father was the first to go, protecting him and his mom. Then his mom was next, she went down shielding him from harm's way, the last thing he heard of her was her scream, her red hair flowing out as she fell. It looked the same as the blood pooling out from the gaping wound in her stomach.
Then the next thing he knew, he was with Hermione and Blaise. The three of them stowed away on a ship, hiding behind boxes and crates. Those days passed by in swirls. Even now, he does not recall much no matter how hard he tries to remember. They had secretly snuck off the ship when it had stopped here, not knowing anything of the land that would be their new home. They had decided to stay near the sea rather than moving inland into the crowded streets of what they later learned was England.
It was hard to make a living but they were somehow able to rake in a few coins here and there. It wasn’t all bad, for a few months they had been taken in by a traveling group who taught them how to play new instruments as well as dances. He had been gifted the bangles from one of the women whom he had grown close with. The bracelets made a beautiful sound when he moved and he wore them all the time.
Harry sighed, “it’s useless Hermione. He’ll never let us forget it, probably chatter to us about it when we’re rolling in our graves.” Blaise let out a bark of laughter, “oh don’t be so spiteful now. What would your new suitor think, you’d most likely chase him off.” He looked at his cousin in indignation and slight horror.
“I-” he started before Hermione cut him off. “Quiet, Blaise. At least he has a decent suitor unlike you who’s living your life most generously. I fear our future will be full of your spawns. I pity them already.” Blaise in turn, wiggled his eyebrows while grinning, “what can I say? I am a God who keeps giving and they love to worship me.”
Harry groaned, already knowing the argument that would break out. “You foul loathsome evil little cockroach! Do not dare to compare yourself to a God of all things. Do you wish to be hanged by morning rise? It is not to be taken lightly.”
“I am absolutely shocked, I didn’t know you cared for me that much. Come here, my dear sister.” He had his arms outstretched, fingers waving for Hermione to accept the hug.
“Ugh! Get those disgusting hands away from me!” Harry sat there, stuck in the middle of it all, too tired and used to this to even fight it. He accepted being squished and crushed in the middle as Blaise finally caught his unwilling sister. And there they were, all stuck against each other and sweaty with sand stuck to their skins.
All three stopped struggling and squirming as someone stopped in front of them. Three pairs of eyes looked at the newcomer, Harry blinked, surprised. It was the man that had been playing the violin and suddenly he did not want to leave the pile of limbs, feeling a bit vulnerable and shy under the weight of the man’s gaze.
“I was wondering if I could have a dance?” The man was very well-spoken, he could tell this person was not around from here but probably more inland. Harry wondered why someone like that would be hanging out here, their little community was given a very bad name and inlanders don’t like to associate with them much. The people thought they were a bunch of brutes, sinners, murderers, and whores.
It was a bit disheartening to be called those words to the face when all they did was try to make a living. Although they did not have much money, they liked to live a more freeing lifestyle which was different from the people of the Kingdom. It did not take long to learn that those people who hid themselves behind tall stone walls were in fact not very friendly or accepting and far too judgemental for his liking.
He was intrigued and wanted to know more about this mysterious figure that graces their beach from time to time. Harry had noticed how seamlessly this person would just become a part of the crowd, not at all sticking out like some curious or rebellious young scions from the inland had. So he was about to say yes before he felt the arms around him tighten.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Blaise cut in before he could say anything. “A name if you will.”
The stranger’s demeanor stayed calm and pleasantly neutral, “Tom Riddle. A pleasure.” Blaise smiled, more along the lines of a mock than pleasantries, “mmm, I bet.” Harry hissed lowly, pinching him along the side causing the other to hiss out in pain. His cousin had the habit of being rather cocky and rude when dealing with new people. Which got him in more trouble than Harry could remember to count.
Harry shoved him off. “Hey!” Ignoring his protest and Hermione as she tried to grab for his hand. “I would love to.”
He smiled up at the man, who was quite the opposite of him, where he had a mess of untameable curls, the man’s hair was nicely combed back and coiffed with just a string of lock hanging pleasingly. While he had naturally always been more on the tanner side, it was more so now that he was constantly under the sun. The figure across from him was pale and not like any of the highborn, as they liked to call themselves.
Those people were unusually white as is, something he hadn’t quite seen where he was from. He had remembered being a bit startled when he first saw one of them, but as it turns out they actually powdered their faces to get that paleness. While this person had an unnatural sense of paleness, that he couldn’t quite place, it wasn't powdered nor anything either. Almost ghostly like.
Then there were their eyes. He had thought the man’s eyes were of a dark brown shade but now standing closer, he could see its true color. As the bonfire lights flickered across the stranger’s face, it was brown but not. It reminded him of the clay he would make out figurines as a child, it was brown but bled somewhat red.
Harry was about to offer his hands before Blaise shouted out. “Wait! I want him home before...uh...quick Hermione.”
Harry couldn't quite hold back a smile at that, “I don’t know. Do I look like I’m carrying around a time dial?” Hermione looked at her brother like he was the bane of her existence before she narrowed her eyes at him, and Blaise somewhat cowed under that gaze. “You,” she pointed a finger directly at him, “be back before the high tide is over.”
Harry acquiesced, not willing to get on her bad side. As if to make her point across she turned her stern gaze towards the other. The man smiled cordially and nodded not the least perturbed by Hermione’s scathing gaze. Harry exhaled in relief as the both of them seemed somewhat appeased. He happily accepted the offered hand of the violinist and his breath hitched.
He blinked at their connected hands, it was as if something had struck at his core. “Everything alright?” Harry seems to come back to himself at the question, “oh, umm yes. Shall we head off then, umm…” The man seem to have noticed his dilemma as he let out a low chuckle, “I’d prefer if you’d call me Tom.”
The other seemed to be waiting for something and he was wondering what it was until it hit him. He hadn’t introduced himself, he could feel his cheeks burn, the heat making him feel a bit light-headed. “Oh, um. It’s Harry. Nice to meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Tom took his hand and gave it a soft peck along the ridges of his knuckles. He bet the man could feel the warmth of his face even at this distance. He turned to face the oncoming breeze hoping it would cool down his face.
They walked towards near the bonfire where the other couples were getting into position to start dancing. The music lightly started off and they bowed to one another before holding hands. And just like that, they began moving.
Harry didn’t know what was going on. It was as if he was outside of his body, on another plane of existence. All he could see was Tom, the background blurring out, just streaks of bright yellow-red flames twirling around them, perhaps it was the other way around. He couldn’t tell how long they had been dancing anymore, all of it becoming hazy.
The crescendo of the music was drowned out, Harry could only hear his labored breathing and his heart beating at a weird rhythm. He could feel the sand under his feet with each step, it was cold and hot at the same time. He thinks this is how it feels to be thawed, both cold and hot but neither at the same time.
They were twirling and twirling, he thought at the rate they were going they would bump into the other occupants around the bonfire but it never happened. He didn’t even feel himself slow as the music came down from its crescendo or how some of the couples had stopped dancing.
It was all so surreal. He had never felt like this in all his time of dancing ever. Like something within him was being stitched back together, there was a sense of wholeness that wasn’t there before.
Was…
Was he falling in love! Is this what the poets say was love?!
He didn’t even notice that they came to a stop, lost in thought. He was startled out of his thought process when he felt a cool hand come up to touch his face. Harry stared up at Tom, he could see the barest of a flush beneath that pale almost...greyish skin? He was out of breath the same as him. The cold air felt like mint tea running down his lungs.
“I know you’re supposed to be back before the high tide ends but I was wondering if you would like to walk along the beach with me?”
“Oh…I would love to.”
Tom offered his arm and Harry smiled up at the other, gratefully accepting the gesture. They walked away from the boisterous lively festivity, heading towards into the night, the light barely reaching them now. He could hear the waves crashing against the rocky cliffs, the soft splashes of the waves against the sand, and the cool night wind.
They walked along the shoreline, walking in comfortable silence keeping each other company. After a while they found themselves sitting, Harry happily stretched out his legs so that the water could wash up against the ankles of his leg. He was surprised to see Tom also follow pursuit, digging his now naked feet into the wet sand. He turned back to his own, wiggling his toes against the wet sand before the water would wash it away.
“Did you know these very shores are home to a legend?”
“Really?”
Tom nodded, his face was serene and he looked beautiful as he was bathed in the moon’s light. “Do you want to hear the story?”
“Of course!” At the over enthusiastic response he cleared his throat and at a more sedate tone, “I mean yes, do go on.” Tom chuckled, letting his hand wander up to curl a lock of hair behind Harry's ear.
Harry blushed furiously, it is as the poet says. Is this not a sign, he’s pretty sure it was, he listened to some of the older ladies talk about this. Is it sound, is it not? Is he just overthinking it? How embarrassing it would be if he was jumping to assumptions.
“There used to be a boy. He had nothing to him but his name.” Harry peeked at Tom at the tone of his voice, he had a faraway look as if he was reminiscing.
“He was so very angry at everything. He hated the hand dealt to him, he hated being told he was less than everyone. He was also very greedy, he coveted what others had, he wanted to own and possess. Nonetheless, it was very hard for an orphan to have more or to ever become anything. Still, he tried and persevered, just biding his time to strike those who sneered and ridiculed him.”
“He did succeed in becoming someone that others held in high regard, even those that had looked at him as lesser than an insect before. With that name came power, a power that other powerful people followed whether out of fear or willingness. But you see, that was not the end however. The boy had now become a man but still, the fears of his childhood still lingered like a guillotine over his head.”
“His fears?”
“There was a great war that ravaged the lands. With that war came destruction and famine and in times like these, monsters awake from their slumber.” Harry looked down, he also learned as a child that the worst kind of monsters were humans themselves. He guesses this was something he shared with the boy of the story, but at least he had Blaise and Hermione. It didn't seem like this child had anyone though. He hugged his knees tighter to himself.
“The boy had too many close calls with death. It was everywhere, looming over his shadow, stalking him. And he feared it dearly, deathly afraid of dying.” Tom’s lips curled in an ironic smile but it seems almost sorrowful and deprecating somehow. “Fears like that never really do leave even as an adult who had powerful people at his beck and call.”
“He wanted to escape this fear, to escape death’s grip. And this led him on a very dark and dangerous path. He delved into magic that was never meant to be created in the first place. He was blinded by the promise of immortality and power beyond human imagination, to become something greater but he overlooked the consequences his actions would create.”
A rather harsh cold wind blew past them causing Harry to shiver, he cursed in his head for not having brought a shawl or something. Due to habit, he just leaned into the closest source to keep him warm. When he caught himself practically glomping onto Tom’s side, he tried to move away discretly. Just as he was about to, an arm came up to cage him in. Tom smiled down at him, “it’s getting a bit chilly isn’t it?”
He nodded, “It is.” He was a bit stunned to feel a warm palm on his arm. He had thought Tom's hands would be colder seeing how cool it was when they were near the huge bonfire. Yet, as he leaned back against the man’s side, he was warm and felt cozy. It’s as if he was suddenly shielded from the night’s wind.
“Hmmm, where was I? Ahh, yes. The man became a monster that all feared. You see, for the price of his immortality was another’s life. So he killed and killed. With each kill, his soul became splintered and fragile. Causing him to become a deranged bloodthirsty madman. His mind was lost and shrouded in an endless emptiness. He was no longer him. He was killing himself by trying to live.”
“That’s a sad kind of irony.”
“It is, isn’t it.” At the somewhat sorrowful look overcoming Tom’s features, Harry asked, “that’s not how it ended right?”
“No, that’s not how it ends. This boy who had become a man then turned monster was saved you see. By a God.”
Harry’s eyes widened, “a God?!”
Tom turned to look at him, “a God.” His eyes conveyed something he couldn’t quite understand. “You see the God had also been a victim of this monster, their loved ones lost to them and they had to live in suffering. Yet, the God chose to save this monster who took everything from them.”
“How did they do it?”
Tom’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brows creasing just the slightest bit. “They sacrificed themself to save this monster. They relinquished their life so this monster’s soul could once again be whole. This monster wasn’t quite a monster anymore but neither was he a man, stuck somewhere in the in-between. But he was alive once again, his mind was his own once more. In that moment of clarity, he learned what love was for the first time in his life. And it was also at that moment he lost that love. It was brief and fleeting.”
“That’s- that’s awful! It ends just like that. It’s so...sad…” Harry sulked, he was not an admirer of those tragic Greek stories Hermione would read. It was frustrating to know how close to happiness they were just to miss it by the tips of their fingers. He’d rather there be more happy endings...the world needed more of that... he needed- wanted- more of it.
He was hugged firmer against Tom’s side, the brunette looked down at him with a smile. “The story doesn't quite end there you see.” Harry peered back up at him, eyes wide with hope and anticipation. “It’s said that his soul didn’t fully become whole again.” Harry made a face at that, “When you said it doesn't end there, I thought maybe it would be a less depressing ending.”
Tom hummed, “well...A small sliver of his soul mended, well hitched a ride with the God’s soul. Some say that the little sliver of the soul will shine like a beacon to the rest of its soul.” Harry’s eyes lit up at that, making Tom smile curve up more, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “So, does that mean...That he’ll be able to find his love?”
“Who knows?”
“Why does it feel like you’re not actually telling me the full story?” Harry frowned, brows scrunching up in thought, he tilted his head looking up at Tom. “Why did this God save the monster even though he took everything from them?”
Tom smiled indulgently, suspiciously close to a grin. “Well, that’s only one version of the story.”
“There’s more?!”
“Every legend has different versions.”
“Is there one where my question is answered?”
Tom made a thoughtful face, “there’s one I heard where the God was not such a gracious God in the first place. It is said that it’s actually the God that bestowed the power upon him and that they were lovers but because of some curse, the man turned into a monster. The God sacrificed themself to save their lover. They were so enamored with one another, the God found a way for them to come back to the other, taking a sliver of his soul with them. So the man may be able to find them in every lifetime.”
Harry huffed, “you should’ve told me that version first. That seems way more romantic and less tragic.”
Tom laughed, “my apologies. I may have had some hidden intention in telling you the longer version. If I told you the first version, we would’ve had more time together and I could rope you in with a more happy ending for some extra time.” Tom gave him a grin that could only be considered cheeky.
Harry gave a startled laugh at that before fully laughing, “I’m simple enough, Tom. All you had to do was to ask me to stay but nonetheless, I enjoyed the stories. They were in their own way somehow beautiful.”
“Indeed,” Harry turned towards Tom but the man was already looking at him, eyes yearning. It didn't make sense, why he felt a grip on his heart, a sense of longing for something he doesn't know or understand. This whole night had been more unnatural than his usual mundane nights.
He pursed his lips before finally giving in, quickly leaning up and planting a kiss on Tom’s cheek. The other’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth a little agape. He leaned back, the burning along his face back with unrivaled fierceness. Harry bit his lip, nervous, his hands were jittery and he focused on kneading them against each other, not meeting Tom’s gaze.
“Thank you… For this whole night, it was amazing. I-” Harry paused, worried about his request but his need for an answer was all the courage he needed. “Would you come visit again?” It was then he decided to look up, eyes carrying a plea he himself did not realize.
Tom let out a soft exhale of a laugh, eyes closed and crinkling in amusement. A hand came up to cup his jaw and watched as the other leaned down, giving a soft kiss to his temple, right at the ends of his eye. “If it was up to me, I would never leave. I am very tempted to just steal you away but I doubt your family would take it well.”
Harry laughed leaning further into Tom’s side. In all his years of knowing Hermione and Blaise, something that has stuck out for those two siblings is their relentlessness. He doubts they would have gotten far before he was already tracked down. They are as daring and bold as they come.
“I should be taking you back lest your guardians forbid me to ever see you again for my inability to be on time.” Tom held out a hand for him, Harry smiled, happily accepting it. The gesture reminded him of when he had first accepted this very hand just a few hours ago. It was as if time hadn’t passed, as if the moon hadn’t changed positions at all.
“I look forward to another dance with you,” Harry leaned his head against Tom’s shoulders, thumb rubbing along Tom’s own where they held their hands. Tom held their hands higher, coming to give a tender kiss along his thumb, “and I you.”
“And more happy stories too!” Laughter filled the surrounding space as they followed the dimming light as festivities were coming to an end. “With less tragic stories.” Tom nodded, Harry bumped against him lightly, “Happy, Tom. Happy. Don't try to burrow your way out of this one.”
Tom hummed, “what will I get in exchange for all my effort?”
“Hmm,” Harry made a thoughtful gesture. “Maybe a kiss or two, who knows?”
“Just a maybe?”
“Who knows, maybe that ‘maybe’ will change depending on how good your stories are.”
“I certainly have to crack open those dusty old books now.”
Harry laughed, “perhaps if you tell me one on our way back, I just might part our ways with another peck.”
“You put up quite the hard bargain.”
Tom started on the tale about a secret chamber that housed a great giant beast and Harry let the sound of his voice and the soft waves fill his ears. Tomorrow night seemed to be looking up for him already.
–
She looked towards the ever dimming light, cursing herself for having gone that far out as she eyed the dark night sky. She hunched in on herself, gripping the shawl closer to cover herself from the chilly breeze. She adamantly looked down, afraid of the shadows she saw, telling herself it was just a figment of her imagination.
She hadn’t noticed another person walking her way until she bumped into them, it was so unexpected she hadn’t time to center herself. She fell against the sand, she scowled at the sand dusting the bottom of her skirt, no doubt it will be difficult to clean out.
She looked up with a glare, a few scathing words ready on the tip of her tongue. Just like that, her breath stilled, her mind going a bit blank. The man before was so devastatingly handsome, she had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Said man smiled down at her, one along the lines that looked apologetic and her heart thumped faster.
“My apologies, I had been in a rush and hadn’t taken my surroundings into account.”
She blushed under his intense gaze, the flush spreading from her cheeks to her ears. “Ah no,” her own voice meek and shy, “it’s of no concern. I also should have been looking where I was going.” The man shook his head, “nonsense, the fault is mine alone.”
“My apologies again, Miss,” he had a hand held out for her and they were long and elegant and so very inviting. She clenched her hand to her chest, biting her lips in uncertainty. She didn’t want this to be like last time, getting her hopes again just to be laughed at, she didn’t want to be some laughing stock. The man still waited patiently for her and she yearned for that hand.
“Myrtle,” she introduced herself, accepting the stranger’s hand. As he pulled her up, she patted her skirt with her free hand, trying to make herself look more presentable. She then turned to look back at the man with a shy look, “th-thank y-...”
She trembled and looked down at her hand that was collapsed in the others’, why was his skin so cold? It wasn’t normal. She leaned back, something akin to dread settling in the pit of her stomach. The grip on her hand tightened and she shuddered, she couldn’t pull free. The man’s smile turned sharper and he opened his eyes. The moon was high and lighted up the beach a bit but just enough for her to see the unnatural red of his eyes and she felt pure fear seize her very being.
She whimpered, legs shifting back, digging into the sand. The man’s hold on her was unyielding, no matter how much she pulled and struggled, there wasn’t even the slightest budge. She felt trepidation engulf her, the man couldn’t be human. He just felt so wrong, an abomination. Then the grip turned bruising, her eyes burned with tears as she begged and pleaded to be let go.
“Pl-ple-please. Please. Let me go, I won’t tell anyone I pr-promise.” She could even find it in herself to raise her voice or shout when she normally would have been screaming already. The man tilted his head, his smile turning almost playful and a small keening noise escaped her lips.
The man bared his teeth still smiling and she saw the abnormally sharp canines. Then he opened his mouth and bit down, it was all so fast and it was then she was finally able to scream.
A scream that no one heard.