I thought nothing of the darkness, it was the same for me everywhere. My light was dark, my dark was dark. There wasn't a drop of sunshine in this world for me, and I guess that's what drew him to me. My days were always numbered in my opinion. Every day I lived, my soul suffered yet another injury, and the dark cloud within me only drew thicker and larger with every passing moment I breathed the air on this Earth. My name is Scar, my full name being Scarlet, a much prettier name, but I have always known that they only named me that so they could cleverly derive a horrid name from it and get away with it. They think their so clever.
But they aren't. I was born Halloween day, what a wonderful day, eh? So every year on my birthday, no matter how much my parents protested, I would dance around the house in a volatile costume, normally attired with blood and gore, witchcraft and monsters. They never let me leave the house, and I never knew why. Until that day. I was turning 7, and they finally let me go outside, and trick or treat with the rest of the neighborhood kids, and they were worried as ever. It was my last house, and I was still so pumped for the night, all the candy eating and things. The last house was themed rather well, the gravestones all misshappen and the cobwebs placed everywhere. It must have taken them forever to decorate. I kept thinking that, until I realized it was real.
My parents must've not seen me go to this house, because I know if they had seen me, they wouldn't have let me. There was only a few sparse kids ahead of me, and the other majority were still in the street, behind the protective bushes, whining about not being able to go, and their parents just shaking their heads in disdain. But I didn't let that deter me. As the last few kids that were there with me left, I was the only kid left there. I thought nothing of it. It was only darkness, and cobwebs and tombstones. The things of my birth, really. As I got a few feet from the door, I heard it. A low, throaty growl coming from behind me.
Slowly, I turned my head around, and froze stiff in place. Behind me stood a tall wolf looking creature, but it's hands were grotesquely mutated, half human, half wolf, with claw nails the length of a pencil. He stood hunched over, his muzzle protruding crudely from his face, his fur as pitch black as the night, thick, but bristly, as I could see from even this far away. His feet were large, the claws just as long. His eyes were the worst though. They were set deep into his horrendous face, as yellow as a full moon, and as soul eating as it got. I couldn't move, or scream for my parents who were by now surely looking for me. But they wouldn't find me in this terrible yard. Time itself seemed frozen around me.
The wolf animal cleared it's throat, walking towards me, hobbling on it's mutated feet, it's large nose scrunching up as it smelled me, licking its chops in preparation. When it was only a foot away, it spoke. "Oh Dear Scar, what a pleasure to finally meet you" he said, his voice scratchy and it hurt my ears deeply. "I've waited 7 years for this very day Scar. Every Halloween, I've waited to see you emerge from your house on the one day I could touch you..like this" he said, and even though I flinched, his hand/paw reached out, and brushed across me arm, leaving a small trail of blood from his sharp nails. "But your parents never let you out. They knew I was waiting. It was the deal they made with the Devil. They thought they were so clever, keeping you hidden inside. They thought that after 7 years, the Devil would have called me off. But the Devil can wait, Satan is a king of patience. And now he can have his prize." he said, and with that, he started to raise his huge arm, to scoop me up close to his face, and no doubt rip my throat out and guzzle me down like a drink.
But he never got to. He had me scooped up when it happened. He froze, me in his grotesque arms. I didn't know what had happened, but as I peeked behind his shoulder, I saw my father standing there, panting like a wild animal, his hand was thrust forwards as if he had thrown something, his eyes were wide with panic. As I looked at the wolf's back, I saw a large ax planted between his shoulders. But all of a sudden, his head thrust down to my arm and bit into it like an ear of corn, breaking the skin with ease, and then dropping me down. I hit the concrete sidewalk with a thud, and could only watch as the wolf thrust his arm back, and grabbed the handle of the ax angrily, and hardly flinching, pulled it from his back. He turned to my father, and threw the ax down to the ground, it sticking handle up.
My father was frozen as the wolf strutted to him, blood gushing from his back for a few seconds, before it miraculously healed up, meanwhile, my arm was still bleeding heavily, it stinging as well. The wolf got in his face, and I could see his steamy breath bask my father's face with stench. He spoke deeply to him. "How dare you try and injure me, fool. You knew your daughter had this coming. You yourself set it up like that. You cannot get away from it! I am the devil's hound, he created me himself!" he spat. "Do you think it would be so easy to kill me? Idiot" he breathed, and with that, he ran back to me, staring me in the eyes. "That bite will do nothing to you, but it did help me. It means that since I have tasted your blood, I can find you on any day, including Halloween. You'll never know it's coming. I'll get you, Scar. You'll bloody be mine!" he roared, and with that, he sank back to all fours, and dashed off into the night.
As he totally disappeared, my father ran towards me, and I just lay there, dazed, the wolf's words running through my head like poison, and that's when I started to cry. All my father did was pick me up, and take me home to my mother, and she wrapped my arm with care, for once they looked like I actually existed as a real child to them. I was kept inside for yet another 9 years.
November 16, 1979. I guess it was a rather cold day that it happened. My parents were once again fighting, and I had had enough. Unlike most other times, when I would just stalk off to my room and weather the storm there, tonight, I had decided to venture outside to the park, and sit on the bench by a few bushes. I had survived Halloween yet another year, and thoughts of the wolf were totally gone. I had even started to think he was just a figment of my imagination, and that the story behind my ugly scar was just something I had imagined to make myself feel special. My parents had never mentioned another thing about it, either, so I really believed it was fake.
The park bench was in the middle of the park, surrounded by all the play equipment. I gazed around, taking it all in, the times of my childhood that I played on it every afternoon to let go of some energy. It was all going calmly until the rain, hi-ho, started to pour down onto me, soaking my clothes and drenching my hair, it clinging to my neck like a bandage. Sighing, I decided to ignore it, and that's when I heard it. The swings started creaking, like something had brushed past them. I snapped my neck around, but nothing was there. It was likely just the rain. But then I heard to merry go round creaking, and I turned, and saw nothing. It continued like this for a few minutes, different play equipment creaking and squeaking, finally, I had had enough.
Just as I was about to turn my head from the latest noise, I stopped my beck mid turn before it was back to normal. Next to me, there was a steamy body. It was grotesquely mutated, and it's horrendous hands were placed on the other side of the bench. Turning my head a bit more, I could see the protruding muzzle right next to my face, it's steamy breath causing clouds in the dark, cold night air. It's fangs were pointed and as white as snow, dripping saliva thickly, it running down it's jaws, and splattering next to my side. I gulped, turning it back all the way, to see two deep set yellow eyes. As it saw that I recognized it, it grinned crudely. "Scar, I tried to tell you Satan didn't plan games. You shouldn't have ran." and with that, his yellow eyes were the last thing I saw as he lunged his muzzle forwards, and sunk it into my neck, bursting my jugular, and eating me alive. My parents would never find me.
It is said that if you are ever sitting on a park bench in the rain, or you hear the creak of the park equipment, to run, because you will only have so much time before a pair of yellow eyes if the last thing you see too. The Wolf doesn't play games, and neither does his Master. They have unlimited patience, and will wait every night for you outside in the dark. You can only elude them so long, my dear friend.
Aha ]]
