All I knew was that I was running. Running faster than anything this wood had ever seen anyway; its weak trees and bushes fell down well before I did; casting dark shadows on my lantern as they flew past me. I dismissed them as though they were small flies not seven foot oaks. The mountains were small stumps they caused me only a short journey, the moonlight casting a bright pathway through the fields of dying wheat and sleeping cows. I did not stop running until I had reached my destination. It was a cave; small and dark apart from a lantern similar to my own swinging eerily on a nearby branch. "What is my name?" someone whispered. I extended my covered arm to greet the owner of the voice. "You have no name that is a trick question you are not human you do not follow our traditions." I replied waiting for an answer. "I see you have come alone." I nodded my eyes glinting in the half light. "You look well." I commented trying to muster some respect for the crook. "I try my best." He replied his slimy hands holding mine in an iron grasp. The villagers…do they know of your…transformation?" I tensed. He must have felt it as he then held my hands with a tighter grip than before. "I have told no one." I lied. He relaxed but still did not let go. "And these friends of yours they suspect nothing?" I stayed calm, my incredible skill of lying finally becoming useful. "I already told you they know nothing." As I said this I released myself from his hold and wiped my hands on the dress I was wearing. "You know something. Something you have no intention of telling me." I was thankful for the how little light our lanterns produced as I attempted to wipe the look of shock off my features. "Why would I want to do that?" I replied smoothly my lips curving up into a fake smile showing my gleaming sharp teeth. "Because it's in your nature is it not? A shape shifter is not someone you can trust…" My hands balled into fists as I glared at him through the darkness. "Never call me that filthy name!" I hissed grabbing his neck with an outstretched hand. "Calm! You really want to kill your own father?" he whispered. I dropped him slowly my hand still around his neck. "I would have killed you the minute I got here if you didn't possess your gift!" I spat, my hand tightening slightly as he chuckled darkly, Daring me to kill him. "You can't kill me! You wouldn't hurt a fly!" he whispered still grinning. "Watch me." I hissed.
And then it was over…
Mary had just woken up when she heard a scream outside her window. There were three of them. They lay like statues on the ground their faces pale and frozen solid. A woman fell down next to one body; it was a man no older then twenty he had been carrying flowers, they lay withered in his right hand a love note laid beside them. She started to sob quietly at first. Then she started to howl her grief stricken cries like a thick ice over the morning atmosphere.
"Who has done this!" she shouted, wringing her hands in the air, blinded by anger and loss. "Who has killed him!" she looked around her blonde hair falling out of its untidy plait. People started to gather around the scene loved ones slowly started too claim the other. One of the bodies was a young boy no older than fifteen. He was not claimed just left their as a dark artefact of the terrible incident.
Mary got dressed and walked down to the body. He was a stranger. No connection to her at all but she felt the need to put him to rest. It was only right. It would be wrong to leave a dead body in the streets and shame the poor boy. He deserved the respect the others got even if he wasn't one of them. She put him on her cart and covered him with a blanket. She would burn it later; a blanket that had been touched by the dead is cursed.
She dug a hole quietly trying not to think of how he had died. While she dug she sang.
Mary, Mary quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
and pretty maids all in a row!
She had sung the song eight times before she was done digging. The hole was just the right size, deep underground where no one would come across it and disturb him. She uncovered the body and placed him on the ground. "May the lord spare you." She said as she heaved him into the hole. "May he spare all of us." Replied a voice. A man dressed in black walked towards her. "My name is Mortimer smith. I own the land you're digging up." Mary tried to be as polite as she could and at the same time not show the terror in her eyes at seeing this stranger. "I'm sorry sir I thought this was a deserted field; I am only putting the dead to rest. He was found this morning in the village. May I lay him here? As I have already dug a hole and I want to see him in peace." The man nodded his head bowed in a solemn form. "I'm sorry to hear of your loss." He said becoming quiet. "Was he a brother?" He asked gesturing to the body. "He was my cousin." Mary lied; he might think she was the murderer if she did not say he was a loved one. Mortimer nodded in understanding. "I must go now but you may bury him here as you wish." Mary bowed her head slightly in answer. "Goodbye." Mary watched him leave trying to shake of the eerie feeling he had left in the abandoned field…
Again I am running. Running from something I can never be rid of. Myself. The cover of nightfall has been lifted I stay low making sure no one sees me. It is early dawn, the sun is rising slowly, and everyone is asleep. But I can see a boy on the forest path. Why is he awake? I venture further following him with caution. He looks around him. Strange. He doesn't look backwards most travellers ONLY look backwards. The bandits hide in the caves and jump on them from the trees. Why is he not afraid? I watch him for awhile my eyes fixed on his shadow as he entered the caves. I followed melting into the shadows like smoke. He' stopping now