MonsterVille
Thirty One

River sat in front of the crackling fire place, a log creaked and shifted as he gazed into the flickering flames. They danced like fireflies, bright sparks in the dark of night. There were no lights on in the house, no starlight wondering in from beyond. The shattered glass doors let the chilly early-morning in and River huddled into the blanket draped around his shoulders. His hands tightened on the mug of hot cocoa that he had barely sipped.

The heat was nice in his palms, but it hurt too much going down. Mellie’s nails had cut deep—he wasn’t entirely sure how he was alive actually, she had neatly sliced into an artery and somehow Lina had saved him? It was hard to recall exactly what had happened, but he still felt the cold touch of her ice on his throat. The way she had stood in his mind and spoken with him while he lay on death’s doorstep. He wondered if that was real, or just a delusion brought on by blood loss.

He sighed.

It didn’t really matter. He was alive. She was there. She was a monster. A Snegurochka; Mellie had called her. Some kind of Slavic winter elemental. She hadn’t been too clear on the details and River didn’t overly care. He was still in shock.

The events of the entire night weighed on him, Madelina, Aura, Danny, the blemmyes and running for his life through the woods. The rat creatures all too human face that he had—he shook his head to chase the thoughts away. He couldn’t think about that. He didn’t dare. He could still feel her wet blood clinging to his fingers…

One of the berserker’s snored outside, a thunderous grumble. River wasn’t sure what to make of them either. So much had changed in one night and yet so much remained the same. He was still Mellie’s property, still a slave in a town of monsters, still looking over his shoulder waiting for the inevitable end that would befall him. For a moment, a shining moment, he had thought he might be ok, that he might survive…but what was the point? His life was a lie. His friends, his ex, they were monsters, literal monsters that killed and ate people.

He pulled the blanket tighter around himself. A part of him ached to feel arms around him, to feel the lie that comfort offered and not to be sitting there alone waiting for the next piece of hell to rain down.

A sharp rap on the door jerked River from his thoughts. He stared across the living room to the only door that was still attached to its hinges. The rapping came again, and he swallowed hard. It was three am, in the human world that was a no man’s hour, in the monster world? It was a civilised evening hour. The fact that everyone else in the house was fast asleep was the oddity.

Did he answer the door?

Whoever was out there rapped again and River discarded the comfort of his blanket and set the cocoa aside. In the end he decided what did he have to lose? The worst that could happen was some monster would kill him.

He painstakingly pushed to his feet; every part of his body ached. His shoulder throbbed from the rat’s bite, his arm felt useless from an earlier rat bite, and his throat? God how it hurt. He gently touched his neck, traced his fingers along the thin pale pink skin. Weeks of healing in a matter of hours—Madelina had saved his life, he would give her that.

He reached the door, grasped the cool handle and greeted his fate. It was a little girl, maybe five or six with big eyes and dark pigtails. She wore a loose black dress and offered him a toothy smile—she was missing her two front teeth, and it was adorable in a very human way.

She giggled as she offered him a thick cream envelope. He reached for it without thought, she giggled again, turned and skipped off into the night. Dancing to a beat only she could hear. River swallowed hard, and tried to catch his breath. The second she turned from him he realised those big eyes of hers had been solid black. A queasy terror ran through the pit of his stomach and he stumbled back into the house—slamming the door shut.

That little girl had been one of the black-eyed kids and he had opened the door. …

River collapsed back onto the remnants of the couch.

The envelope clutched in his hand. It was thick with texture, sealed with dark black wax. Or it had been, he had crushed the seal when he fell back onto the couch. It was addressed to ‘Melanie’. River opened it anyway.

Melanie,

You are cordially invited to attend the Harvest Festivities,

HelljFord Manor,

Beneath the Solar Eclipse,

As my personal guest,

Regards, Elyse.

“Do I even want to know?” he muttered.

Harvest Festivities. It sounded quaint. He was sure in a Monster Town ‘Harvest’ was the same as anywhere else right? Reap the fields, feast on the bounty; a general excuse for the townsfolk to let loose and blow off some steam in communal reverie. Oh yeah, he was sure that was it. There wouldn’t be anything depraved, sadistic or brutalising about a Harvest that would leave him even more emotional scared than he already was.

River sighed heavily and got up. The chances of him getting any sleep with his mind thundering over the horrific possibilities… he might as well get started on breakfast.

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