Enrike Fluence - Werecat Choice

– What a warm wool! – quite quietly she said, sniffing the mitten. Jacob’s arrival did not interest her at all.

Marianne drew back from the door, listened, and, hearing nothing from outside, sat down again on the bench next to the mouse. The bravery of the little animal was admirable.

– It seems he’s gone. What can a ghost do? Is it worth fearing them?

– It is only worth being afraid and avoiding that you do not know. That’s how the spirit world differs from the shadow world, you say?

– Isn’t it the same thing? Ghosts are ghosts.

“No,” Mignis said very quietly and cautiously, as if some other ghost might hear her. “And I think both of these worlds are both interesting and have dark energies. Sometimes this energy is released. Especially when these worlds intersect.

Marianne was amazed at Mignis’s response as well as the appearance of the dreaded Jacob. And the mouse, not noticing this, thoughtfully said:

– A manifestation of these forces is a rare, dangerous, but bewitching phenomenon.

Marianne did not like the answer and generally the topic of dark ghosts. To distract himself a little, he stirred the coals in the hearth and threw in fresh logs. Then I decided to see what he had in his backpack. He reached under the valve and pulled out a plastic water bottle. Only when he saw the water did Marianne feel how much thirsty he was. He hastily unscrewed the lid. Breathing heavily after long gulps, Marianne noticed that the mouse was looking at him strangely. The guess immediately flashed through my head. He carefully poured water into the bottle cap and placed it in front of Mignis. She sipped water, closing her eyes while drinking, then began to diligently rub her muzzle with her paws. Marianne was a little touched by this sight. He liked the mouse more and more. He smiled.

“This is much tastier than melted snow,” said Mignis, seeing Marianne’s incomprehensible smile.

Marianne continued to investigate the contents of the backpack. A package of sliced bread, ten wagons of cheese, cracker packages, about ten chocolate bars, and a second plastic bottle of water. They ate dinner with sandwiches. Mignis, however, ate quite a bit of cheese. She only smelled her own piece of bread and did not touch it. He had to be put back in his backpack.

There was a knock on the door. Marianne’s heart sank into her heels.

“Jacob is back!”

Marianne was confused. Now he is trapped. This time, nothing will distract Jacob. Then he will kill Marianne. The knock was repeated. And oddly enough, now at its sound it became easier. The ghost would pass freely through the door. Marianne dared to come closer. Someone pushed the door, then the words were heard:

– Open it! Let me in, please!

“A living person”.

Tired quiet voice. Marianne opened. A stranger wrapped in a fur coat quickly entered the house. He closed the door behind him, took off his hood and exhaled heavily.

– Uh-uh, finally warm!

He threw off his burden and sat down by the hearth to warm his hands. He had a short beard and bushy eyebrows. He looked Marianne up and down and said:

– Didn’t expect to meet anyone here. – Then he looked around the room and continued: – My name is Viator. And you? How did you get here?

– I’m Marianne… strayed from my class.

– Well, you look like a student. – Viator looked at Marianne’s jacket. – Are you alone here? – asked the guest, making sure that there was no one else in the room.

– Yes…

Viator was thinking about something. Marianne asked:

– Are you a hunter?

– Am I a hunter? – Viator almost laughed. – You can say so. Better tell me: how did you get off your own? And where are those of yours? Do they walk anywhere nearby?

– No. I’m lost, “Marianne said partially. Then he wondered what else to answer? Can’t he say that he has a “hidden beast” in his blood? Viator gave Marianne a displeased glance.

– My class and I went on a hike, and on the way back I fell behind. And then he fell off the hill. I went to this house by rail.

– On a hike? – asked Viator. – Nobody has been here for a long time. Especially on hikes. And how did you fall?

– I went to the edge of the mountain and stumbled. I was washed down by an avalanche.

– Yes, it happens. And what kind of school?

– Saint Elvis. I recently entered there.

Viator nodded.

– Yes, there is one. She’s a little south of here. I heard that the disciples there are called “saints”. And yet it’s just wonderful that you got here.

Marianne had never heard anyone call him or another student “saint.” It seemed to him that this was an unflattering nickname, and he looked at Viator in surprise.

– Wild lands here. You could freeze to death. … Well, I’ll help you.

Viator looked around and went to the chest in the corner. He put his backpack down next to him and began examining the insides of the old chest. Marianne hesitated, and then asked a question that was tearing him to pieces from the inside, although he felt that it was better not to ask:

– How did you end up here? Are you hunting here?

Viator chuckled to himself again. Marianne was embarrassed, and he decided not to say anything more. At least until the morning.

– I’m lost too. Just like you, – Viator smiled at his joke. – I walked with a friend to the east. We wanted to get to Esterby. His brother lives there. But they quarreled as soon as possible, and parted. I chose to walk along the railroad. And he – directly through the forest. Here’s a story. Now you can’t tell who was right. I’ll have to spend the night here with you. And he is probably already in Esterby. Sleeps, snores in a warm bed, my old friend. Like this!

Viator slammed the lid on the chest. Noticing Marianne’s questioning look, he explained:

– I left something here. Last time.

Then he fixed his gaze on Marianne’s backpack. Viator’s eyebrows came together on the bridge of his nose. He walked thoughtfully to the hearth, sat down by the fire and began to put logs. His face, lit by flames from below, looked stern and hard.

Marianne saw that Mignis was no longer on the bench. Looking more closely, he noticed her under the bench. She diligently dragged the woolen mitten into her burrow.

Marianne called out to her, but stopped short. He didn’t want Viator to see her. The man stared inquiringly at Marianne. Mignis disappeared into the shadows, leaving her mitten behind. Of course, she will come back for her.

– And how did you go hiking without snowshoes? – suddenly asked Viator.

Marianne shrugged.

“Lost,” he thought quickly.

– You are probably already looking for? – Viator took the phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

– I could tell who needs to, call the school, but there is no network. There is no signal at all in this area. Nowhere. Wow, it’s almost midnight. – Tomorrow I’ll show you the way. Don’t worry, go back to your school. Go to bed now. I’ll settle down on the bench. Not against?

Marianne settled down near the hearth. It’s warmer here than anywhere else in the house, he thought. Having warmed up by the fire, he felt an overwhelming weakness. Thoughts were confused, eyes closed themselves, the crackling of wood in the hearth soothed.

“And what tomorrow? Walk a little south until this Viator disappears, and then immediately north?”

Through sleep, Marianne felt someone nearby, a careful rustle and fuss. Something touched my ear. But the young man did not pay attention to it. “Mignis, I guess.”

Suddenly the dream washed away. Through the veil of slumber, Marianne heard a muffled exclamation, full of fear and horror. A yellow flash before his eyes seemed to burn his eyebrows. A strip of steel from a long knife blade flashed overhead. An indistinct black figure hovered in the air. And at the same instant fell on him. Marianne leaned to the side. The knife hit the floor where Marianne’s head had been a second ago. Ragged breathing smelled in my face.