Ensnared

[Stoat]

ONE

Leaving his barracks, Major Jeske Vardogr jogged along the streets of New Berlin, hunching himself in a vain attempt to protect himself from the cold. Pools of light dotted the murky darkness, as the incessant sleet soaked and froze everything in equal measure. He had to get home, and he had to get there fast. He wasn't sure why, he just new something was driving him. Fear? Maybe. Concern? Probably not. He'd not felt much concern for his family since his father had beaten him, with his mother looking on. No, something was going to happen, and he knew he had to be there to witness.

As he neared the transit station, something made him stop dead in his tracks. There, some fifty feet in front of him, was what appeared to be his mother. She was dressed in mourning, and kneeling in the middle of the snow laden pavement, seemingly weeping. Jeske felt the nape of his neck start to crawl, and he edged closer.

"Mother?" he called, warily. "Mother, is that you? What are you doing here?"

As the distance closed, what he thought was his mother rose and turned to face him. What he saw was a ghastly apparition. His mother, certainly, but with a face withered into a screaming death mask. As he recoiled in fear and disgust, the apparition pointed at him. A high, piercing wail emanated from the spirit, and it rushed towards him.

"No!" he screamed as it closed, and he threw up his arms in some pretense of self-preservation. All that hit him was a warm wind that whispered as it passed. He lowered his arms slowly, then started patting himself, making sure all his limbs were present, and there were no unexpected holes anywhere. His heart pounded in his ears. He was afraid now. Sweat dripped from his scalp, running icy trickles down his back. He gagged, once, and stumbled forward, pace after pace, speed building until he was running full pelt to the transit station.

The train was deserted. Unusual, but not unheard of. He settled into a seat, feeling intensely uncomfortable. Shadows leapt at him from the edges of his vision, and he was constantly flinching. Every flicker of the lighting held unseen demons. His hearing seemed preternaturally acute. Screams and panicked calls clawed the edges of his senses. Yet for all this, he was alone. As the train rattled unceasingly on, he calmed slightly. The monsters in the shadows retreated, along with the adrenalin, and a deep, numbing chill settled upon him. Stations flashed past in a blur. Occasionally an unseen passenger would enter the carriage. On seeing the hunched form of Jeske shivering, mumbling, and rocking back and forth, they quietly moved on, and Jeske remained alone.

Eventually his stop was announced over the tannoy, and he rose. As the train came to a juddering halt, the doors slipped open, and Jeske stepped back into the freezing air. The sleet had returned to the usual snow, lending everything an ethereal beauty and silence. His breath pluming in front of him, he crunched through the unbroken snow coating the platform. Home was close now. Familiarity with the surroundings flooded his senses, and he moved forward in an almost trance-like state. His steps warmed him, and with the warmth came awareness. He slowed as he reached the street his parents house was on. After what he had seen earlier, he wasn't sure he wanted to be here. He could turn around. He could return to the safety of his barracks and never look back. He sighed. He had to know what had brought him to this place, at this moment. Wasn't it curiosity that had killed the cat?

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