Chapter 5 Corabeth
Five
Corabeth
A great black shadow stood just beyond the circle of light cast by the blaze.
Corabeth could not tell if it had any distinguishable features or if it was simply a solid mass of black.
Her breaths came unevenly as she looked over her shoulder, expecting the Beast to pounce.
She had made peace with her death, that didn’t mean she wasn’t utterly terrified.
“Please,” she said weakly, not sure if the Beast could hear her. Not even sure it understood her. “Make it quick, make it painless.”
The Shadowbeast simply stood, unmoving and stoic. Corabeth couldn’t see its eyes, but she could feel the weight of its gaze. Felt herself being picked apart, judged. For a moment, Corabeth thought she saw it tilt its head.
The seconds seemed to stretch endlessly under the gaze of the Beast as she did her best to keep herself still in the cold grip of fear. Every instinct told her she was in the presence of a predator, and she should run. Apparently, her instincts were not yet aware she had nowhere to run.
The raven called again, louder this time, and the Shadowbeast shifted slightly.
Corabeth felt its attention slip from her.
It hesitated for just a moment before it started gliding along the circle of light.
She frowned when she realized the Beast wasn’t coming for her at all.
Instead, it moved apathetically towards the misty woods.
A new kind of panic reared its head inside Corabeth. The panic of being left behind, of being left to live whatever semblance of a life she had left, come morning.
The shadow slipped into the dark trees, half-swallowed by the mist that nearly glowed in the light of the moon. All at once, the sounds of the world came rushing back.
“Wait!” called Corabeth and scrambled to her feet. She hurried after the Beast, scared to lose it in the darkness and the fog. The Beast might have thought it was done with Corabeth, but she was not done with the Beast.
“Wait!” she demanded again, angry now. Angry that she was denied even by death itself.
The Shadowbeast was ahead of her, weaving in and out of the trees, always out of reach but never so far that Corabeth might have lost it. The mist surrounding it softened its edges, muffled any sounds that might have come from it. She now saw the distinct shape of the Beast’s head and shoulders.
Sharp branches snagged on Corabeth’s dress as she hurried forward, determined to look death in the face. Ahead, the Beast disappeared behind a thick oak tree and seconds later emerged somewhere to her right, much too fast to cover that much ground.
Corabeth’s breath was visible in the cold air, branches snapping underfoot as she struggled to keep up, a strange urgency driving her forward.
Once again, the Beast vanished, only to reappear in an unexpected place, its movements defying the rules that bound Corabeth. Above her head came the sound of beating wings, and a raven called again. Was it trying to warn her just as she had once hoped the ravens would?
She looked up and saw the raven land on a branch, its feathers taking on a silvery gleam in the moonlight. The bird looked at Corabeth, tilted its head, and peered towards where the Beast had been heading. But when Corabeth looked ahead, she only saw gray mist. No movement, no Shadowbeast.
For a moment, she had thought the Beast was leading her somewhere, goading her to follow. Now she felt it had only been toying with her.
Corabeth came to a stop, looking all around her. Nothing but the jagged, dark shapes of trees, mist, and moonlight that gave everything an eerie, cold glow.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she realized that somehow her situation had worsened. She was now lost in the woods, not even sure which way the village was.
What was a person to do when everyone in this world, even death, denied her?
Another croak pulled Corabeth from her spiraling thoughts. When she looked up, she saw that another raven had joined the first one. Two more landed in a tree nearby. Then the first raven took flight, finding a new spot in a tree further away. It called again, as if urging Corabeth to keep going.
Releasing a shaky breath, she began walking again.
This time, there was no towering shadow in the fog to lead her, only the beating of wings and the croaks of ravens.
They formed an unbroken obsidian chain, guiding her forward.
As Corabeth approached each raven, it took flight, gliding ahead to become the newest link in the chain.
The trees started to thin out, and then there was no more mist. Nestled in a clearing sat a two-story mansion bathed in moonlight.
Its intricate, weathered stonework was adorned with sharp gables and spires that reached upward like claws.
The arched windows, now cold and black, resembled hollow eyes staring back at Corabeth.
A grand staircase led up to heavy double doors, their surface etched with elaborate carvings.
The sheer size of the ominous structure sent a shiver down Corabeth’s spine. Again, she felt the oppressive weight of being watched, unsure if the Beast was lurking nearby or if it were the eyes of the house that unsettled her.
All four ravens took flight, joined by others from the nearby woods, and flew towards the mansion, finding landing spots on various parts of the house.
Corabeth walked down a barely noticeable path towards the house, being pulled by its dark allure, now sure that the ravens had guided her here.
The stone staircase was cracked, and vines crept up the steps, over the handrails. When Corabeth reached the looming double doors, she noticed that the dried leaves and debris in front of the door had been swept aside, as if someone had swept through here recently.
The thought of turning around and fleeing crossed her mind, not for the first time. Once more, she was reminded of the fact that she had nothing to return to, and her heart plummeted. She was still out searching for death.
Corabeth placed a shaky hand on the wooden door and pushed. It fell open with a loud creak, the sound echoing into the vast emptiness inside. The smell of mildew and damp wood hit her as she took a hesitant step into the cavernous entryway.
She managed only one more step before the door slammed shut behind her, and she felt a heavy hand wrap around the back of her neck.
“You don’t belong here,” growled a deep voice before Corabeth was dragged away.