5. Asher
five
Asher
" Y ou can't escape your destiny, Asher. There's no point in trying. What is going to that small town going to bring you?" Tiago's voice is brimming with venom.
I shove my shirts in my black duffel bag and keep quiet. One thing I've learned about Thiago is that arguing back with him never helps. It gets me riled up every single time, and he knows it.
"Asher, you're very blood flows in the direction of what the gods gave you," he continues.
"They didn't give me shit all right, they cursed me. I was perfectly fine before all of this." I turned back and continued shoving things in my bag. I clench my jaw tightly, doing my best to hold my tongue.
"You disgrace them by questioning their motives," Tiago says, practically spitting at me now.
I turned around and walked up to him practically face-to-face, "So fucking be it then." I turn away, zip up my bag, and toss it all the way over to the cabin's front door.
"So what are you gonna do? Drown your sorrows in ink and needles in some small dingy town?" He scoffs. "You have a job, Asher."
"No," I corrected him. "I had a job."
"You can't escape what the stars align for you."
"There you go again with that destiny bull shit. It's not destiny." I run a hand through my hair. "It's karma for trusting those I shouldn't have."
"You're right. It was you being stupid and trusting the wrong person."
The air begins to whip wildly around me, and I can feel the hold on my anger begin to slip. My skin burns as my cursed form begins to take shape, slowly inching up my skin from the tips of my fingers like snakes taking over. The cabin's candles dance wildly, most blowing out upon immediate contact.
"Say it again," I whisper. My voice fills the room around Tiago, like a tangle of serpents licking the air and searching for warm prey.
Tiago backs up slightly with his hands up in defense.
"Say it again." I take a step forward, and the cabin shakes. The tattoos sprawled across my now gray skin and up past my collarbones begin to illuminate.
Tiago stutters as if his breath catches in his throat, and his back hits a nearby wall.
"I didn't mean it like that, and you know that," he stutters, his voice defensive. He continually swallows as if his mouth and throat have never had a drop of water.
"Then how did you mean it?" I say stone cold. I take another step forward, my right foot coming down like a heavy black hoof and splintering the floor before me.
"Say it again," I hissed.
"Asher, I'm sorry, but you can't run from this forever."
I snap around, turning back to the bed and regaining my composure. The air stills, and I clench my fist, turning my knuckles white. I snatch up my heavy leather jacket off the bed, throw it over my shoulder, and reach the door.
"So what's the plan then, huh?" Tiago says, crossing his arms. "You're gonna run away to some small rinky dink town?" He laughs out loud. "Live an everyday life? You lost that option a long time ago, Asher."
I continue walking to the door. "Well, Tiago, I officially relieve you of your duties. I don't need a fucking babysitter anymore."
"You know I can't do that," his voice is heavy with sudden fear.
"Let me rephrase: I don't want to see you anymore."
Tiago hesitates, looking around as if uneasy. "Asher, please don't do that; you know I don't have a choice."
"Well, you do now. Keep your distance and leave me the fuck alone, or you die. Those are your new choices."
"Asher, please," Tiago pleads. "You know I can't just let you walk away. You have a duty now."
"Then stop me," I step up to him. My body vibrates with anticipation.
My words sting Tiago, and he lets out a small breath. "Asher, please."
I reach the door, stopping momentarily to look over my shoulder at him. "You can apologize every fucking day for the rest of your life, and it wouldn't be enough. Consider yourself the luckiest fucking man on earth. Do you want to talk about fucking destiny? Since you know so much about it, don't forget that my job is caring for people like you. To punish people who deserve it. Do you think that you deserve it, Tiago?"
Tiago is shocked; his body is rigid, and he doesn't respond.
"Babysit the fucking cabin. If I see your face anywhere near that town, consider yourself relieved of your position."
I swing the door open, and a blast of cold air stings my face. It's nearly a blizzard outside, and the path leading away from the cabin is covered at the same height as the rest of the snow.
"Asher, please," Tiago tries one more time.
I step out of the door and shut it behind me, not even looking back at him.
"Here's your key, son," the innkeeper tosses a key on the counter at me, and I snatch it without responding. Your room is at the end of the hall on the left. Don't make too much noise."
I made my way down the hall, shoving the key in the door and turning it open. The room was dingy, with a single bed in the center and two nightstands on either side. The bathroom had a toilet, and a cramped, standup shower edged with mold. The curtains were see-through on the window, and there were no blinds.
I tossed my bag on the bed, which landed with a heavy thud. Then, I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it over as well.
"Fucking bastard," I mumble out loud as Tiago's face crosses my mind.
I walked past the bathroom and stopped as I caught a glance of myself in the large, rounded mirror on the wall. I sighed.
My hair was long and disheveled again from walking through the snow. I preferred to keep it short as it was easier to manage, but anytime I used an ounce of this damn curse, it caused my hair to grow substantially. Usually, Tiago would cut it off for me, but seeing him and I have officially parted ways, I've met a dead end.
The tips of my ears and nose were deep red from the cold, and my lips were chapped and dry. I snapped open a nearby drawer only to find it empty. I began opening dozens of drawers of the dresser and then made my way to the bathroom. Snapping open a drawer, I found a plastic-wrapped toothbrush, a small container of toothpaste, scissors, and a small baggie of floss.
I snatch the scissors and grab my hair tightly, bringing it in front of my shoulders. I snip the hair off near my collarbone, and it falls to the floor in inky black pools.
"This will do for now," I mumble, tossing the scissors back into the drawer. It wasn't even, and it was longer than I would like, but it would do for now. I run my hands through my hair and begin looking around. I walk over to the Lacey-stained curtains and rip a strip off, using it to tie my hair into a high bun.
Suddenly, a knock comes at the door, and I hesitate.
"Room service," a small voice comes through the thin door.
"Now is not a good time," I reply.
The handle begins jiggling as someone shoves a key in, and the door swings open to reveal a short, elderly woman dressed in an old maid uniform. She is carrying a vacuum, a bag full of dusters, and various cleaning supplies.
She sees me and immediately stops, her face turning red.
"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't hear you."
"It's Fine, don't worry about it. I was heading out anyways."
"Out in this weather?" she said, shocked. Her eyes were wide, and she began setting down her things in the nearby dresser.
"I've been through worse," I chuckle, grabbing my coat and sliding it on.
"Well, honey, the weather will get much worse here soon. I hope you make it back safe." She plugs in her vacuum and sets it against the wall, looking around the room. You haven't done much damage yet, have you?" she says, putting her hands on her hips.
"I just got in," I say, smiling warmly to her.
"God bless your heart," she sighs. You saved me a bunch of work." She smiles to herself, looks around, and scoffs. "You don't look the part, but you seem to be a real gentleman."
"I don't look the type?" I chuckle
"Well honey, have you seen yourself? We don't get a lot of people like you around here."
She was right. It was rare to find someone with my stature and look. My tattoos were black and swirling, practically covering both arms and swirling past my collarbones.
Though I did most of my tattoos myself, the one that swirls up my spine and the intricate dancing tattoo of a goat head that sat on my shoulder was a gift that came along with the curse
"I'm not saying you're ugly, son. I'm just saying you look mighty different than the men I see daily," she grins at me and winks before sitting on the bed and pulling out a small book. "If you'll be out of town for a while, I'll hang out here. If you do not mind, of course."
I chuckle. "Don't go too crazy in here," I say before walking out the door and shutting it gently behind me. I make my way down the hall and through the small motel. It's a long, dirty hall with an unoccupied front desk.
I open the door and begin walking toward the nearby town. Not long ago, I contacted a shop owner there who promised to give me an apprenticeship.
Not that I needed one.
But it was a good cover-up; it would allow me to regain my old life.
The wind begins picking up, and the snow begins falling harder. Though I was never a fan of the cold in my life, unfortunately, I no longer had a choice but to be out in it.