Ana
My brain wouldn’t let me rest after taking two more souls.
For a week, I would extinguish the candles every time Andrei would light them.
I preferred the unlit chamber to hide the dark thoughts that crossed my mind.
I imagined how the countless years would replace my twenty-three, how I would saunter across Earth, with my scythe bloodied from taking evil souls.
Several times, I punctured my finger on the shiny glass of the Mirror, looking for my family.
Hoping that my sacrifice was not in vain, I closed my eyes, breathing the darkness.
I asked Andrei several times to get me any type of religious object. The first time he mocked me, the second time he laughed, and the third time he just threw me a look over his shoulder, as if I was mad.
Picturing the image of Saint Ana that I kept in my old room, I prayed each night. For my soul and even the souls I took.
One day, the longing for my family wouldn’t let me sleep. Thrashing the covers that pinched my skin, I stood up.
My steps took me over the icy stone floor, the coldness not bothering me anymore. I even asked Andrei to stop lighting the fire in the soba. It didn’t do much for me anymore.
There were still many questions on the tip of my lips, some left unanswered by God.
Will I keep my sanity? Or will it go down the Saturday’s River? Would His words still guide me while my scythe goes down?
Would God forgive me and allow me to join Him in Paradise? Or would He let me rot in Hell with the devil?
Thinking about it, I have not heard from the Goat Man for a while.
From the moment I returned, stained by the two people’s blood, we have not uttered a word to each other. The silence between us was slicing my skin. But there was no way God would allow me to cross the Gates of Heaven when I was still talking about the Goat Man.
Even though I was more affected by him than when I was human with a beating heart.
Odd sensation to not have a heart. And somehow, the feelings remained, crawling the walls of my own skull, trying to break loose.
My fingers drifted over the walls, the stone not hurting me anymore. It was either that I got used to the feeling or my skin was thicker than before. The candles burned low, wax weeping onto the stone.
I held my breath as I got out of the cave, my pulse quickening. My naked feet touched the smooth grass. Blinking, I adjusted to the pool of light from outside, eyes shifting to my family’s house.
Until then, I didn’t notice how clear it could be seen from the cave.
The stallion came to me, nuzzling my hair, as if it knew where I wanted to go. Its dark coat shone in the sunrays, its fangs ready to slash.
“Hello, boy,” I said, touching its coat. “This I must face alone. I promise, we will ride in the morning, but I need to see them.”
I gulped the humid air and took a step towards my family.
The green needle-covered ground was hard underneath my feet, a path forming in front of me. The neighing of the stallion sounded as a warning, but my ears did not want to register its cry.
My eyes darted left to right, the thought that I should not go further circling in my head.
Ignoring it, I advanced, the tall weeds tickling my fingertips.
And then I pushed off my legs towards my family, the sensation of my blood rushing through my veins exhilarating.
Not minding the song of the birds or the howls of the wolves, I reached the middle of the forest. I looked behind, but no one stood at the entrance of the cave.
Hope raised in my heart that I could see my family once more.
That I could feel the embrace of my mum and see the loving smile of Angelica. Maybe I could see her as a bride.
The pure veil, covering her cherub face, her doe eyes shining from the tears and the cream-pale dress hugging her lean figure.
My hand rested on a trunk, my breath calming as joyful birds flew to the clearing of the deep forest. Like them, I wanted to fly, but my arms and legs stayed put.
Again, I looked behind me. It felt as if I betrayed them.
But that couldn’t be right. I grew fond of Andrei and the stallion. It was easier with them. With them, my pulse didn’t threaten to break my veins. From them, my thoughts weren’t clouded.
Making up my mind, I stepped forward.
From my ears, blood streamed over my cheeks and down my jaw. I followed with my eyes the drip-drip of the thick, crimson liquid, as it created a puddle around my feet.
The excruciating pain hit afterwards.
Burning ache started from my insides, flaming my entrails.
My scream splintered the trees, cracking branches like bone, wood floating by my face. My eyes closed, instinct kicking in.
My hands felt numb, as if all the blood from my body had travelled there. My feet swished around, taking a single step. But my mind slowly shut. The last image I had was of my sister running on a green hill, followed by Gavril and one other man. A man with the scent of old books and wax.
“Ana.” The man was calling my name. “Please let me hear your harsh words again. Please.” His voice broke on the last word, as if I were his anchor in this life.
My eyes opened to blue swirls. The Goat Man stood over me, a look of concern passing through his eyes.
“What happened?” I muttered, my voice a raw whisper from the pain. My senses slowly came back as he carried me to his lair.
The last thing I remembered before closing my eyes again was the sunrays between the fir’s needles.
Later, I tried standing up; however, there were too many blankets made of wool on my body. They scratched my skin to the point of bleeding. With my mind, I hurled them away, trying to control the urge to put my fingers to the wounds.
His hand flew to my waist, holding me in place.
“Keep still. The pain is gone now,” he murmured in my ear, goosebumps spreading all over my sensitive spots.
His touch was a balm to my aching soul. The warmth from his hand spread through my ie, a sensation I began to like and, without shame, to accept.
The memory of the searing pain I felt outside the lair punched behind my eyes.
“What happened there?”
Everything was a blur. I could not recall the moment I hit the ground, nor when I was settled on my bed.
The Goat Man took his arm off me, then stepped away. He swallowed, a pang hitting my pulse. I felt his hesitation.
Without saying a word, I took my Mirror and watched his reflection. His lean muscles were clenched, his head shaking.
“Goat, what is it?” I asked, horrified.
At once, he turned, his eyes set on my feet. He took one deep breath and laid the truth before me.
“In the contract that I made you sign, I had written in small letters that you are not allowed to leave the perimeter of the lair…”
His words registered slowly.
“Look at me,” I growled, my own voice unknown to me.
Midnight lashes still covered his fair cheeks. Anger pushed through my body as shame crept over his skin.
“Look me in the eyes, Goat Man!” I demanded, my head held high. I imagined his neck constricting. And just like that, the Goat Man tried to breathe.
And he still didn’t face my wrath.
I felt in the air as his pulse tightened, a whimper breaking his lips. My mind released him from suffering. Realising what I had done, I took a step backwards.
This was not me.
“Please…” I begged, the state of him turning my fury into distress, the day I signed the contract, coming in waves to me.
So many things have happened since I put my name on that paper. It seemed like a lifetime.
“You made me sacrifice too much for your selfish reasons, Goat Man.” I ignored the hurt on his face, my eyes swelling from the tears I left unshed. “You hurt me more than my father did with his hands.”
The words I uttered pushed him back, his eyes hardening. His hands shook, his nostrils flaring.
“I am not like him,” he whispered, his words hitting the walls.
“You’re even worse.”
He took a step back, his shoulders sagging.
“At least he didn’t kill his own family.” I couldn’t stop myself from throwing those words. “You’ve stripped me of thought, of belief. Even of heart! And now I cannot see my family?”
My hands went slack. From the corner of my eye, I saw his head slumping, his chin touching his hemp shirt. He stood still, taking my attack.
The silence that followed my sullen words stretched to the point of hurting.
“Why, Goat Man? Why can I not see them?” My voice was just a whisper, touching his skin and making him shake.
He moved away from me, shifting the air and extinguishing the candles one by one, leaving us in complete darkness.
“So, you won’t stray away from your path. I did it to have you under my thumb and fulfil my wish of feeling something again. Because now, I cannot feel fully what I wish to.”
I swallowed my words because I had no energy to make him more miserable than he already was.
“I deserve everything you throw at me. Every word, every deadly gaze, every sigh,” he whispered. My hand stretched an inch forward. A soft fabric touched my skin, but this time, I didn’t cower.
I held my head straighter, pinning him with emptier eyes than his. “And what do you want to feel that is so important? That you would trick a girl into that wretched contract?” I whispered, the rage dimming. I felt his eyes roaming over my face, leaving flames in their wake.
He took a step back, letting the cold replace him. “Something changed between the moment you signed your name and today.”
“Yes, many things have changed. My conflicting feelings towards your world are one of them. Or my body missing the thump of a heart!”
“Spare me your words! You miss the thump of your heart? How about mine? Missing for centuries!” He came again into my space, sparring me with his words and eyes.
“You chose to be this! I didn’t!” My legs took me closer to him, my nose touching his, the darkness hiding my turmoil.
“Are you sure about that? Because I am not anymore…”
He wasn’t talking about me, that was for certain.
“What do you mean?” I whispered, my eyes searching his face.
And then I realised. He wanted to feel everything, from sorrow to joy, from love to hate, from anger to content.
“I must beg forgiveness,” he mumbled, the words barely coming out.
“And now, Goat Man… what stirs within you?” I questioned, placing a hand over his chest, the contact breaking me. For one moment, I wanted to forget this bridge before us. My faith and his nature. My soul and his sins.
Through the darkness, I felt his eyes on me. Taking a deep breath, he answered. “Shame.” He sighed. “Sadness.” The Goat Man swallowed. “Too much at once.”
I squeezed his shirt between my fingers.
Choosing a path was never easy. One could turn one's back on evil, touching the light. And one could ignore the warm rays of goodness and pass through shadows to join malice. I was right in the middle, looking each way. And every time I was next to this man, I felt my spirit leaving me.
“I want you to make a vow to me,” I said, the tone of my voice low.
His silence was answer enough for me.
“I want you to promise that you will never put me under your power again. Vow me this, and I will forgive you.”
The Goat Man took my hand and shook it once, gently.
“I vow all the above and more.”