The carriage sped on for hours,
as if they were in some race against time.
By the time the orange of dusk
painted Hilda’s face in a carroty hue,
the carriage again came to a sudden stop.
Hearing the driver descend from his box,
he again swung open the door, and said,
“By order of the queen, I am instructed
to collect any religious material,
or objects that could offend her majesty.
This includes Bible’s and crucifixes.
He extended his long arm inside
and as he did so, the girls noticed
that as his sleeve slid up his arm,
exposing his bare wrist, a curious
burn scar is if from a red-hot crucifix
being pressed against his flesh.
When Hilda looked back up to him,
she saw him glaring down
at her mother’s Bible.
Without a word, he kept his gloved,
open hand before them, waiting.
Then one girl reached into her pocket
and dropped a crucifix into his palm.
With a sigh, the second girl reached into
her bag, and placed it into the driver’s
now cupped hands. The third girl
then exclaimed to him, “I have nothing!”
And she looked away folding her arms.
The driver stared at her
moments of heartbeats followed
in tense silence.
Then the driver looked again at the Bible
resting in Hilda’s lap. And with a sterness,
he said, “the Bible, please.” He made
a motion with his cupped hands.
Peering down at the Bible, Hilda raised it
to her lips to kiss it, and as she did so,
a tear dropped onto the cover.
And she placed it into his hands.
“Are we all certain that I have collected everything?
Anything that will disappoint
her majesty?” The driver made eye contact
with every girl in the carriage before adding,
“Good! One more command I received
from her majesty, I am to inform you
that when we have reached the boundaries
of her forest…” Here he paused,
“We will make no stops while traversing it.
It is fierce, unwelcoming, and not for
pious girls. If we do happen to stop,
it is to relight the lamps of the carriage.
Do not, under any circumstances step out.”
All the girls looked at eachother
with confusion in their expressions.
Hilda spoke up and asked the driver,
“Why? Why has her majesty commanded
you to take what you have from us?”
Without answer, the driver shut the door.
Then the familiar cracking of the whip,
and the now familiar jolt of starting again.
One girl crossed herself
and the others followed.
Hilda remembered the silver crucifix
that her mother had given her
before leaving home that morning.
Hilda felt the need to speak
to ease her own sickening trepidation.
Hilda pulled out the silver crucifix
so the other girls could see
and perhaps feel an ease in tension.
One girl gasped, “how could you!
You have defied the queen’s command!”
Hilda responded, “a command not to offend her?
She wrote herself she was placed
where she is by God himself!
Why can’t we have anything religious?
And what was that scar on the driver’s
skin in the shape of a cross? Didn’t you all notice, too? And why is her forest fierce?
What meant his silence
of what I asked of him!”
One girl braved the moment, confessing,
“It gives me a fright!”
Looking at each of the other girls,
and then back to Hilda, the same girl
added in heightened emotion,
“you were right! Keep it!
But hidden and close to your heart!
God keep you!” Here the girl asked
as she began to weep,
“What is your name? You’re braver than I!”
“Hilda.”
“Hilda what?”
“Hilda Muller, of Giessen.”
Wiping the tears from her face,
the girl introduced herself as she choked,
“Frieda, Frieda Belloff. Of Fruhdorf.”
Finally, the other girls broke into tears.
Hilda removed the silver crucifix
from her neck, and wrapped it around her hand. Then she extended it before
the girls, and asked them to join hands
with her in prayer. Gasping at first,
Frieda was the first to place her hand
over Hilda’s. The others followed.
Hilda then recited the Lord’s prayer.
All eyes shut and heads bowed,
their weeping intensified as they prayed.
Then Hilda asked of them,
“What is important to you all?”
Frieda answered first, “God!”
“Family!” another answered.
The third girl kept silent, covering her
mouth in some dreadful anticipation.
“We remain pious, we pray
and never forget who we are!
Promise me, girls,” Hilda whispered.
All nodded. And as the orange of dusk
chilled to the blue of twilight,
their silence was exclamatop g ctry.
Hilda hid the silver crucifix
and kept vigilance, eyeing
the darkening world outside.
***
The light of the carriage lamps
was apparent when the ink of night
was spilled across the world
they had now entered.
“This… is her forest?” Frieda stuttered.
The trees were not bleached-bone
but rather with black bark
and twisted limbs, the ends of which
tapered into sharp, leafless points.
The shrubbery lining the road
was dense and wicked like the trees.
Then appearing in the dark,
with more intensity than a flickering flame,
were plants of sorts that Hilda had never
laid eyes on. Whose petals possessed a
luminescence which reflected in the eyes
of the girls who leaned to the window
to witness pass by them.
“What could it be! What could it
possibly be!” Frieda exclaimed.
Another girl exclaimed,
“its the mark of the devil’s presence!
God save us!”
Hilda gazed through the now frosting glass,
trying to get as much of a glimpse
as she could of this strange, new world.
“Should we pray again?” Frieda asked.
But there was no answer.
***
The carriage sped on into the darkness.
Agonizing hours passed and the girls
all fell asleep despite the rocking
of the carriage. Their heads bobbing about.
Then as if a bolt of lightning had struck,
a flash that originated behind
their shut eyelids,
and a violent jolt,
Hilda opened her eyes and found herself
atop of Frieda. The limbs of all the girls
intertwined as she realized the carriage
was on its side and a horrific cry
from the horses followed,
which did not awaken the others.
As the horses did so, it was apparent
something was lurking beyond
the carriage which frightened them.
The sounds of their cries,
the sensation of them pulling
on the carriage, as it scraped a few feet.
Then their cries became more intense,
as their was a strange and frightening
growl beyond the shattered window,
which now faced upwards into the sky.
“Driver!” Hilda cried.
Then turning to Frieda, Hilda screamed,
“Wake up! Anybody!”
Then silence followed.
As if the horses had vanished.
Then Hilda’s eyes fixed on the full moon,
which had broken through the cloud cover,
giving some sort of light of hope.
Then the growl outside returned.
To her ears, it was nearing closer,
and closer she held her silver crucifix
within her closed hand, against her heart.
A heart by that point which had become
a beating fist within. And felt
like it would punch through her chest.
Thoughts of her family
began to whirl in her mind.
This internal windstorm
began to weather her hope.
But her faith persisted,
anchored within her soul.
But now within this sea
of the otherworldly,
the unnatural, this forest,
which felt like it had eyes,
a beastly growl, and darkness
which even the light of her iron faith,
could not force it to withdraw from her.
As she came to this conclusion,
two bright red stars appeared
through the window, which
outshined the the full moon.
At first, Hilda was convinced
it was some sort of sign
that she was crossing over
into the afterlife, not heaven, not hell,
but into some netherworld,
which contradicted everything
the Bible had taught her.
“It can’t be…” Hilda whispered.
“Lord, not yet… not yet…”
Then as if drips of warm rainfall
fell onto her face, believing
she was feeling this netherworld,
that rain, which now fell onto her lips,
did not taste like water from the sky.
Rather, copper-tasting and revolting.
Hilda again opened her eyes,
with more clarity of vision,
within the backdrop of the moonlight,
Hilda made out the silhouette
of a wolf’s head
with two piercing red-gold eyes
that appeared like a human’s
but larger, and elongated ears
that tapered to a point.
Then the whites of four,
long canine teeth were bared.
More of the copper-tasting
fluid then came down in thick,
strings like saliva as the wolf
opened its mouth and bared
two rows of sharp teeth.
More of the mystery mixed
with its saliva, and Hilda
then knew from wiping her face,
that it was blood.
Inside she screamed,
outwardly she was catatonic
and could not move again.
A paralysis throughout her body
which she now felt as she gazed
into the deep, red eyes of inevitability.
Then the wolf snarled viscously.
It’s crimson tongue licking it’s lips
as it glared back at Hilda.
“Lord, make my death swift!”
The soft blue of her eyes,
the harsh red of the wolf’s,
again, she cried, “monster! Kill me already!”
Then a whine from Frieda,
who’s limbs still weaved with the other’s.
Hilda broke the agonizing eye contact
and combed Frieda’s hair with her fingers,
“It’s ok, girl, we’re going to heaven…”
Then the hand of the wolf creeped in,
a robust hand, with long fingers
and nails which appeared red
in the moonlight with blood.
Horrible fingers which curved
and wrapped over the edge
of the shattered window.
Then leaning in, it’s nostrils
now inside the carriage,
flared as they sniffed.
Then there was an expression
Hilda noticed, almost human-like
on the wolf, it’s thin eyebrows
positioned in such a way
which exhibiting the look of surprise.
It was at this moment
that the wolf’s terrible hand
eased into the carriage,
it’s approach brought
now thundering heartbeats
within Hilda’s chest as Frieda
was still half conscious
and began moaning loudly.
As the wolf’s claw curled
and then the fingers flared,
Frieda shook violently
as she lifted her head to Hilda.
Her twitching eyes barely open,
her sudden gasping for air,
her agonizing whine,
and the blood covering her face,
unknowingly enticing the wolf.
The claw paused flared
before Hilda’s neck…
time had ceased to tick.
The as sudden as lightning
striking the earth from the heavens,
the wolf made a grasp
around Frieda’s throat.
Choking with the sudden flow
of air ceasing into her body,
Frieda’s eyes bulged,
rapidly moving about,
her own bloody hand naturally
grasped around the robust,
hairy wrist of the the hand
which strangled her.
Hilda could not scream,
instead a short, squeaky
whine radiated.
Then slowly raising Frieda
by her slender throat,
her eyes, Hilda noticed,
were now fixed on the
terrible eyes of the wolf.
Higher into the air
and closer to its jaws,
Frieda lost the strength
to grasp its wrist any longer.
Hey hand became weight,
useless weight that
could no longer resist death.
Raised face to face with the wolf,
the softness of her innocence
matched with the brutal harshness
of a creature that must of crawled
out of from the pitiless depths of hellfire.
What happened next made Hilda
squeeze her eyelids shut reviled,
and become blind to the moment,
her ears could not ignore Frieda’s agony.
Then, as if the wolf intentionally
waited for Hilda to open her eyes,
she did so, the wolf’s eyes off Frieda,
on Hilda, that awful tongue
slithered out from between
those terrible teeth,
and slowly ran up Frieda’s
blood-ridden face.
Then a raspy whisper, human-like,
of a woman’s voice, hissed,
“I covet the taste of youthful
blood, tears and fear…”
So human-like, with the eyes,
the claws appearing shaped
like a person’s, and that awful,
raspy voice which was human!
Again, to the revilement of Hilda,
the wolf continued running it’s tongue
over Frieda’s face until the blood
had been licked clean from it.
And into the carriage came
the wolf’s other claw,
which grasped Frieda
by the hair on her scalp.
And suddenly by her hair,
the wolf arched back her head
and released her throat,
dangling her by the hair,
Frieda now gasping for air
that would finally allow her to scream,
the wolf denied it by now
clamping it’s jaws over her throat.
And when Hilda had noticed
it’s jaws clamping further,
and a stream of blood
ran down, beading onto her dress,
she screamed, “monster! Kill her already!”
Then came the final clamping
which ended Frieda’s agony,
and its terrible jaw clenched shut
over her throat, and Frieda fell
as dead weight back onto the
bodies of the other girls.
Her throat completely absent
and dangling out of the wolf’s mouth.
Then a paralysis came, which seemed
to paralyze Hilda’s heart and lungs.
As if both heartbeat and breath gave out…
Hilda awoke to drops of something
again over her face. Coming to,
with blurred vision, and night’s
blinding darkness, Hilda again
prepared herself for death.
But somethin more familiar
was dropping onto her lips.
Something refreshing, not reviling.
It was the taste of fresh rainwater.
Then without trepidation, Hilda
opened her eyes and found
the moon had been shrouded by clouds,
and what was coming down
was in fact rain. She imagined
it as holy water sent down
from the heavens to cleanse her
bloody, broken body. Broken
in the sense that she was still
paralyzed with fear. With a glimmer
of hope beneath the falling raindrops,
she mustered enough strength
to climb up through the window
and out into the puddles in the road.
There was a steady breeze
which began to slant the rainfall
into her face. With a sweep of her hand
over her face, the taste of blood vanished.
Then a cracking of lightning
and intense thunder gave a bright,
pulsation from the heart of the sky.
And down came a torrid of rain.
Hilda thought of the driver,
and where he must be.
She expected to see his corpse
mangled in some manner like Frieda.
But the coachman was no where.
Hilda thought then of the horses.
She made her way slowly around
what was left of the carriage
and what she saw,
made her blood boil
under the chill of the rain,
“God have mercy! Oh, Lord!
they are creatures of yours! Why?”
There, still confined to the broken carriage,
lay the carcasses of the four horses.
Stepping closer and seeing them
intermittently by the flashes of lightning,
with each cracking, followed sudden light,
Hilda could make out the look of terror
on each of their faces, a ghastly sight
as each of their throats had been torn out.
And cut open with many long, deep lacerations, which Hilda could only assume
came from that human-like wolf.
Hilda ran up to the carriage to support herself from collapsing by grasping one of the fractured spokes of the wheel.
There she vomited, and felt light-headed.
The steam of her breathing
in the incoming chill of the storm
gusted from her lips, and raising
her preying hands, she pleaded with God,
“My creator! Frieda’s creator!
Take me instead!” Hilda collapsed,
her knees submerged into a large puddle.
Pressing her hands over her face weeping.
Now drenched, now vulnerable,
Hilda was ready for her creator to answer.
The rain came down like shooting arrows
from the heavens but no voice from God.
Rather, a low, lengthy growl
coming from somewhere in front of her,
close, closer than Hilda could notice.
Straining her eyes into the dark
and the blurring rain pounding them,
to see at any distance was impossible.
Then something within the blur
seemed to take shape, someone
tall and robust, and there
burning through the blackness
were the two intense, red eyes
of the gigantic wolf.
Hilda recited the Lord’s prayer
as she knelt with praying hands.
All the while her eyes remained open
and concentrated on the wolf’s.
Fear had somehow drained from her,
as if the puddle she knelt in was
her drained fears, doubts and sorrows.
“I am the light of piety compared to you,
monster!” Hilda shouted at those red eyes.
Then another flash and followed
by the hard drumbeat of thunder,
the entirety of the creature was revealed
for but a moment. Towering and baring four elongated fangs with two full rows of smaller fangs and the musculature everywhere so profound.
Outstretching its long arms
and the fingers on its hands curled,
then blinding darkness
returned to Hilda’s eyes.
Another flash pulsated,
and the creature was gone.
Then the sound of the growl closer…
this time behind her… and another flash…
Hilda saw, as her eyes turned
to the savage human-like eyes
of the creature towering behind her,
that crimson tongue again appeared
and brushed over its rows of pointed teeth.
Its hands, as massive as they were,
were in such a position ready to grasp
anything and tear through or break bones.
Again blind darkness followed the flash,
but Hilda could see its great red eyes
which she felt were piercing her soul.
The breathing of the creature was strong.
And those evil eyes drew closer,
as it was apparent the monster
was stooping down to her…
Hilda held the silver crucifix
tightly concealed in her fist.
Another flash and the full anatomy
of the creature visible, more terrible
so close to it, its hand outstretched
as it drew towards her throat.
And as the flash died
and its hairy palm drew close enough,
Hilda, by instinct, drew the silver crucifix
and pressed it into that terrible palm.
What followed was the sound of searing
and the creature howled, a great, long
terrible howl as it brought its hand
instantly to its heart. Then another flash
as the creature then again stepped
towards her, this time the flash caught
another wolf, with grey fur and piercing
blue eyes, leap into the red-eyed wolf,
pummeling it into the deep mud.
The blue-eyed wolf turned its eyes to Hilda
shouting in a human voice, “Hilda! Run!”
The voice of the wolf was deep and female,
yet oddly familiar to Hilda.
Without pause, she lifted herself and ran straight into the forest surrounding them.
Through the intense storm,
Hilda could make out a viscous brawl between the two wolves.
With more flashes, as if from God
to light her way to safety,
she ran into trees and thick shrubbery
with thorns which cut her face all over.
Until it became agonizing to gulp the air,
Hilda’s face smacked into the trunk
of a tree and she finally collapsed.
The rain pounding her aching face,
she opened her dry mouth
to let in the rainwater, hoping
it would give her the strength
she needed to press on…
on through that terrible forest.
Then Hilda rested herself
against the trunk of the tree,
its canopy gving her some sort of shelter
from the torrid of rainfall…
Her eyes snapped open
to brilliant moonlight
and ceasing of the rain.
Drenched, cold and shivering,
Hilda knew not where she was
or how to find her way back home.
At first light, she thought,
it would be far safer.
Looking up she noticed
the clouds had cleared
and the brilliance of the full moon
gave a resurgence of hope within…
“Oh, Lord, bathe my path home
with your light!” Hilda cried.
Then in the distance, a single
glow of something was approaching…
and approaching slowly, then it appeared
to swing about, and then beside it,
what appeared to be a lamplit face
emerging out from the milky darkness…
