Page 5 of Dark Embrace

He was sick in body, in mind, in spirit. Sick at heart. He had done this vile deed; he had brought this disease to them. He knew what it was. Plague. The Black Death. He knew it was the man from the English ship, the one with the cough who had visited this deathuponhim.

And he upon them, his precious family, all those heloved.

He had killedthemall.

He lay shaking in his childhood home, surrounded by their bodies and he was too sick and weak to even tend to their corpses. He closed his eyes, despair and horror at what he had done moving sluggishly like an ichor in hisveins.

The door burst open, letting in a blast of frigid air. A man filled the doorway, and beyond him, Kjell saw the stars of the night sky. He tried to rise, to warn him away from this place of death, but he was weak, so weak. And then he saw the man’s face, his lips drawn back to bare his teeth, his eyescrazed.

“Is not one alive?” the man cried. He sounded desperate,agonized.

Kjell’s mother moaned then, a sound that was little more than abreath.

The stranger lurched forward and fell upon her, tearing at her throat with his teeth. Kjell tried to rise only to find himself writhing on the floor as the pains in his gut sawed at him. Horrific sounds filled his ears, gurgling, gasping—these from his mother. And the sounds of the stranger feeding, greedyandvile.

It was no man that had come here this night, but amonster.

Or was there no man at all, only a thing conjured by Kjell’s fevered nightmares? Was he in truth alone here with only the dead for company? He could not separate truth fromfalsity.

Blackness shaded the edges of his vision, then the whole of it. His lids were weighted and he could not fight thedarkness.

When he opened his eyes, the monster had become a manoncemore.

He sat by Kjell’s side and stared at him with sunken eyes, sad and full ofregret.

“You are dying,” thestrangersaid.

He didn’t wanttodie.

“Are you certain?” the man asked, and only then did Kjell realize he had spoken the words aloud. “There are worse things thandeath.”

Kjell’s eyes closed, but he forced them open once more. And he saw his mother’s body. She was dead, her throat opened, but very little blood to mark thewound.

“You see?” the stranger said. “Things worse than death. I did not wish to do that. But I could not help myself.” He buried his face in his hands. “The farms in this land are days’ journey from each other. I stopped at three before I stumbled on this one.” He lifted his head and looked at Kjell once more. “They were dead. All of them. At every farm I passed, they were dead. The plague. And with each farm, my hunger grew until it became a living thing unto itself.” He paused. “I needed one alive. Thehunger…”

“What are you?” Kjellasked.

“I am a creature of evil.” There were loathing and despair inhistone.

“I will kill you for what you have done here.” A fruitless vow. Kjell could barely summon the strength to speak, his words slow andslurred.

“Would that you could,” the stranger said with a bitter laugh. “But you cannot.” He looked away, then back toward Kjell. “You are so quick to pass judgment against me. I wonder what you would do in my place. You say you do not want to die. Well, I will give you that in payment for what I stole. A life for a life.” His tone was dark and ugly and made the hairs at Kjell’s nape rise. “You will see,” the man said. “Youwillsee.”

He caught Kjell’s hand in an iron grip, and though he struggled, he was too weak and the stranger too strong. The man lowered his head and a sharp pain sank deep into Kjell’swrist.

Bile crawled up the back of Kjell’s throat. He struggled and tried to jerk away, the sensation of teeth gnawing at him and the sucking pull of the man’s mouth made his stomach churn and his thoughts howl. He grew weaker and weaker, dark spots dancing before his eyes, and finally, hedriftedaway.

Drink.

Kjell’s mouth tasted like copper and ash. Likeblood.

Swallow.Anorder.

Too weak to move, to protest, he swallowed. Again andagain.

He knew not how long he lay there, insensate. When he opened his eyes, the man stood in the open doorway, the first rays of the sun touching the horizon, turning it from blacktogray.

“Watch it rise,” the stranger said. “Watch as though it is your last sunrise.” He made a choked sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. “Becauseitis.”