Breaking Ground 109 Arts - The Shadows of Castille de MagnusShort story by Josecarlos Fumero
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains mild language and descriptions of violence.
I woke up in my master’s castle, drowsy and sleepy. So I walked through the dining room to the kitchen for a glass of water for my dry throat. But when I walked back to my room, there was a loud crash. I ran to check what crashed through the stained-glass window. It was like a wolf, but bigger. The arms were thin but strong, legs as large as a spear, and its face was covered in a blood-like drool. The thing saw me, and I ran as fast as I could to my room, while the shag furred beast was running behind me.
As soon as the door closed on it, the beast let out a booming howl as loud as a cannon shot in war. My heart slowed down. I was relieved for sure. Later, I walked throughout my room and noticed a letter on the table, picked it up and started to read it.
“Dear Jonathan, I know you will be asleep when I finish my letter, but I need you to get out as soon as you can because they are coming. I already sent my men and servants to a safe location here in Greece. There is a secret passageway in the castle. Use it as you wish and may the gods help you. Sincerely, Lord Magnus.”
“What the hell?” I asked myself.
As soon as I finished the letter, I heard another howl, another, and another out the window. I saw five or maybe more of those wolf-like freaks. They were entering the castle. I thought to myself, maybe they're entering here for a feeding ground or a place to rest. I waited for those things to enter to attempt my escape. Five minutes later, they were in. The beasts were feasting on the leftovers of the dining room while I escaped the castle underground. I supposed this was the passage my lord was speaking about. “This is it, my salvation,” I happily smiled to myself.
I climbed out of the cave and ran towards the village, but when I ran, I felt something bite at my leg. And there one of those things was, biting at my leg with powerful jaws and strong fangs, penetrating my fragile skin.
I screamed out loud as its teeth began to tear my leg apart. I tried to kick it in the face as hard as I could, but it didn’t work. I noticed a small knife on the ground. I grabbed it and jammed it into the creature’s left eye. It howled in pain as it let go of my bloody leg. It removed the sanguine knife from its eye and ran away. I sighed in relief. I limped rapidly while I gritted my teeth in pain, as the others were starting to smell the blood on my leg. I hid myself in a dark forest, hiding my pain from the “wolves” that were hunting me down. The beasts were smelling the air, their breaths visible in the cold air. In disappointment, the pack walked away.
In relief, I slowly crawled towards an opening in the woods and made my way out. A group of men were in a carriage traveling the mountainside. I jumped into view, and they stopped to check on me. “What were you doing, little man?” said the captain of the group. “Are you ok?” said the other.
I explained to them as I went into the carriage everything that had happened. “Wow, so you were running away from hungry lycans. What a brave little soul,” cheerly said the medic, as he added ointments and medications to my injured leg. “Yeah,” I shyly expressed myself. “Thank the lord you weren't on Zeus’ hitlist!” the guard laughed. The carriage started up as the horses began to walk towards their destination.
A few months later, we were arriving to Athens. I looked happily towards the bustling town, filled with people doing their everyday activities. But when I looked at them, I felt my hunger growing on the inside, and my eyes slowly turning yellow.
“Hey, you ok?” asked one of the men. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said back to him. “Oh, good, you need to rest, but we’ll book you a visit to a nearby house, ok?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said. The people from the carriage moved towards the town.
Still, I felt my fingers slowly turning into claws, and my hunger growing.
Author’s bio: My name is Josecarlos Fumero. I am 19 years old. I have autism and was diagnosed at 5 years. I finished high school, and then I moved to Nashville from Puerto Rico last year with my mom and my grandma. They are my support. This is the first short story I wrote when I took a workshop with Mrs. Blair. I never thought I could have the talent to do this. Then I posted it on the Reddit app and received a lot of good comments and I felt so happy. I wrote three more stories until the workshop ended. It was the best workshop ever.