The Monsters and their Lovers.
were rumors that there was a class of shapeshifters in the nearby forest. In
fact, the forest was named Murder’s Woods for the over abundance of crows. If
you walk through the woods, expect groups of crows. They fly to the branches,
following you every step, their eyes never leaving you. There were whispers
that the crows were the shapeshifters; waiting for the perfect way to attack.
You walked through the forest, a basket in your hand, the crows sitting atop
the branches; they use their voices to call to each other; a smile graces your
lips as you continue the path. A hand harshly pulls you from the shoulder, the
basket in your hand drops, you gasp when a knife slides against your cheek.
The man shouts, “You’re one of them shapeshifters.”
trickles down your cheek, your hand cups the dripping blood. The crows shriek,
they drop their wings, falling from the branches to circle the man in a swarm.
Your eyes widen, behind you a crow drops; leaves circling, feathers withering
as fur grows. A wolf emerges, a growl on its lips as it brushes against your
thigh. The crows follow suit, their raspy shrieks replaced with snapping
growls. Your eyes shut, the man’s screeches dissipate as a wolf drags him
further into the forest; the other wolves follow suit. One wolf lingers, it
circles you; your knees give out. The wolf lets out a whine, when you open your
eyes, the wolf is sitting in front of you. Your hands brush against it’s fur.
tongue drags against your cut cheek, the whine disappearing; the fur sheds and
a male sits across from you, “Are you alright?”
perfect now that you’re here.” You look to the basket, pulling out a small
blanket to hand to the man, “But please, cover up.”
wolves howl into the night, he catches the faint smell of blood; a hand resting
on your back as he leads you home.
three in the morning. The witching hour. It was a rule to never stay out during
the witching hour. That’s when the creatures come out. They feed on the weak,
the innocent, anyone walking the streets. The braver ones broke into homes,
took what they called theirs, destroying lives for entertainment. You heard a
scream from down the block, your footsteps quicken; laughter follows behind
you. You can’t help but to continuously look over your shoulder. Despite it
being summer, the witching hour practically made snow fall.
where do you think you’re going.” A cackle comes from the alleyway you’ve just
passed. When you look over your shoulder, you see a group of men coming from
the dark shadows, eyes sharpening on your figure, their tongues slither as they
begin to move towards you, “Come back and play with us.”
to bolt, they cackle loudly as they begin to chase. Your heart pounding, eyes
brimming with tears, you turn the corner, slamming into the chest of a man.
Fear radiates from your body as you look up, “Tetsu!” You bawl, shaking to your
ours.” The group of men have caught up.
his eyes onto the men, a hiss on his lips, “I don’t think so.” Kuroo pulls you
to your feet, he drags his fingers to the neck of your shirt, yanking the cloth
to expose your shoulder. The outlining of a cat sits nestled on your
collarbone, “She’s been marked.”
turn away. You look at Kuroo, you smack him in the chest and he lowly laughs, “You’re
the worst.” You spit out, walking pass him with your arms crossed.
chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist, “Come on, isn’t this fun?”
can feel the way others stare at you, hunger in their eyes when they take in
your scent, “I want to go home.” It was unbearable, the way he loved to dangle
you in front of others, “I don’t feel safe.”
tightens his hold, fingers gripping the neck of your shirt, his tongue drags
against his mark, “No one can touch you.” He whispers in your ear, “They’ll
burn in hell before they can.”
sat neatly a top a hill, large and vast it stretched just as large as the city
below it. Commoners gazed up at the monarchy’s household with envy. The villagers
were divided on their ruler, some loyal to their king, others whispered rumors
about the evil hiding behind the innocent face of the dictator. It was no doubt
that he was obsessed with you; his queen, his one true love, ruler of his
heart. He’d cross oceans for you; he started a war for your hand in marriage. When
he met you, an engagement ring rested on your finger, one too unfitting for
your beauty. His soldiers charged into battle and in less than a year; he
placed a wedding ring far grander on your delicate finger.
were getting restless, they were asking for more resources, more money, more
food, more support. The king was utterly distracted, fingers dancing on your
hip, kisses on your cheek, you tried to pull away when an interviewer
denying me?” He whispers in your ear as the camera is being set up.
to him, “Of course not, my king. I just thought it would be wiser to have some
civility when the camera rolls.”
grins, his finger touching your nose briefly, “You’re so smart.”
pulls away to straighten himself, he doesn’t miss the way your body relaxes
when he removes his hand. He watches as your eyes suddenly light up at the
entrance of a mere guard. He catches the fleeting glances between you and the
guard, a red dust on your cheeks. Oikawa is irritated.
through the castle, a skip in your step as you reach the tower. When you open
the doors, a smile graces your lips, “My love.” Silence strikes you when Oikawa
is seated on a chair, “My king.” Your voice falls, in his hand rests a bloodied
sword, the family symbol of the guard engraved onto the steel.
queen.” The sword falls onto the ground, he’s brushing his bloodstained hands
into your hair. The blood of your lover sticks to your cheeks as he cleans your
tears, “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
crazy, it was preposterous; yet the villagers thought that if it worked, then
it must be the only way. It was a tale as old as time, it was something
outsiders could never understand. Outsiders gossiped about the unusualness of
the village, when drought reached nearby cities and towns, this particular
village only experienced prosperity. When war broke out, soldiers were lost
amongst fog trying to find the last standing town; wounded warriors brought
stories of the fog, shouting nonsense of foxes tearing men apart.
her?” Someone whispers with astonishment, “The bride of the fox spirit.”
when someone addresses your title, curious to who whispered. The twins behind
you halt in their steps, their eyes peering at the outsider in the village;
their scent was dreadful.
me!” They approach, the boys hold back the person, “Please help me! My village
doesn’t talk to outsiders.” The twins speak together.
gotten used to the sight, the begs and pleads of outsiders at your feet; you
had to turn a cold shoulder. The village’s prize possession, that’s what you
were. Given to the fox spirit as its bride, you would be written down as the twentieth
home.” You state upon reaching the shrine, “My husband.”
A gust of
wind brushes against your skin, an air of red encircles your figure, arms wrap
themselves around your waist. A chin rested on your shoulder, your body
stiffens, he presses a kiss to your neck.
You pull away, turning to him, in your hand resting some fried tofu, “I would
have brought more but Osamu and Atsumu ate a lot of them.” You feed him; he can
smell it; the slight fear running through your veins.
your wrist, your eyes stared into his. Kita lowers himself to you, nosing
brushing against your; your lips beginning to quiver, “I’m sorry.” He whispers on
your lips, “I’m sorry they took your life to give to me.” Tears fall from your eyes;
you cling to him out of desperation.
said that when someone is lost; an owl will lead the way. If you choose to
follow the owl, be mindful that where they lead you may not be home. Word began
to spread, disappearances of people between nearby towns. The sound of owls
calling out to each other in the night, it signaled a disappearance. People
began to leave for their homes when the sun started to set, doors locked, windows
shut, streets empty. It was best to try and sleep through the night, it was best
to try and pretend like the hooting of owls wasn’t right outside the windows.
as though you had walked passed the same path ten minutes ago. Your nerves were
at its peak, the sun passed the horizon; the moon accompanied you. A lump in
your throat as you watched an owl fly above, you watched the direction it flew;
your foot moved in temptation to follow.
in your spot, a small shriek from your lips. You whip your head around, looking
at the male. It was a person; someone you hadn’t seen before. For a second you
think his eyes glowed with a yellow tint, but his friendly smile puts you at
ease, “Yeah. I’m just trying to find my way back to the main city.”
“I can help
you.” He reaches a hand out, “I’m Bokuto Koutarou.”
so much, I’m Y/n.” He extends a hand in the direction of the path he’s leading
you on, “Are you from here? I don’t think I’ve seen you in town before.”
“I’m actually new, I’m trying to find a place to settle.”
grinning, “Oh, this is a great place. Despite the owls lately.” Your eyes
follow the way another owl flies overhead, “Something about them, seems creepy.
I’m glad I’m not alone right now, they say that if you see an owl at night when
you’re alone; you’ll disappear.”
eyes widen, “Are you trying to scare me?”
scared?” You whisper to him, you halt in your step, peering up at him with a
playful grin. You lean into him, on your toes, your voice near his ear, “You
should be.” Your fingers burn an imprint onto the back of his hand.
Bokuto hisses as he pulls away from you. The back of his hand burning as a mark
“Owls are a rare catch. Come now, we must go home.”