Dark Unwish Ch. 1: Cotton Candy Circles

Chapter One: Cotton Candy Circles

“The world's a roller coaster

And I am not strapped in

Maybe I should hold with care

But my hands are busy in the air saying:

I wish you were here

I wish you were”

-Wish You Were Here by Incubus

         Pain ripped across his torso as ribs broke apart and then melded together into a new form. His skeleton contorted, breaking and snapping, as it moved to make itself into what was required of it. His flesh stretched and broke to cover this new body and it groaned under the weight of the hairs that burst forth from every orifice available. The jaw extended outwards as the teeth elongated and sharpened to fine points while his ears moved up and up to the top of his head. As the last pulses of pain beat out of his body, Jared raised his great maw and howled, the metallic sound floating softly through the air. His tail lashed back and forth, whipping the dead leaves into a frenzy, his nose gulped the air, tasting its scents, and his mouth curved up to smile his wolfy smile, the hunt had begun.

         “Jared honey, you can’t go to the fair in your pajamas.” Betty’s screeching voice rang up the stairwell into his room followed shortly by the pounding of her footsteps as she made her way to him.

         Jared darted from the false safety of his bed and crashed against the bedroom door. He gripped the handle and tried to get his shaky fingers to settle and to lock it. When the lock finally turned into its place, he slunk down onto the floor, and let out a much needed sigh of relief.

         Ch-chunk, ch-chunk! The door handle lifted and fell as Betty tried to force her way in. Jared stared up at the brass key to his privacy, hoping that it would stay in place, just this once. Ch-chunk, ch-creak! The key fell out of its bed and dropped down onto his face as Betty swung the door open with the full force of her might. He groaned as it squeezed him between it and the wall.

         “Jared. Jared? Jared!” Betty called scanning his room, “Young man, you better not be hiding from me, I will find you!”

         Jared moaned in response and when she remained where she was, her facing getting redder and redder as her temper began to boil, he took a deep breath to answer.

         “Here I am,” His voice cracked and he pushed at the door trying to free himself from its clutches, “please do not be angry with me.”

         Betty stepped away from the doorway and pulled it out of the young man. She glared down at his half naked form, disapproving of his red polka dot boxers.

         “Didn’t I tell you to throw those trashy things out!” she snarled jabbing him with one slipper clad foot.

         “Y-yes, but I didn’t want to insult Auntie Matilda,” Jared cringed into the wall trying to gain as much distance from his step mother as possible. He could smell her 1950’s perfume as it leaked off of her body and wormed its way to him.

         “Let me tell you a thing or two about Auntie Matilda,” Betty said crossing her arms, “that woman, is the silliest, most addlebrained, devil child that I have ever know. She leaves the family, returns to the family, and leaves again. She’s an artist, then an actress, a polygamist, and then the worst of all, she runs off again to be a stockbroker! That woman ain’t worth any of the work your gran-pappy put into her.”

         “But she’s the one who is supporting all of us from all those books she wrote.”

         “Oh, yes, now she’s believin’ that she’s some novel writer. Ha! Novel writin’ is only for people who are weak-minded, illiterate Jews and Japs. She can’t even be thought of as an American anymo’.” Betty said snorting with disgust. Suddenly remembering her original purpose, she stalked over to Jared’s dresser and rustled through it until she found a suitable prize. She threw a pair of tan slacks, a nice white polo and some white briefs onto his bed. “There you go, some real manly wear. Make sure you hurry and get dressed so you don’t miss your ride to that theme park of yours.”

         “It’s just a fair.” Jared said struggling to stand up and when she finally left his room after she had realized he was not going to strip out of his underwear in front of her, he made his way over to the bedside. He honestly loved his Auntie Matilda, but any mention of her, and Betty would explode into a tirade complaining about anything and everything that she had ever done or might do. To him, Matilda was an insightful lady full of imagination and creativity that was rarely ever found in this modern age of technology and science. She showed him untouched worlds of magic, worlds that still held mystery and wonder, worlds that were impossible to explain. He would leave her old Victorian house with his head stuffed with tales of faeries and trolls sticking around long enough to make an impression before the real world sucked them all away.

         Back inside reality, Jared trudged down the wooden steps, worrying that his foot would be the final one to push the rotting mass past the breaking point and that he would fall through into the basement below. The kitchen was filled with the sweet smells of sausage, eggs, and pancakes. His mind was wiped of any annoyance he had with Betty as she placed a heaping plate of the delicious breakfast entrees in front of him.

         “A growing boy like you must have a good breakfast to survive a long day of festivities.” Betty thumped a glass of milk down by the plate before she walked back to the stove to continue preparing the rest of the household’s morning meal.

         Jared devoured the food, mixing them all together into a soupy mass of syrupy goodness that he swallowed with naught but the help of a spoon. In between gulps, he drained his milk. When at last the pate was licked clean, he glowered down at its emptiness although his stomach was delightfully full, he still felt like he needed more. He thought long and hard on how to solve the problem, but before he could ask for another plateful, the sound of bells and honks blasted through the kitchen window. He groaned and slowly got up from the chair and wondered how it had not broken under the great mass that now made up his body.

         Eric sat impatiently in the seat of his reddish, used, beater car. He thrust his hand against the middle of the wheel again, letting loose the vehicle’s plethora of bells, whistles, and horns. The little old gal who had owned this car before him, had had an obsession with random noises and unique car horns. The price was too small for him to complain about such a small nuisance and he had grown to like it as it annoyed others more than him.

         “Hey blondie, you sure were taking your sweet time getting out here.” Eric called out as Jared walked away from the house.  He twirled the volume dial up and let the radio choose their theme song for the day.

         “Betty was being a real pain this morning,” Jared shrugged and slid his hand through the before mentioned, cursed, blonde hair of his, “not only did she lecture me on the woes of a certain relative, but she also thought it best to pick out what clothes were the best for me to wear to such a fanciful and high quality affair as the fair.”

         “Are you actually wearing the outfit?” Eric asked grinning as Jared climbed into the seat beside him and shut the car door.

         “Well-ll…”

         “Are you turning into a step-momma’s boy on me?” Eric pulled out of the driveway and away from the house.

         “Never, I have just learned that with her, it is easier to relent on the small things so that I may win the big ones,” Jared leaned back into the seat and thought about putting his seatbelt on, “and she makes one mean breakfast.”

         “Her pancakes are heavenly,” Eric relented and grinned as the radio switched onto Skillet’s “Monster” song, “This song is perfect! It should be our theme for today.”

         “You’re sick, but alright, I think it can work.” Jared laughed and turned the volume even louder to let the music blast away the rest of the ride.

♥♥♥

         Abigail walked through the burning gates of the celebration. It was a marvel that they were never consumed, but remained steadily aflame lending their light to the night’s collage of bright colors. She grinned at the spectacle around her, unsure of what to do first.  The smell of fresh, sugary substances reached out to her from a rather pink blob located by one of the metal contraptions that held screaming children. It convinced her mind on the best course to take and she followed its delicious trail. When she reached the window, she found herself a bit dazed and confused. The blob turned out to be a rolling building that held up pictures of many different foods.

         “What would you like miss?” a man inside the building asked leaning out through the window.

         “That one!” Abigail pointed to the pink, fluffy picture its sparkles blinding her and making her mouth water with just the idea of it.

         “Alrighty,” the man pulled back inside, he grabbed a paper cone, pushed it into a bubble like machine, and when he brought it to her it was covered in the cloudy, pink stuff, “that will be $3.50.”

         Abigail grabbed the treat and tentatively licked at it and it dissolved with a flavorful death. She blinked in surprise and poked it with her hand, nothing happened. She licked it again and it dissolved again. What magic was the cause of this? She would have to study it later; for now, she would just enjoy the sensation of it filling her mouth.

         The man studied the area where once a pretty, young girl had stood reaching for the cotton candy. The cotton candy was gone along with the girl. It was as if there had never been anyone there. There had been a person there, he was quite sure of that. But what if there wasn’t? He sat down hard upon his rickety stool. Had he just imagined the whole thing? It was starting to get late; maybe the cooking fumes were starting to get to him.

         Abigail snaked her way through the crowds of fair goers. The ground was wondrously clean and clear of most garbage and debris. It had been a long time since she had seen so many people in one place and she was reveling in the sights, smells, and feeling of being a part of the living mass as it moved around the machinery and stalls. She let it take her to wherever it decided to move her and soon she found herself face to face with a machine of a staggering height and size. Its large wheel moved around and around in place, lifting red steel cages up, over, and back down. She knew she wouldn’t be harmed by the clockwork contraption, but each screech and groan of its gears sent a shiver of fear rushing down her spine. Fine then, she would accept its challenge.

         Abigail stepped onto the metal ramp and made her way up its gently sloping incline until she found herself approaching one of the metal cages that slowed to a stop. A couple stepped out the doorway of it, smiling happily their arms entwined and their faces full of joy and love. They must have been glad to have survived the experience. Abigail walked into the cage and cringed when the door slammed shut locking her away. With a sharp jerk, the wheel turned lifting her up and up towards the great black sky and stars. She pressed her back against the side of the prison, but that only made it sway dangerously back in that direction. Deciding it was safer to remain in the middle, she moved forward and gazed out the window.

         The world was both bigger and smaller. She felt her heart slow down to a safer pace as she studied the view. Everyone looked like ants compared to her, up here in the clouds. It made her feel powerful, like a god. She could just reach a hand out and start squishing the ants at will. She could pick up the buildings and rearrange the trees. The thought scared her; no one should have the power to do that, least of all her, especially not her.

         The wheel creaked to a stop, leaving Abigail at the very top, stuck in a steel cage, swaying dangerously. She stole a glance over the edge, leaning out the window as far as she dared. She saw no reason for them to stop. Why did they stop? Why DID they STOP?!? The door started to bend out under her and she jumped back causing the cage to sway even more.

         “This seems to be a rather horrid situation to be in.” a young man was draped across the seat opposite to her, he smiled.

         “Fenrae!” Abigail exclaimed staring up at him from her position on the floor.

         “Hello darling, it has been awhile, centuries actually and you haven’t aged a day,” he bent forward and cupped her face in one elegant hand moving her head back and forth to examine her, “who would have thought that this would happen!”

         Abigail said nothing and instead just pulled away from him to sit on the other seat. She saw little differences in his appearance. There were few new lines on his face from the stresses of handling situations that were not meant to be safely dealt with and there was a new darkness that hid behind his bright blue eyes, but other than that and the modern wardrobe, nothing about him had seemed to change.

         “Refusing to speak to me,” Fenrae laughed his lightheartedness still evident, “I thought I deserved better than the silent treatment, or do I?”

         “You don’t.” Abigail stood up and walked to the door. She turned around to fully appreciate the impact of what she was going to do next. She smiled, blew him a kiss, and threw the door open behind her. As she fell, she laughed almost hysterically; he had run to the edge of the door and was now gaping down at her. He had actually tried to catch her hand when she had stepped over the edge. She turned about to face the ground that was now approaching her rather quickly. She had forgotten what it was like to truly live.

♥♥♥

         Jared blinked and rubbed at his eyes. Had he really just watched someone jump off of the Ferris Wheel? It must have been his imagination, if someone had jumped, there would have been more of a commotion instead of complete ignorance. Still, he had seen the door open and a body soar out. He looked over at Eric who was attempting to woo some ladies.

         “Did you see that?” he asked pulling on Eric’s jacket’s sleeve.

         “See what?” Eric dragged his attention away from the pretty brunette.

         “Someone fell from the top of the Ferris Wheel!”

         “Sure they did,” Eric rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around the brunette and another around a blond, “how about you meet Sarah and Jessica? Jessica would be a perfect match for you. Blondie and blondie! Like attract like right?”

         “Never mind and doesn’t the saying state that opposites attract?” Jared inched away from Jessica who was now sliding up to him. She did not seem to be the ‘let’s have an intelligent conversation’ type, she had an aura of bimbo and something about it frightened him.

         “Does it matter?” Eric grinned at Jessica, “If you don’t want her, I’ll just keep both of them to myself.”

         “Go ahead, I’ll find something else to do.” Jared moved away from the three and stalked off towards a quieter area. He had already gone on all the rides and visited all the booths. At the end of the day, there wasn’t much for someone to do by themselves. He decided on resting at the park and as soon as he found a comfortable looking tree, he sat down and laid against it. The rough bark felt soft on his hair and the grass was cool. He had come up with an idea to keep himself entertained. For a brief moment he considered that it would be a fun diversion to people watch for the rest of the time that he was stuck there, but then he found himself gazing after another toddler dropping her precious ice cream and another adolescent girl trying to flirt with college boys. People watching no longer seemed as interesting as it had been earlier especially when the more rotund fair goers thought it necessary to show off their flesh with tiny tube tops and miniskirts that were tight in all the wrong places.

          Jared squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to fend off the horrors of the crowd. In the darkness that his eyelids allowed him, he found a secluded peacefulness. Here he could imagine the world away and create a new one in his mind. Would there actually be a new one created? No, but for those simple, long, quiet minutes, he could be at peace. What should his new world look like? He decided on a forest filled with deer, goblins, and trolls. He would be a strong wolf, hunting the evil creatures of the night and protecting his forest from harm. His furry coat would be a brilliant white that warned the shadows away from his territory. Everyone in this world would know of the great white wolf of legend that hunted in the forest during the day and jumped from star to star at night. He would be feared and loved, but no one who dared to challenge him would ever survive.

♥♥♥

         Abigail trudged through the brambles and the long grass of the fair’s makeshift park. It was pitch black out making it difficult to see more than two feet in front of her. Her fall had not been unprecedented as she had always wanted to surprise Fenrae with such an act and this century’s technology had finally made it possible for her to do so. A simple drop, even from that long of a distance, was not going to impede her from her tasks. Granted, her feet were a bit sore and her shins tensed uncomfortably with each step, but overall, she was fine. 

         This Earth was vastly different from the one she had used to know. Science, technology, learning, and logic were spread out among all of the populace. The days of witch burning and vampire hunts were over. Abigail was not sure whether or not the changes were welcome; she had not observed enough to form an opinion and as she still felt dirt and cool, green grass between her toes, she was glad that not too much had changed.

         Fabric rushed up against Abigail’s foot and she let out screech of surprise as she lost her balance and toppled forward onto legs and dirt. Face pressed against the ground, she growled at the person she had tripped over. There was no answer to her challenge. She pushed herself off of the ground and sat up to view the legs’ owner. He was a handsome young man, about seventeen or so, and his white blonde hair shone eerily in the moonlight and the surrounding rides’ lights. She leaned forward sliding her hand through its fine silkiness and its wispy tendrils gently recoiled from her. She wished she could see his eyes, but he was fast asleep and if his contented smile was any indicator, he was very much enjoying the dream. She wanted to know what he was dreaming about, it must have been something wonderful. She pressed her hand on his forehead and entered into his mind.

         Abigail stood in an ancient forest with trees as far as the eye could see and as high as the stars. The quiet music of birds, bugs, and other creatures of the wood filled the air around her. It was cold and her summer tank top and shorts did little to warm her. She was being watched. She didn’t know who was watching her, or what was studying her lanky form, but she did know that they were there. Well, if they were so intent on seeing her, they may as well meet her.

         “Who dares watch me?” she called out, commanding an answer, “If you do not respond, I will use force.”

         There was a rustle behind a nearby bush and she smiled grimly as she moved her focus to it and settled her balance onto the balls of her feet, ready to move. She flexed her hand and twitched as she realized that her sword did not appear. She then remembered that she was not in some wilderness of a forest back at her home, she was in that young man’s dreamscape and so had no way to defend herself except with whatever her hands and feet could do, an option that she had never favored.

         Her confidence in her fighting abilities dissipating, Abigail nervously returned her concentration on the bush. It was moving again, shaking harder and harder until at last a large misshapen troll burst forth from the foliage. It smiled down at her, its toothy grin not one of friendship. It, or him she guessed from the bit of cloth that covered his lower body, looked at her as it would look at a new, shiny plaything. She briefly considered standing up to the creature, but since she was not one to sacrifice life for honor, she swiftly spun around and darted away from the monster. She ran up hills and down through canyons, over boulders and under horribly placed branches, she was unable to ascertain how much time had passed or how much distance she had covered, but as she slowed to a stop, believing that she had left the troll far behind, she noticed that the area was familiar. She slumped against the trunk of one of the trees; she was back where she had started.

         “You no run now.” the troll chuckled, amused by her silly antics, he was pleased with this animated toy. He stomped over to the tree where she rested and grabbed her with one of his great, bulky hands.

         Abigail groaned as he squeezed her too tightly and lifted her up to his eye level where he could have a closer examination of his prize. She had no idea how to escape from the situation; she had taken her best chance and had failed. Now, she was being groped by a disfigured troll who believed her to be a doll. She could spit in his eye, but that would most likely cause more trouble than help. He might drop her as he yelled in pain and held his eye, or he might keep a hold of her and start banging her against a tree trunk in his frustration. It was difficult to guess how an unintelligent creature would react to pain, even if the pain was as minimal as being spat at in the eye.

         A sharp, metallic howl of anger split the air and silenced all of the noise of the forest. The troll shuddered and looked away from the shivering form of Abigail. There was something even more dangerous than he in these woods. He swung his head from side to side searching for a place to hide his toy. Seeing no holes or caves, he placed her on the ground and shoveled leaves on top of her. Once he believed her to be aptly hidden away, he moved to the middle of the small clearing and did his best to look innocent.

         The howl briefly rang out again before a white wolf charged in, his jaw stained red with the fresh blood of a recent kill. He growled at the troll in warning making sure to give the other beast a nice long view of his rows of sharp teeth. The troll backed away, retreating from the threat of battle, but not wanting to leave the area by his toy. The wolf stalked forward, nose on the ground, tracking a new scent, a scent that was unfamiliar and did not belong in his forest.

         Abigail was becoming comfortable in her bed of leaves, but did not want to be caught up again with the troll. Still, being with a troll was much better than being ripped to shreds and eaten by a wolf. The wolf had easily found her trail and was now following it in circles around the clearing. She sighed, she had never left and the whole time that she had been running, the troll had just stood and watched her go laps around him. It was no wonder that he had laughed at her.

         The wolf snarled softly as he came upon the pile of leaves. He dug at them searching for the hidden prize inside their crackly grasp. He yipped happily as he found Abigail and before she could fend him off, he opened his great maw, his head directly in front of her face. She flinched back, trying to escape the inevitability, but he was too fast for her and soon, she found herself slobbered on as he relentlessly licked her face.

         “Hey boy, you’re a good boy,” she laughed pushing at him, “I wish I had a nice juicy steak for you, but it is a little hard to be hospitable when you’re being held hostage.” She glared at the troll who was nervously trying to creep away.

         The wolf intercepted the troll’s movements, his mouth curled back into a snarl. He glared at the troll, unconcerned with the greater size of the other creature. Panicking, the troll grabbed at his club and swung at the wolf’s furry body. The wolf dodged and bit into the troll’s calf. The troll yowled in pain as he attempted to shake the wolf off. The wolf let go, turned his attention on the arm, ducked away from the club, and clamped onto the wrist. The troll swatted at the wolf, trying to squish him, but the wolf used his hold to climb up on the troll’s arm and then jump onto the shoulder and bite the neck. The troll grabbed at the wolf, but the blood loss from his wounds made him slow and weak. He fell down to his knees and then to his face. The wolf continued to rip away at the throat until it was sure that the kill had been finished.

         Abigail rose from the leaves and approached her rescuer. She was impressed by his skill and interested in what other abilities he might contain. She smiled when the wolf looked back at her with his clear, grey eyes. She closed her own and left the dream.

♥♥♥

         Jared woke to the sweet smell of rotting vegetation, half cooked hamburgers, oil, gasoline, rust, and a hint of rosemary spice. He yawned and slowly opened his eyes to the noon day sun. It was a lot hotter than he had remembered and in that, it was a very unusual temperature for that time of the year even though it was already quite warm, the extreme temperatures were not supposed to show up for another month or two. He let his eyelids drift back down before he remembered that it had been nighttime when he had began his nap. He jumped up, no longer groggy, and immediately noticed that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

         Instead of leaping onto his two strong legs, Jared had fallen onto four. He froze, mind blank as he began to panic. He did not have four legs, therefore when he jumped up onto his legs and into a standing position, he should have landed on two feet. He had landed on four and he was quite sure of this. He settled down onto his stomach and with growing horror, watched two white, furry legs slide out in front of him. He had paws, he had claws, and he had four legs. He howled out his frustration and considered digging a hole. He did not know why he wanted to dig a hole, but he did feel a longing to do so. How could he ever explain his situation to Betty? She would most likely run him out of the house with a baseball bat and a frying pan. He couldn’t even talk! Every word he tried to say just came out in howls and growls.

         “Hello puppy,” a slender girl with honey brown hair smiled down at him, “how are you feeling?”

         Jared growled at her, but quickly silenced when she stroked his head and scratched behind his ears. His long, fluffy tail lashed back and forth happily betraying him and it took him a few moments to successfully gather his thoughts back together and analyze his situation. He had fallen asleep, and during his rest, someone or something had somehow managed to transform him into a white wolf. What had he dreamed about? There had been a forest and a wolf. He had been that wolf and there was a troll. The troll had captured a girl and had tried to hide her, but he wasn’t fooled by its antics and had easily found her. He then had slain the troll and the girl had run away. He could see her face, not filled with fear; she had been more studious and had watched his actions as if she were merely researching his abilities. She did not flinch when he tore at the troll’s throat; she just watched with apparent approval and had actually smiled when he looked back at her with his muzzle and body covered in the gore of the troll.

         “What is your name?” the girl asked sweetly her face the same as the girl from his dream. His nose now was able to catch the scent of even the most miniscule of objects, but from her where he should have smelled sweat, blood, and other human scents; he could only smell stone like that of a boulder or a statue.

         Jared snarled at her, his deadly teeth on display, but she only responded by sitting down next to him and catching his jaw in her hands. She had one hand resting by his nose and the other underneath his head on the area between his jaw and throat. She leaned forward and forced his head about so that he was facing her. Her dark purple eyes stared into his gray ones and he felt a menacing presence press against his mind. He tried to shove it off, but it was much too strong for him and easily broke through his defense. His mind emptied out to this intruder and he could only lay there on the grass as memories, once so sweet and innocent, were wiped away. It was not long before it stole his name from him, leaving him feeling empty and vulnerable. When the presence finally finished, it pulled out and slammed his defenses closed, although he could still sense a line leading out of him to the intruder.

         “I think I shall call you Ezekias,” the girl said, “and your friends and close allies will know you by the shorter version, Kias.”

         The newly dubbed Kias, glared at her, but as he was unable to conjure up his name, he could not find any evidence to argue against her decision. He had realized that she and the girl in his dream was the same person. It could have been a coincidence, but it was highly unlikely that they would have matched up as perfectly as they did. They had matching hair, facial shape, eyes, nose, ears, body type, and now he could see that they even wore the same clothes. He had either had some sort of premonition of what was to occur and she was now in danger or she had been in his dream, in his mind, and had turned him into this canine form.

         “Kias, my name is Abigail, and I would very much like it if you would travel with me. I know this is all new to you, but I promise that I shall teach you how to deal with this.” Abigail put out her hand and smiled when Kias sat up and placed his paw in it. She shook his paw and a contract was made.