Prologue

Overhead stretched the blood red color of the sky. Underneath a bay gelding galloped with a young rider eagerly urging the beast up the pebble pathway to the looming manor of Lancaster.

Joseph dismounted quickly and was met by an older woman named Anna. “Do you have it?” she asked. He pulled out a small parcel from his coat. She snatched it and swerved, rushing back through the front doors with the boy following closely.
“How is he?” he asked.

“No better.”

It wasn’t the news he was hoping to hear. He ran his fingers through his brown hair as they passed other worried looking maids and climbed the oak stair. Normally the manor was alight with warmth in its brick walls and rich rugs and bright chandeliers, a splendid place to behold, but that evening only dread and fear flooded the halls.

It was hidden well though. Only when Joseph rounded the east corridor did he hear the hushed murmurs coming from his brother’s room. He entered right behind Anna and saw Adam flat on the bed drenched in sweat, convulsing with painful noises escaping his lips.

Three pairs of eyes looked their way. One belonged to his mother, her face ever aging during this harsh time; another belonged to the doctor; and the last was a set Joseph hadn’t left behind. Uncle Donn. Mother must have called for him since his father was away and couldn’t be here to help.

Anna handed over the parcel to the doctor, and he took it with urgency, opening it. Out he pulled a few glass vials. Joseph recognized the one filled with rye grain, but the others he was unfamiliar with. It held some sort of green plant.

“Will those help?” Joseph asked, his voice sounding small in the room.

His mother looked to him as though it was first she noticed him there. “Joseph! You shouldn’t be in here.”

“I’m old enough.”

“Let him stay,” Donn said. “He brought what was needed. He’s man enough.”

She didn’t appear convinced, but she turned her gaze back to her other son on the bed, clearly more concerned with him. Joseph was grateful.

He watched as the doctor opened the vials and sniffed each one. The man then nodded his approval. “Rye and mistletoe,” he said. “This could cure him, hurt him, or do nothing.”

“Hurt him?” Mother anxiously asked.

“It’s a chance we must take.”

When no one interfered, the doctor mixed the two ingredients and then sprinkled it over Adam’s bare chest. Immediately the boy bucked. His scream echoed through the room in the cry of a child mixed with the ferocity of an animal.

Joseph tensed. Mother stood and leaned over her young son. “Adam! Adam!”

The rye sizzled on Adam’s skin for a brief moment before it dissolved into smoke. Behind were the red markings of a burn.

Quickly the doctor pulled back. “It’s no use,” he said, worry dripping from his voice. “He’s too far gone. There’s nothing we can do about him now.”

Uncle Donn raced from the room, leaving behind his sister weeping over her son. Joseph took a hesitant step closer. Never had he seen his brother in such a state, and the harsh feel of fear and sorrow quivered through him. What would become of him now?

“There’s nothing?” Joseph asked with his eyes on the doctor.

The doctor never removed his gaze from Adam. “Death is the only thing that can free him now,” he said.

At that Donn entered the room with a silver inlaid musket in his hands, and began to load it by tearing off the paper of the cartridge and pouring a pinch of the powder into the priming pan.

Mother caught sight of him, wide-eyed. “Donn, what are you doing?” He ignored her and continued his work in a quick fashion. Within seconds he had the musket prepared. “Donn,” she tried again firmer, “what are you doing?”

“Saving us.” He strode up to the bed and brought the musket to his shoulder.

Joseph had half a mind to tackle him, but Mother was faster, throwing herself over the child and reaching out to the gun with her free hand. “No! He’s my son!”

“He’s a monster, Mary! He will kill us all!”

“No!” Overwhelmed with grief, the only muffled cries Joseph could hear from her were the repeated, “Nooo! Nooo!”

Donn turned to the maid. “Anna.”

He didn’t need to explain. The woman gently reached for Mother’s arm, but she turned on her and pushed her back furiously. “Leave us be!” She pointed a finger at Donn. “You will not touch my son!”

Their argument was interrupted then. Adam jerked violently in the bed, again and again and again, convulsing uncontrollably. A scream escaped his lips and his back arched. They all watched as his skin began to shift and change, growing tufts of hair, and his body stretched. His fingers grew long and his nails sharpened into claws. On his head sprouted thick horns. The beast stood on its hind legs almost six feet tall on the bed, panting through rows of sharp teeth.

The small group stared as though they were frozen in place. “My God…” Donn murmured.

The beast roared, spittle flying in its rage. It whipped out an arm and struck the doctor hard enough to fling his body back into the standing mirror along the wall. Glass shattered and his body slumped on the ground. Anna screamed and ran, and Joseph stiffened, unable to move.

Donn fumbled with the musket again, but the beast crouched and then lunged before he could fire. Both bodies fell back to the floor. Teeth tore at Donn’s throat and blood sprayed. If fear was prominent before it now sucked the air from the room, and Joseph found he could barely breathe. This wasn’t happening!

But it was. Two bright green eyes turned on him. Adam’s eyes, his brother’s eyes, but they were on the face of a monster. It was a living nightmare.

It lumbered towards him and Mother’s cry pierced the room. “Run!”

Joseph didn’t need to. The beast swerved at the sound of the woman’s voice, and its claws sliced through fabric and skin. Diving, Joseph snatched at the musket from his uncle’s lifeless hand, spun, and blindly pulled the trigger. Sparks flew and smoke billowed.

Whether or not he made fatal contact, the beast roared painfully before running across the room and jumping out the window to escape, a trail of droplets in its wake. Silence followed. Joseph stood shaking with the expectation of the monster returning.

When it didn’t and he found his wits, he slowly knelt beside his mother. Horrible gashes were across her chest and abdomen, her dress shredded, and she laid gasping for air that couldn’t find its way into her body.

“Mother,” Joseph whispered, reaching for her. She choked then went still, her long hair and spring dress splayed under her covered in blood, her lifeless eyes seeing nothing. Donn lay mutilated only a few feet away, and the doctor’s body was unmoving in the corner of shimmering glass.

And suddenly Joseph felt alone and enraged. Hot tears filled his eyes, and he whipped around, marching to the window. “Adam!” he screamed into the night. “Can you hear me?” He received no response but continued, “I will find you! I will hunt you until my dying breath and make you pay!” He clenched his jaw, a different sort of pain in his heart. “I swear it…”

Reviews

[Sara Rose]

Thank you for your reviews! I'm really glad you're enjoying it :)

[C. Porter]

I love this I love this I love this!!!!! So dang good so far. Can't wait to keep going.