The big bad wolf

The voice lingered outside the door.

River stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the narrow strip of darkness beneath it. His heart hammered so violently that he could feel each beat in his throat.

“You… I can smell your fear. How long do you think this little door will keep me from you?”

He swallowed, but his mouth had gone terribly dry.

The voice was deep, rough and unmistakably masculine, yet there was something wrong with it. Its words dragged against one another, as though the creature speaking had never quite learned how to use a human tongue.

River took a careful step backwards.

A low growl vibrated through the wood.

“Don’t move.”

He stopped.

Something scraped against the other side of the door. Slowly, deliberately, it dragged across the surface, producing a dreadful, grating sound. River watched as the shadow beneath the door shifted.

“Please,” he whispered.

A pause followed.

Then came a quiet chuckle.

“Please?”

The creature repeated the word as though it had never heard anything so amusing.

River’s fingers curled into his shirt. “W-who are you?”

The response was immediate. “Why don’t you open this door and find out?”

A heavy impact shook the door.

River stumbled backwards, nearly losing his footing. The iron bolt rattled in its brackets, and a frightened gasp escaped him before he could swallow it.

Another impact followed.

Then another.

The creature was hitting the door.

“Open it!”

River shook his head instinctively, even though the thing couldn’t see him.

“!!”

“Open the fucking door!”

“I-I can’t!”

Silence.

For one brief moment, River wondered whether the creature had gone away. Then a vicious snarl erupted from the other side, followed by a violent crash that made the hinges groan.

“OPEN IT!”

River cried out and scrambled away from the door.

Something struck the wood again. This time, the sound was followed by a long, horrible screech. Claws. Whatever stood outside was dragging its claws down the door, tearing at the wood with enough force to send splinters flying across the floor.

River’s back struck the edge of the bed.

The tray Caius had left for him rattled. A cup toppled over, spilling the untouched tea across the polished floor.

He barely noticed.

“Stop!” he cried, his voice breaking. “Please, stop!”

The creature laughed.

“Little… rabbit.”

Another scratch.

“I wonder how long it would take me to tear through this door. Perhaps a minute. Perhaps less.”

River’s gaze darted around the room.

The windows were too high, and beyond them lay a frozen valley with nothing but snow and jagged rocks. There was no other door, no servants’ passage, no convenient escape.

He was trapped.

“Would you like to know what I’d do once I got inside?”

River pressed both hands over his mouth.

“I would start with your fingers,” the creature continued, its voice almost conversational. “One by one. I wonder if you’d scream before I reached the last.”

A loud thud shook the door.

“Then I’d eat you.”

River’s stomach lurched.

“All of you,” it added with a pleased rumble. “And I’d enjoy every bite.”

His knees weakened. He reached for the table to steady himself, his trembling fingers catching the edge just before he fell.

He wanted Caius.

He wanted the strange, red-haired man who had smiled at him at the gates and promised to be his escort. He wanted someone, anyone, to come and make this nightmare stop.

But Caius had warned him not to open the door.

Not for anyone.

Not even for him.

River’s eyes moved towards the bolt. It was still firmly in place, though the door shuddered beneath another assault.

Then he noticed something.

A faint light flickered near the entrance.

He blinked.

At first, he thought it was a reflection from the fireplace, but the glow came from somewhere much closer to the floor. A small piece of parchment lay beside the doorframe, half-hidden beneath the curtain.

River hadn’t noticed it when Caius brought him inside.

He approached cautiously, keeping his eyes on the door. The parchment trembled against the stone, though there was no breeze in the room.

Strange markings covered its surface.

They weren’t letters he recognised. The symbols curled into one another, forming intricate patterns that seemed to shift whenever he tried to focus on them.

A faint silver light pulsed beneath the ink.

River crouched.

“What is that?”

The creature went quiet.

The sudden silence was almost worse than its threats.

River glanced at the door, then back at the parchment. A strange warmth radiated from it, completely unlike the cold that had seeped through the floor.

He reached towards it.

“Yes.”

The chuckle came from behind the door.

River froze, his fingers hovering above the paper.

For the first time, the creature sounded genuinely displeased.

“Remove it.”

River slowly withdrew his hand.

The parchment brightened.

A series of symbols flared across its surface, illuminating the stone around it. The light spread along the doorframe in thin, silver veins before disappearing beneath the wood.

The creature snarled.

“I said to take it off… it will just make it easier for me to get in.”

River stared at the paper.

“Take it off, little rabbit.”

“TAKE IT OFF!”

The door shook violently.

River flinched, but something had changed. The bolt no longer rattled, and the scratches had stopped. Whatever was outside seemed unable to strike the door with the same force as before.

The parchment glowed brighter.

A deep, furious growl rolled through the corridor.

“Who put that there?”

“Ah… I know, it’s that red bastard.”

Red bastard?

Did he mean Caius?

“Go away!” His voice cracked. “I’m not letting you in.”

There was a heavy silence.

Then came a slow scrape.

For several seconds, nothing else happened. He could hear the faint crackling of the fire and the uneven rhythm of his own breathing.

Then the voice returned, quieter than before.

“Interesting.”

“Very interesting indeed.”

A claw scraped against the wood, this time with deliberate restraint.

“You have no idea what you’ve brought into this keep, do you?”

River swallowed.

“I haven’t brought anything.”

The creature gave a low, humourless chuckle.

“Of course you haven’t.”

River looked towards the door.

“Why are you here?”

The question escaped him before he could reconsider it.

A pause followed.

“Why?”

“Yes.” He wet his lips. “What do you want? And where are the others?”

The creature said nothing.

River waited, his hands clasped tightly against his stomach. He knew he should remain silent. Caius had warned him, and every instinct told him that speaking to whatever lurked outside was a terrible idea.

But the thing had come looking for him.

It had threatened to tear him apart, and yet it hadn’t left.

He needed to understand why.

“What did you do to th—?”

A violent growl interrupted him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”

River’s mouth snapped shut.

The creature breathed heavily on the other side of the door. He could almost imagine it crouched there, its enormous body pressed against the wood, its claws curled into the stone.

“Do you know who I am, little rabbit?”

“T-the mad dog of the North.”

“Mad dog?”

“...”

A throaty laugh rumbled behind the door.

“Do you know what I do to things that belong to me?”

River’s fingers tightened.

“I don’t belong to you,” he whispered.

A low rumble travelled through the corridor, rising until the walls seemed to vibrate with it.

“Who decided that?”

The creature’s voice had changed.

It no longer sounded amused.

Something struck the door.

The parchment flashed.

A furious snarl tore through the keep, followed by the sound of claws scraping violently against the stone.

“You dare?”

River stumbled backwards.

“You dare stand behind that little piece of paper and tell me what you are?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“You smell different.”

The creature’s voice lowered.

Huh?

“Different from all the others.”

Then the creature inhaled deeply, and a strange sound escaped it. Something between a growl and a sigh.

“It’s you… my &$@#!”