I didn't have words to describe the moment words stopped spilling over my lips. It almost felt like that famous time-stopped moment. Not one single time did I dare lift my eyes from the cold wooden deck while I talked. Bared every dark corner of my memories, anger, hurt, and despair. I felt alone and lost, striving for love and recognition when I deep down, always knew I wasn't worth it, not in my father's eyes. I told him about bullying, outright torture, and evil.
The more I spoke, the more memories popped up. Like I opened a jar of darkness, and everything was let loose like death pearls on a row. How little I had felt the first time my father spotted the neighbor kids holding me down, lifting my shirt up. Everyone froze, and I cried for him, pleading for him to help me; instead, he turned his back and walked away. I still felt the pain in my heart the moment he broke the last strig of hope in it.
Warm tears still rolled over my cheeks, but I didn't feel like I was crying; it just happened all on its own. Everything was now out of my control, but to be honest, it was the moment I started talking. Like a puppet, I told him my story, details, and events I thought I had forgotten long ago. I showed him the scars on my soul, the still bleeding wounds that I didn't know existed anymore. All the things nobody but me knew up until now. I didn't want pity, didn't want him to see me as a ruined gods, but what I feared the most was disappointment or disgust.
So, we both started right at each other, with no words, no reaction. Just suffocating air in a heavy moment of nothing. I feel a ton lighter like all of this has been weighing me down all my life, but despite it all, my throat tightened so hard it felt like I was about to choke myself watching him and waiting for a reaction.
He let out a long breath, and his body unfroze, but still, I could not read a reaction on his face. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Was that a little smile? But did it look sad or filled with pity? Or was it a grimace? I'm not even sure I want to know anymore.
My stomach clenched into a little ball as he reached out and grabbed my hand. Everything about this moment, the horrible rejection, made itself clear. Like a bad move, the scene played out: that fake I am sorry sigh and halfhearted smile while gently holding my hand in his. My heart started pounding when his lips started moving. I didn't want to hear his voice, his words, but I couldn't move an inch. I saw his lips moving like it was the only thing in this world to look at, the motion and the time so slow it felt like I was about to go insane. But as his words started making sense, I felt even more baffled.
"Maya, do you know what I am?"
"A wolf..."
"No, not exactly."
I furrowed, then I remembered hearing Tew talk about death gods, and I quickly changed my answer,
"A death god? Death wolf god? Death wolf?"
That quick smile of his made my heart skip a beat and drew my attention back to his lips.
"No, that is Hades. Kind of, at least, and I will remember death wolf! He will hate that! Come here,"
Grabbing my hand, he led the way to the back of the ship, and like a naïve little lam, I let him. I followed everywhere he wanted me to while he kept talking, walking with his back to me.
"He won't do you anything, remember that. And please, don't scream. I grew up among wolves, and even if I was treated kind of like an outsider from the very beginning, at least I was treated as part of the pack. That changed the day I turned 14 and shifted for the first time. Not only was it years before I was supposed to, but I was also something totally different. My life changed that day; my friends and family turned their backs on me. It became an unspoken law that all members of the pack had to do their best to make me miserable as often as they could. I know exactly that pain you talked about the moment your father walked away when you needed him the most; I had the same moment. Maybe not the same torture or chain of events, but the same level of pain, disappointment, and heartache. I think if you could look to this day, it would still be a scar on my heart and soul from that moment."
He let go of my hand and took a couple of steps ahead, away from me. He paused for a second before lifting his head, looking over the ocean as the moon now cast its cold light on the dark, threatening waves. Time had passed so fast that I didn't even remember seeing the sun dive down into the sea on the horizon. Something told me to wait, to let him have his time, and instead let my eyes follow where I thought he could be watching. At the same time, my head started working. Not a wolf? Then what? Are there real monsters here? The way he speaks, it sounds like he is about to introduce me to the boogie monster. The nasty creature from all children's nightmares, and I'm not sure what to feel. Maybe I should run. Would my screaming trigger his beast to attack me?
With the questions, insecurity, and panic smoldered, each breath gave oxygen to it and fed it until it was about to burst into flames throughout my entire body. Just then, he turned around and smiled. A smile that didn't reach his eyes didn't even reach the full form of a smile on his lips.
"Just remember he won't hurt you, and please, do not scream."
That stiff, half attempt at a smile stayed on his face when he started walking backward. Our eyes locked before he threw his head back, and both my hands slapped over my mouth to hold back the scream as his body bent back at a very unnatural angle. Not only that, but it was like he was melting into himself. Within seconds, I had no idea where his hands or feet started; I couldn't even guess where his head was.
Bones started cracking, breaking, and making a strange, deep popping sound while his body continued moving. There were no clear shapes; one second, I swear I could see human parts; the next, it all blended like a misshaped slime ball made of skin and fur. I waited for what seemed like an eternity for the shifting flesh creature to leap forward and land on two paws, but it never happened. Instead, he kept growing taller and wider; the couple of steps I took back were not intended but more like a natural instinct or reaction as I kept watching.
I'm not scared, not really. He promised he would never hurt me, and a part deep down inside of me believed him, and I couldn't even fight that feeling. Despite that, the rush of adrenaline and my heart pumping so hard that each breath I took followed the thud of my heart grew to the point that I felt like I lost control of myself. Like I could no longer claim my own flesh and blood.
Brown, thick fur began to break his skin, spreading like water soaked up on a dry piece of paper when a corner of it touched it. Not before he stretched, I saw what he was, so tall my neck began hurting as I bent it back to look up at him. Or it is still him, I think. Only now, his beautiful, kind eyes were pitch black and round, staring back at me as we assessed one another for a couple of seconds.
For some reason, my first thought was, of course! I should have known!
But again, that does not make sense at all; how could I? His weight shifted from one foot to the other slowly, and a growling sound vibrated all around me, leaving a trail of goosebumps up my arm. Still, I can't look away. He is massive!
Sure, the fur is thick, but even without the fur, he would be huge! Like, to the point I worried the ship would be able to hold him, hold us both.
If he moves too fast, I have no doubt he can make the whole thing tilt!
The huffing sound sounded more like raging wind rounding a corner as he let himself fall forward and landed on his front paws. Shaking, his thick coat moved like fury waves over his body before his black eyes found mine. I should be scared; I should scream, a little voice whispered in my head; my hand moved on its own. Reaching out, letting my fingers glide through his fur, pushing them deep into the soft and warm brown coat covering him from top to toe.
"Bear, you are a bear!"