The next few days were all the same. The daily chores of cooking and cleaning resumed promptly. It took her two days to completely harvest the garden. Yams, turnips, squash, and carrots all had to come up from the soil. With the winter approaching, food would need to be stored away before the first snow. One time when she was young, Celia read that there was a fruit that was green on the outside, with delicious sweet red flesh on the inside. The fruit contained a lot of natural water and was good for hydration. When she tended to the garden, she often thought of this fruit. The idea of having an unappealing shell on the outside, hiding the true sweetness on the inside made for wonderful stories she'd make up in her head. Her imagination was very vivid. She would play alone by for hours just creating adventures in her mind as a child.
Four nights had passed without interruption. She began to feel like her night at the inn was all in her head. The idea that she was hallucinating everything, was much more believable than the actual truth. The encounter kept replaying behind her eyelids, when she went to bed at night. Sleep was becoming harder and harder to come by. Little creaks of the house, shadows in the room, or outside wildlife would cause her to jump up expecting to see the man with the iron collar again. 'Who wears a metal collar anyways, unless he was trying to look creepy?' She wondered in her mind.
On this particular night, the crackling sound of lightening kept Celia awake. Instead of trying to force herself to doze off, she pulled out a random book from under her bed. This one read 'Beowulf.' It was a book she had read many times. The structure was just simply fascinating to her. A poem is what it was called. The flashes that came before the thunder combined with the moonlight was just enough to allow her to indulge in such a late night pleasure. While the story itself was not very easy to follow, there were parts that still stood out. The beasts that the main character had to fight, left vivid images in Celia's brain. Was fighting a beast that easy? Did it only take was a bit of bravery? When others were afraid and and hid behind stone walls, Beowulf's courage allowed him to slay powerful men and even a dragon.
Bit by bit, her eyelids were no longer able to hold their weight. Sitting up with her back against the wall ,she drifted off. She dreamt of the beast from the inn, who was two times smaller than her in her mind. Her hand held a giant sword, which she would use to slay him. Her confidence radiated allowing her to fight without any discouragement. In the outside world, the rain poured harder causing a few cracks to allow water into the house. Water was not the only thing that trickled over the floors. The man with demon horns stood towering over the sleeping beauty. His glowing eyes peered down at her face. Her hair was braided into two sections on both sides of her head. A few curls had escaped to fall down framing her face. His first thoughts were that she must be stupid to fall asleep so vulnerable. Any creepy man could peer through the window, like what he saw and take her. He was not the only one who took girls in the night.
The room was small, it could hardly fit the bed inside of it. There was one window that let light shine in, and gave view of the forest off in the distance. A single nightstand stood its ground next to the bed, covered in candle wax and smelt of oil. His eyes fell onto the book in her lap. 'The thing can read,' he thought. Actually, he had never met a human woman that could read such literature as that one. Even when he was alive, living among the aristocrats, women did not read much. They may have been taught on the subject very lightly, but it did not remain a priority.
Lightning struck the ground nearby, causing a booming peak of thunder to follow suit. This was enough to shake Celia from the dream world. Immediately, her eyes went wide; her heart dancing in her chest. She threw herself forward, putting a hand on her abdomen. A large shadow hung over her. In the back of her head, she already knew who it belonged to. They had not even met eyes yet, but she could tell by clothing it was the horned man. He could sense that she was scared. The sound of her heart thumping, excited him. This is what he wanted.
Celia used the heels of her feet to push herself back against the wall harder. Her legs lifted her up, allowing her stand up on the bed. They were still not the same height. She was only around 156cm tall, while this beast reached almost 195cm. Was this the part where he stole her soul? Would he consume the flesh and blood from here body right in her own bedroom, while her parents slept unknowingly?
There was nothing there to defend herself this time. For a moment she thought maybe if she went under her covers and hid, he would go away. It seemed to work when she was a child. Unfortunately this was no act of a child's extreme imagination. There was really a large man with horns gazing at her with unnatural eyes. His face was wiped of any emotion. Instead he stared back at her the same way she stared at him. It was like two wild animals in stand off waiting for the other to make the first move.
Drip, drop, drip, drop. The sound of raindrops splashed against the wooden floors causing the tension to rise further. Finally, she could not take the anxiety any longer. Celia closed her eyes and breathed calmly. Deep down she hoped that when her eyes opened again, he would be gone. Not to much surprise, he was not. Why was this happening to her? Was she really being punished by god? Her mind asked all kinds of questions about this creature in front of her. The only way she could get answers would be to ask.
"How did you get in my house?"
Immediately, she regretted her words
If he could disappear at a whim, then he could most certainly appear at one too. The man shook his head as if she had not asked the right question. He wondered if he should just take her now; force her into submission and make her promise to devote her life to him. The option was tempting, but he refrained from giving in. He brought a hand up to the end of one of her braids. The feeling of her thick hair between his fingers, struck something inside of him. A distance memory that he could not quite pull forward. A slight awkwardness lingered over them.
Eventually he spoke; loud enough for her to hear, but quiet enough so that his words would not pass through the thin walls. "I gave you time to think about what you would ask of me. In return you are to give me your soul." A familiar grin appeared on his lips.
She had forgot all about that detail. How could she forget? Did she actually have a choice? Celia was sure he would take her soul regardless. There was no other choice but to strike a deal.