He extended his hand above the thing. Tom's gaze never stopped looking at the doll, he was mesmerized.
Meryl looked at Oswald with a frozen smile, her breathing kept humming the medley while the rest of her body remained static. Her son could only glare back with two ferocious eyes. 'What is going on, mother? What is happening? I don't understand...'
"Her eyes are so blue! Are you sure you two are siblings?" Tom asked. He was confused because Oswald told him there was no baby. But the thing he had, nearly grabbing his finger, was lively, a little stinky and brimming with life.
"Victor have blue eyes too... When you'll meet him you'll compare." She chuckled.
All of Oswald's instincts were screaming. 'It's all a trap!' But he refused to move from his chair. He wouldn't check a second time at the straw doll.
The most logic thought that he ended up with were. 'Tom is pretending too. He's sure playing his part wholeheartedly.'
Actually, there was only one truth. Meryl, mother of Oswald, died during last full moon. Stan, a creature that bedevilled the family made something out of her soul. He worked hard on the reconstruction of her body.
While her son was outside, rampaging, Stan made a new meat puppet that would wander the world.
She passively did the impossible, she inhaled people's energy. It was easier for anyone close to her to be relaxed, if not a little tired. Meryl always felt better when she was in the presence of people. Her son provided her much energy, though he had plenty in stock the month before she passed away.
Meryl was a succubus believing she could make people agree with anything she wanted. Indeed, the object Tom was reaching for was lifeless, but what he saw was completely different.
Red cheeks, dizzy blue eyes, hair so thin it would barely cover its head, the baby charmed him instantly. A part of him wanted to agree on Oswald's misinterpretation of its birth, it was probably due to the lack of attention he now had, jealousy.
"Why did Reggy visit you?" Oswald asked without shame. He could clearly see how sweaty it had been hours ago on the large sofa he used as a bed.
"A hot cup of tea, he wanted advices from you actually, too bad you spent your day with Tom." Meryl replied.
The atmosphere in the room was tense between mother and son, yet the guest was having one of his nicest dinner in years. The plates were still warm, the texture and taste competed with what his personal cook could provide.
The woman sitting next to him used long lasting syllables, making the boy stare at her for longer while she spoke. The long silky hair that touched her shoulders was well brushed, and her smile didn't have any black spot nor hole, what a scenery.
Oswald had to escort Tom back to the village, it was hard for him lowering his gaze from the soon-to-be-full moon.
"Do you like the moon? How pretty is it to you?" He asked.
Tom had difficulties answering, his mind was numbed by his full stomach and the tiring encounter with Meryl. "It's white, and round. Nothing I can't see every day." It was a mysterious object like the sun, he knew not much about it except for children tales.
Because he had difficulties to find the path both had to use, he decided to hold Oswald's sleeve all the way down to the village.
"I bet we're going to step in a trap and die." He said. The lack of sunlight and his useless sight stressed him, he never liked the dark.
Two kilometers in, the sleeve he was holding stopped balancing.
Oswald felt his hair standing up to his neck. 'We're done for.' He thought. His first reflex was to move Tom behind him, he wanted to be the shield.
The pack of wolves passed nearby. First heading straight toward them, until their eyes met.
"Heh?" muttered Tom, looking under Oswald's shoulder.
The cloud of condensed water that exited Oswald's lungs along with the racking air in his throat made the air around them tremble. It was their first time seeing the pack, what shocked Tom was the similarities in eyes, the sole thing he managed to distinct in the dark.
Round, yellow, terrifying.
Feeling Tom was about to run away, Oswald's grip tightened, making the boy's legs ceasing to shake. The ill urge he had to get as far as possible was repressed by the pain he had in his right arm when it broke. The boy fainted from it, but remained hanging mid-hair because of Oswald's grip that had serious control problems.
'What can I do?' He though, ignoring the wails.
His heart's beating was strong, strong enough to push his carotid to its limits.
The inside of his mouth turned black, except for his teeth, making them contrast much more to the moon's glow. In the distance, the wolves put some distance between them in order to circle their prey.
Oswald's shirt impeded on his breath, his build had enlarged from a few centimeters, because he was terrified, he did not notice it.
"Go away!" He roared.
The animals felt the ominous glare weighting down the atmosphere. Oswald was cornered, threatened from every place he looked at. Yet he couldn't help but remain stoic, he wished to protect his only friend.
He barely stepped back to not fall on Tom. The predators walked slowly, seemingly waiting for him to move. The atmosphere felt so dense it became nearly suffocating.
The hair on his head stood, making his head look bigger.
With a huge inhalation, his shirt tore apart and his lungs expended. A new howl pierced through the sky. The ridiculous amount of noise it generated repelled the pack of wolves, it damaged both their ears and pride.
It wasn't enough to wake up Tom, but rather plenty to make anything flee from the zone. He was too close from the village for them to not hear, and it was way too early for them to be asleep.
After this night, everyone knew a terrifying beast haunted the valley.