Oswald couldn't figure out what the man was talking about.
Stan's cloak was barely wet, there was no snowflake to be seen on him. From the inside, Oswald could see black matter at the bottom of Stan's footprints. More than sixty centimetres of snow were separated by a clean path. The dark dirt surrounding his place he hadn't seen in months appeared clearly from the forest to the porch of his house.
"What... Why...?" Oswald muttered.
"Are you not happy to see me?" The man asked. A sudden gust of wind blew into the house, restyling the teen's hair. While Oswald's breathe appeared in cloudy intervals, there was no trace of Stan's. More questions accumulated in his head as his nose spread the red liquid on his shirt.
'He said something about the time she'll give birth, did he not?'
His mother's scream ringed in his ears. "My mom... is delivering, she's weak and early, she's in danger!" Oswald managed to say, fighting to breathe. He bent forward and held his clothes, just above his heart, he knew what was about to happen inside of him, he gave it his all to remain conscious.
There, Stan's gentle laugh resounded in the old house. "You are my favourite lamb so far. Completely lost and confused. What is it, you need a little something?" He asked, looking at the curled up boy from a low angle. His large smile shown two perfect rows of pristine white teeth.
Oswald tried to take a peek outside for the second time when a second gust of wind, full of snowflakes slammed the door behind the visitor. The fire in the chimney died on the spot while Stan slid his hand into his pocket. What came out of it was a small white object.
"There you go! I've prepared it for you, swallow it." It sounded more like an advice than an order.
"This!" The kid saw a white fang, a big one, the same as the one he saw during his flashback. His expression turned grave as he stared at the uninvited guest, who replied with a hint of mockery.
"What? Don't you know you need at least two teeth to bite properly? You should hurry before your brain turns into soup and leaks from your ears." Lies were always funnier with credulous kids.
'The hole in my memory, is he the source of it? What in the world is happening here? Is he a monster in disguise?' The boy thought, holding against a chair to stand up. He held onto the fang while forcing the blood out of his nose with a strong exhalation.
Another scream shook the walls.
"I'm here Meryl, as promised!" Stan said, energetically climbing the stairs.
'No!' Thought the boy, unable to block the anomaly from going. When he entered the room, he saw the two adults looking into each other's eyes. "Fuck off my house!" Oswald shouted, throwing a punch at the man's face.
A motionless hand caught it mid-air.
"Are you still that self-centred leech? The egoist I met a month ago?" Stan asked without turning his head.
Blood gushed out of the kid's nose, his impeded breathe cut the fight short. He shoved the fang in his mouth, root first and swallowed it whole. 'It healed me the first time, it must do it again. Even if I get ten times as much headaches.'
"Stan?" Meryl panted.
"Hey sweetie! Let me give him something to do first."
Stan cleaned the fog on the window and with a flick of his fingers, clouds vanished to let the moon's halo enter the room. The wonderful, magnificent circle appeared.
"What have you done to him?" Asked Meryl, her eyes veiled with tears. Oswald was stoic. The full moon's charm was immeasurably more wonderful than the previous time, he was attracted by the sight and stood in front of the window silently.
"I granted his wish, to grant yours. Though I'm never sure of the outcome, your son turned out better than usual, what an obedient little fella!"
His hair backwards, Stan put his two index on the crosses of his forehead and with a simple move, he erased the horizontal line.
The two vertical lines moved, there was something under making them distort. Meryl saw two curved golden horns spurting out of his forehead, tearing apart the skin on their path. The blood that flowed out of the wound entered the man's eye, making her notice the two crimson eyeballs that contemplated her.
It was as if her contractions had stopped to let her witness the mightiness of the monster.
Oswald hadn't stopped staring at the celestial body. He wouldn't care about anything else than the graceful moon. He could still hear but he wouldn't listen.
The so-called cultural marks on Stan's arms shivered as he approached Meryl. "Ain't it hypnotic? Let's not be shy!" He said, a hand caressing her tensed belly.
"I did everything you wanted..." Pleaded Meryl. "Don't harm them!"
More blood was added to the room when the baby started to come out. Oswald lifted his head, his sense of smell was a new captivation.
"Oh... I won't, milady. I won't touch them."
Crack. Crack.
A growling echoed in the room as he continued his speech.
"So? Still putting your ambitions before your own? What kind of mother are you? My father was the same as you, except he had an aversion for lust. That's the interesting part about you. I know which category you'll belong to once I'm done with you."
He kissed the labouring mother, shoving his tongue down to the start of her throat.
Meryl had no strength left to push the monster back.
With his left hand, Stan forcefully ended the childbirth and laid the messy remains on her abdomen. When he stopped kissing her, she wailed in pain for her damaged organs. Stan's gaze displayed an ounce of sorrow.
"Every boy that is to come shall be killed. You said it. I kept observing you all along... Right! I had no need to deliver this letter, the war started because of it years ago, I kept it for home-decorating purposes. You both have no idea about the rest of the world, you are lo-ve-ly."
Stan's bloody hand scratched his goatee while the other tapped on a roll of paper in his pocket.
Oswald's body suddenly swelled up. His spine and ribcage expended to emerge from his back, skin grew back on it and in each ripples between the ribs, black hair grew.