When Arne barged inside the doctor's office with his heart bobbing inside his throat, he knew two things, the rabbit was perilous, he had made a dangerous mistake, and his mom was right, "the animals, they lied."
The doctor was standing there with wide round grey eyes, hands helplessly on the side, a statue of shock.
The rabbit wasn't there.
Arne looked around the room.
"I am sorry," The doctor said in astonishment, voice etched in bewilderment, "the rabbit- the rabbit just ran, I tried to catch it but it was too fast."
"Where?" Arne asked tightly, fastly.
"Its leg was not- I don't know how-"
"Which way?" Arne asked again, sweat coating his skin, he imagined those slicing yellow eyes that blinked at him and glared at him in a not less than a second of difference.
"The- the right hallway, I am sorry."
"If I find that you have him by any chance, I am going to kill you." Arne growled, heart thundering in his chest.
The doctor took two steps back in fright, his eyes wide, "No, I would never-"
He looks at the doctor, believes the look in those grey eyes, "I am sorry," He says.
He runs.
*******************
It had started raining; the sky turned grey, winds howling, leaves shaking.
The streets had turned dark, clouds thundering in the sky.
He had called his mother, calls going straight to voicemail.
He runs.
He sees people taking shelters under the awnings of coffee shops, going inside those bright stores, hears some animal's cry, their thoughts making them shake in fear, blocks them at once.
He calls the police blabbers his address, tells them his mom is in danger, t-shirt clinging to his chest and back, shoes taking him fast through the constant water dripping on the street, the cars honking, passing by, mud flowing throw the air soaking on his back and sides, blue eyes wide, hair clinging to his forehead, chest hurtling up and down to his stomach.
He thinks, Mom. Mom. Mom.
Be okay. Mom. Be okay.
He runs.
************
Arne knows the moment he gets home.
He opens the creaking doors and finds everything dead silent.
His heartbeat beating in erratic drums in his ears he steps inside the open living room and finds it engulfed in dark, the TV switched off, the Discovery channel which his mother always played on mute blank, black, no clattering of kitchen utensils which always announced his mother was making his favourite food in the world, the only source of light, the slash of silver entering through the sash windows beside the ancient vase his mother had bought in an auction, the colour of his mother's hair.
He carefully walk but his shoes squelch on the wooden floor, he doesn't have time, he knows from the fear in his gut, he stealthily walks to the glass table, with as much stealth he can manage, and finds the pair of fork that he and his mother always kept for convenience eating on the sofa watching and discussing History together.
He breathes hard, gripping the fork tightly in his knuckles keeping the pointed edges out, he walks to the open kitchen, his other hand falling on the limestone countertop searching erratically for the knife he knew would be there, he hears a clash, his hands on a glass jar, SHIT. He tries to even the knock his hand made, but before he can keep the fork on the counter to catch the jar, it falls on the floor with a shattering sound, "Fuck." Arne mutters and jogs away from the kitchen to the right hallway.
The darkness helps; he sticks to the wall and starts walking to the way of his mother's study when he hears it, the steps above the staircase, he stills.
A door creaks on the floor above, his bedroom or the guest room.
His heart starts to thunder in his chest, he can't wait for the police it's his mom.
The decision and the steps were on an instant, he doesn't try not to make a sound or tread carefully, he runs up on the steps, two at a time, he thinks of the reason why he can handle it:
1. He runs daily, he had enough fitness
2. He was tall, very, very much.
3. He has played fake sword fight with bats and spoons and forks before, surely he could jab someone if it came to that.
And there he is up above, on his floor, the hallway passing down to the right, the left balcony door still closed.
He sees the shadow then, coming from his bedroom door on the silver light that was falling from the sash windows at the end in hallway, and his breath stutters.
He grips the fork hard taking one in both hands, in the darkness and the skylights, heart storming in his chest along the stormy night, he walks to his bedroom.
The door opens easily, no efforts to stop.
Arne grips the fork hard, expects the shadow to jump on him, it doesn't.
His eyes move to the right in his room, beside the ivory bed towards the window, and his breath escapes his body, his mind seizing.
He sees the same yellow eyes, yellow and brown glittering in the night like chandelier and diamonds, light emanating from it, his eyes rove down and befall upon naked chest with abs and muscles, pale yellow and glinting golden like those eyes, a kind of shine emanating from them, to the waist and the legs covered in flaming red velvet trousers, the same colours as the flaming red hair on top, glinting in those silvery lights silvering through the window, the rain had stopped, Arne notices, somewhere around his short circuit in the brain.
He blinks, the man doesn't change, it wasn't a dream, "Are...are you the rabbit?" Arne asks disbelievingly, Arne wasn't even sure why was he asking this question, but deep inside he knew, "animals, they lie sometimes."
He wasn't sure his mom had ever told him, animals turned to humans.
The man tilts his neck, his expression sour and observing, he looks up and down at Arne as if he was a museum artefact and the man was barely amused.
"Where is my mom?" Arne steps forward, goosebumps raking across his skin, his skin burning feverishly, he grips the fork tightly, ready to pounce if needed, though he wasn't sure if he could, considering the imposing body of the man which took space in Arne's room making it seem like it had barely enough room to hold the man even if Arne was some inches taller than the man, the man's skin looked so bulging and strong, Arne wasn't sure if the man didn't work out every hour in his life.
"Who are you?" Arne gulps, trying to keep the shock and fear out of his voice.
"Talish" The man's voice was like a whip in the air, "Your Majesty," his tone cutting.
"What!?" Arne's eyes widen, the man was crazy or something, if he was even a man, Arne thought, veins ticking on his face, gripping the fork hard, he wasn't sure how he was going to do this, "Why are you here, where is my mom?"
The man sighs, as if it was a mere inconvenience, then suddenly his eyes flash up and clashes with Arne's, a thunder erupts out Arne's window, he hears a bird screeching in the night, his mind suddenly going inside that bird, it was searching desperately for its fledgling.
Arne closes his eyes tightly, and blocks the sound with effort and guilt.
When he opens it, he sees the man standing close to him, he looks down and finds inches of space between them, a surge of spring fields, mountains and fire enters Arne's nostrils, the yellow browns eyes glinting up at him defiantly, and Arne notices the difference then, a thunder strikes again, and silver lights enter the room, making light fall on that sharp jaw, and high chin, it was not a look of a man, it was when he glared at Arne like that, but his face was of a boy, sharp witted and venomous boy, and he was looking at Arne with so much hatred, he couldn't fathom what he had done to him.
Except when Talish slithers with an evil relish, "Your mother has been arrested under the imputation of taking you away from the kingdom without the King's assertion, she will be rotting her days in the dark prison."
And Arne draws back his hand without thinking, his right hand throwing down the fork towards the Talish's chest with all the power, and there's a second of surprise in those stranger's eyes, before he easily grasps Arne's arm midway, his another hand pushing the fork easily out his grasp that goes skittering across the floor, and he picks up Arne like he weighed nothing and throws him on his bed.
Arne hears the sound of sirens coming out the house, gets half up, breathing hard, grits, "You are mad, the police are not going to let you go, where the fuck is my mom?"
And the yellow and brown eyes glints above him, like gems flickering in caves, the gems that enticed you and resulted in your death, that boyish face was just a facade, there was something dark and poisonous in those eyes, his tenor was mocking, "I don't deal with police," and then there was that burning gaze, the same one which had made Arne stop in his running track, the same one he took to the hospital, he was so, so, sure.
Arne heard steps down his house, the sound of the door opening downstairs.
And the boy says, "Neither would you."
An orange haze comes over Arne, and he looses consciousness, his body becoming languid, falling on the bed, he struggles to opens his eye, sees those lupine eyes burning down at him.
His eyes close.
He feels himself flying.
*****