Man That You Fear

Man That You Fear by Shikhee

Proem

Thunder crackled overhead like cellophane being crushed in a fist, backed up by an explosion of lightning like a Xenon bulb in the granite hued sky. The sun had long since sunk beneath the horizon without any hope of breaking through the barrier of gray nimbus that had collected itself for miles around, preventing any light from breaking through and shining down on the land below. Such was the normal weather for England and thus the towns and cities that she housed and yet it never ceased to frighten Remus, who at the time was only six-years-old. The storm created not only the intense sensation of fear in him but also a peculiar surge of ferocity; it must have been the way the thunder roared like a caged monster that gave him said feeling, the utter ferociousness in every explosion that erupted from the heavens. Yet fear and ferine-qualities were never a wise thing to fuse in any situation, no matter the person's age.

He was currently the solitary occupant of his house - not because of parental negligence, but because other matters had chosen this time to intervene. His mother had only recently departed for St. Mungo's after receiving notice that there was some sort of medical emergency that only she could set right again and his father had yet to come home. There was no telling how late Julius would be arriving home once the Ministry had decided they had used up a significant amount of his time, so Remus didn't anticipate the arrival of his father anytime soon. That's not saying, of course, that he wouldn't enjoy having his father Apparate right there on the spot and currently diminish the fright of the storm.

Lightning burst from the ominous aftermath of its more vocal, uproarious companion, illuminating the expansive horizon for miles in a few brief seconds. The windows surrounding Remus flashed only a moment after the initial bolt had struck, giving the broad panes the illusion of eyes opening and closing in a hasty, spastic flutter. He jumped in sync with the thunder's growl, his entire body taut with fright. From his position in the kitchen, his back against the wall, the bleached bone white panel of cupboards on his left, he had a clear view of the front foyer, door and windows flanking it on each side. He didn't dare to move from his hiding place, letting his imagination hold his common sense hostage as he was clearly convinced that someone apart from himself lurked around the premises of his home. The crunch of dead leaves being shuffled or stepped on was certainly not made by the storm - only a person could create such a sound - and what about the eerie, inhuman groans he could swore he heard in between the thunder and the howling of the wind? Remus wasn't sure what was more terrifying: a human assailant or a creature, a monster. Enforced by the broad and lurid contents of his thoughts, Remus imagined all sorts of horrifying beasties on the other side of the walls, peering in through the windows, standing right outside the door, waiting for him to take a single step away from his hiding spot so that they might pounce and snatch him away somewhere.

A cramp in the muscle of Remus' left thigh burst into existence, forged from being forced into a rather awkward position of having been bent for so long. He cast his eyes down onto his irritated leg and gently lowered his hand to it, squeezing the skin to try and get the muscle to settle down or at least stop hurting, the last thing he wanted to do was shift his position. Remus grit his teeth beneath the pursed folds of his lips and closed his eyes, arguing internally whether or not he should consider moving into a different position to alleviate the pressure on his legs. But no he didn't want to move, didn't want to make a sound if he could help it. His tiny heart pumped fast in his chest as he opened his eyes slightly, squinting past the blur of eyelashes to gaze at the cabinets across from him, cast in a disturbing white light from the lightning that flashed through the window over his left shoulder. He assumed that no one standing on the other side of said window would be able to see him - if he stayed where he was. Thus he was determined not to move. He saw no shadows projected onto the cabinet from the window, only the faint trickle of raindrops that rain down the glass like tears and even that wasn't as ominous as the things that Remus imagined. He didn't want to keep staring at the illumination on the cabinets in case something did happen to appear there, yet he couldn't bring himself to turn his gaze away. Transfixed he stared at the cabinets, knees pressed up against his chest, arms wrapped around his legs (except for the hand that gripped onto his cramped thigh), and held his breath.

And then a shadow appeared, passing quickly over the cabinet as if the thing that it had come from was moving fast.

Remus jumped again, this time losing his entire balance and falling back against the wall, his arms extended to push against the wall to his right and the cupboard on his left, eyes wide and frantic as he stared at the spot he had first seen the shadow. He wasn't sure if it had really happened or if his mind was playing tricks on him, and the dispute that had wracked his mind only picked up again: Should he move and assume it was just his imagination, or stay put because something was actually there? The possibilities were endless, spawned from Remus' mistrust of his own instincts and of the world outside his home. He thought about his mother, and what she would do in such a situation.

His mother, practical, mild-tempered and perennially benign, would most certainly have been able to remove herself from the hiding place ages ago, not wanting to let her fears get the best of her. She would only hesitate for a few seconds, but she had the good judgment to know that there was nothing out there that could hurt her - hadn't she told Remus countless times that a storm was just sound and light? Neither could harm him in any way if he didn't let them, and here he was, cowered in the corner of his kitchen, whimpering and hiding, letting it hurt him.

Remus breathed in slowly through his nostrils and closed his eyes, tilting back his head so that the base of it was pushed up against the wall. He counted backwards from ten in his head before he made any movement, which was hesitant and slow at best, as if he were moving against some great current or tide. He brought his legs back up to his chest and drew in his arms, relocating them so that his palms were pushed flat on the floor below him, the muscles tensing to spring up as soon as he allowed himself to. His mother wouldn't be afraid, she would have been able to get up hours ago and go about her life, completely unaffected by the storm that was raging over her head, and for this he allowed himself a twinge of shame that he would behave so cowardly. Remus was glad he was home alone so that no one was forced to bear witness to his cowardice.

Grimacing slightly, Remus pushed himself to his feet with his hands, pressing his back against the wall so that even though he had moved he still wouldn't be seen if there was the smallest chance that someone was on the other side of that window, not as pusillanimous as hiding but not entirely valiant either. Glancing quickly at the cabinet across from him just to make sure that no more shadows passed by Remus took in a quick breath and stepped out from the confines of his hiding spot, the muscles in his back tightening as if anticipating to be struck. There were no sounds, not even the thunder that had no problem roaring and making as much noise as it possibly could minutes ago, and Remus let out a quick puff of air from his chest, the tension that had gathered there unwinding itself. He glanced back quickly at the window still over his left shoulder, the lace curtains obscuring his chance to see out from his current position, waiting a few seconds in case he saw movement again. There was nothing, only the rain that rolled down the glass. Remus bit his lip as he pivoted and turned around completely, facing the window that was positioned above the cupboard that ran along the eastern side of the kitchen. He thought back again to his mother and was infused with a strange surge of courage as he walked up to the window, stood up on the tips of his toes and gripped the curtains tightly in his hands. Holding in the air that was moving out of his lungs, Remus pulled the curtains aside, letting a stream of lightning pour in through the window and blind him momentarily. There was nothing but darkness on the other side, darkness and his own reflection gazing fearfully back at him. Remus sighed and allowed himself a tiny smile of relief, as his shoulders sagged and he pulled back from the window, slightly confident with himself for having conquered his fear - which was when he saw it. A face, a fucking face, stared back at him from the darkness, the eyes pale and wide yet slightly fierce, as if it were surveying something weaker and finding it terribly funny.

Remus jumped back and let out a small shout, which he quickly smothered with the palm of his right hand, the beating of his heart picking up again until it had reached dangerous speeds. In his left hand he still held the lace curtain, unable to let it go for his muscles had locked up in paralysis as he continued to hold the gaze of the thing on the other side of the window. He was afraid to look away - hadn't someone once said that looking away from a beast was quite possibly the worst thing you could do, considering that it was an insult to it's ferocity? Looking away meant that you weren't concerned with it at all, that it posed no threat to you in any way. Looking away would mean that whatever it was would try and get through to Remus, but holding the thing's gaze didn't seem to be so brilliant of an idea either. Remus had never seen something so pale before, the thing's skin was white and waxy, pulled tight across its face so that it looked more like a skull than anything. It had a high forehead and bangs that were plastered against the skin from the rain, and its eyes were round and the palest colour he'd ever seen. It was hard to tell in the lack of suitable light, but Remus assumed that they had to be blue or gray.

Two more white objects appeared from the darkness and pushed up against the window with a soft thud. Remus felt like he was about to tear himself to pieces over the fright, but then he realised that it was palms - no, hands. This thing was most likely a human, Remus didn't think that a centaur would wander this far into human civilisation just to frighten some little boy. No, they had better things to do, didn't they? Stargaze and avoid humans and predict impending doom and all that rot. Remus thought back randomly to a memory he had of one of his father's most troubling cases which involved a particularly rowdy centaur that was prone to lash out at any human that had discovered it - and considering that this particular centaur was prone to wandering around magical communities, there was certainly a lot of victims.

Another tap came from the window and Remus was stirred from his thoughts, wondering wildly if another hand would appear, but it was only the person's fingers thumping against the glass. Obviously the person was trying to bring him back to his senses. Remus stared at the person's fingers; they were long and thin, fragile stems that grew off of a bony centerpiece. A glint of gold on the person's middle finger of their left hand caught his attention - a ring! Remus glanced back up to the person's face, noticing small features he hadn't seen before - the high cheekbones or the feminine curve of their lips, the swanlike neck that stretched somewhat gracefully out of the darkness. It was a woman.

"Help me, won't you?" She asked, her eyes large and pleading with him as her voice became muffled as it struck the glass. Remus coiled in horror at the sound of it, sensing that something was clearly amiss with this woman. What sane person went around banging on people's windows during the middle of a storm, anyway?

Hesitantly, afraid he'd tear his muscles in half they were clenched that hard, Remus shook his head, his teeth chattering.

"Oh, but you must." The woman replied, her mouth widening into what could only be a maniacal smile. A flash of white teeth leapt out from under her lips before she erased the grin from her face, morphing her expression into a pleading waif again. "You must help me. It's awfully chilly out here and the rain is simply dreadful. You must help me, Remus, you must."

Remus' lips emitted a small moan of fright as he let go of the curtain and pushed his left hand against his mouth on top of his right one, continuing to shake his head back and forth, denying what he had just heard. How could she know? How could she how could she how could she -

The woman drew back her hands and kept talking, repeating Remus' name over and over again in a soft, sing-songy voice that one would use to lull a child into sleep. Sleep was the last thing that Remus felt like doing at the moment, yet he could do very little else but stand there and watch as the woman's hand curled into fists, her fingers curling up into her palm with the abnormally long thumb planted on top, and she turned them so that the sides were facing the window. In a blur of waxy white the woman's fists struck against the window loudly and with force, shaking the glass in its frame but doing no other harm besides. Remus didn't even react the first couple of times she punched the window, coming to his senses only when the woman's voice rose to a snarl, her lips and face contorting with inhuman rage as she continued to say his name. Remus backed up from the window, unable to tell if his eyes were deceiving him or if the woman's skin was really stretching and twisting in what could only be a clearly painful transformation. He noticed that the lightning and thunder seemed to have cleared up since it had yet to make an appearance for a good ten minutes, and that there was still some sort of light being cast down on the woman - a pale, ghostly light.

Moonlight.

Remus finally understood what she was, although he wouldn't accept the knowledge fully. It was impossible, no inconceivable, that something of such a nature was standing there, inches away from him, trying to get in. There was no way that she could possibly be...

"Werewolf," Remus gasped under his breath, backing up from the window and almost stumbling over his own feet. He continued to shake his head although he withdrew his hands so that his arms could reach behind him to determine the distance of the wall so that he wouldn't be completely surprised when he backed into it. He could feel it against the tips of his left fingers; he was only three steps away from it.

The woman kept slamming her fists against the window but if she was still screaming his name he could no longer tell, her words had become so butchered from roars and snarls that it was currently impossible to know just what she was saying. Her pale skin was still rippling and was harder to discern from the darkness around her, her mouth opened in a large scream that would have been impossible for a human being to accomplish, and yet she'd managed to unhinge her jaw almost perfectly. Remus stared at the set of teeth on the upper part of her mouth that became elongated and sharp, the incisors of a beast. Her fists were no longer white blurs, hair and contortion had transformed them into paws and yet they still continued to slam against the glass, which Remus was frightened to realise was beginning to give in all at once. The woman's posture became hunched as the transformation commenced and Remus froze in place as her distorted face and hands disappeared from view.

His breaths escaped him in a flurry, sweat pouring down the back of his neck and from his hairline, plastering his dark brown hair to the sides of his head and staining the collar of his shirt. He knew she couldn't be gone, there was no way that she'd just leave him alone now that she'd seen him, but Remus still didn't completely dismiss that scrap of hope. Maybe a cloud had passed over the moon, giving him time to run away from her. Giving him time that he shouldn't be wasting by standing here, like a great prat, waiting to get bit.

Just as Remus turned and fled into the front foyer the sound of breaking glass exploded from behind him. He didn't even hesitate or turn around to confirm his worst fears - she had gotten in. Quickly Remus sprinted around the furniture and made a beeline for the stairs, wanting to put as much distance between himself and her as he could in the shortest amount of time. He didn't want to try the front door, not knowing if there were more out there and that running out into the wilderness was certainly not the safest thing in the world for him to do. She'd probably be more adept at moving around the woods in the darkness than he ever would be. The hurried pair of footfalls that came from behind him was the same as his own two feet, which surprised him - werewolves didn't run on all fours, then? As Remus turned sharply to his left to ascend the staircase he caught a quick glimpse of the woman in her complete transformation. It was horrid.

Dark hair had sprouted all over the woman's face and skin that was visible to Remus, the shreds of her clothing still clinging to her transformed torso and waist, but serving very little purpose as a beast had no real need to conceal itself. The woman's nose had elongated into a snout, and her entire face became completely opposite of what a human's was distinctly known to have. Fangs of lethal proportions flashed from beneath the flaps of her gums and a trail of saliva poured down over her lips and chin, staining the matted fur at her throat. Her eyes were still wide and a pale blue, which Remus found rather frightening in itself, that she still had the same eyes even after being so horrendously transformed. Her spine was curved into the shape of a sickle and thus she was forced to lean over at a position that would've made humans tumble, yet she seemed adept at balancing herself. Her arms weren't as long as they had once been and were curved as if she were about to wrap her arms around someone, the top of her knuckles just grazing the surface of the floor, fingers elongated in appearance because of the length of her talons. But it was the way in which she held her arms that unnerved him, the way they didn't touch the floor when she took her steps. She ran on her hind legs, standing as straight as she could manage.

And that was what frightened Remus behind words, behind comprehension. She wasn't galloping after him like a regular wolf or even anything of the canine genus, she was running in a horrid beast's imitation of a human.

Remus tried not to stumble up the first flight of steps, and just managed to skirt past the second landing before he found himself crashing face first into the stairs that lead up to the second floor hallway. Even before his nose cracked against the stair, the cartilage shattering and blood spurting out from both nostrils like juice from a ripe fruit Remus knew he was better off dead. He knew what happened when a person was bit by a werewolf, and what was lying in wait for him was certainly worse than death itself. He just hoped it wouldn't be too painful.

Powerful hands gripped his shoulders from behind and surprisingly flipped him over onto his back, so that he was facing the woman. Blood poured down Remus' mouth and chin and he squinted up his eyes, refusing to see the face of that would be the bringer of his death looming over him. Against his wishes Remus whimpered seconds before the woman lowered her jaws and sank her teeth into the curve of Remus' neck, right where the neck and the shoulders met. Her teeth punctured through his skin quickly and without any significant trouble, the edges of her fangs brushing against the bone and tearing through muscle. When she withdrew her incisors it was only to pull back a large chunk of flesh with her, which she savored for only a few seconds before snapping her jaws this time at Remus' bicep, the muscle twitching as she punctured through it. The claws on her paws sank into Remus' left shoulder, blood squirting from the puncture wounds slowly, similar to a berry being squeeze between two fingers. Remus coughed and tried to cry out for help in the slim chance that there was any, but all that emerged from his sanguine lips was saliva, tinged to pink, and small bubbles of blood. A veil of black descended over Remus' eyes so that even when he tried to open them to stare up at the woman he couldn't see a thing. This only alarmed him slightly, his mind was growing hazy and his reaction time slowing down incredibly.

His consciousness began to fade, and surely his mind was playing tricks on him because he could've sworn that far off somewhere he heard a scream, and his mother's voice. Impossible though, she wouldn't be home for hours. Of course it was all in his head, there was no way his mom could be here. The last thing Remus heard before he sank deep into traumatic unconsciousness was the shrill, frenzied voice of his mother screaming, "IMPEDIMENTIA!" and the pain in his arm subsided a little, but certainly didn't disappear completely. And then he knew no more.

*********

Young Boy Mauled by Savage Beast - Suspected Werewolf Foul Play

Julius and Bellona Lupin suffered a horrendous tragedy when their young son, Remus, was attacked by a neighborhood werewolf Tuesday evening. He was quickly transported to St. Mungo's to begin immediate treatment, but there is no word whether or not he will survive. The beast in question, a young woman who's name and birthplace are unknown, claimed that she had taken an interest in the Lupin's son for quite some time now, and had attacked him on the first night of her transformation when her will was at it's lowest. The half-breed had previously evaded public exposure before this recent attack, a fact which has caused an uproar in several magical communities about the well-being of them and their families from such loathed half-breeds. Although the Minister of Magic, Sylvanus Pryce, vehemently denied that there was anything erroneous with the current safety procedures, there have been rumors of new laws and legislations that will be processed and passed in response to this heinous assault.

Bellona Lupin, known for her expertise work as a Healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, refused to comment on her perspective of what should be done to her son's assailant, stating that she wished only to see her son restored to full health. One wonders how well Remus Lupin will be, considering the unfortunate fate he will suffer - if he survives. Julius Lupin, a well-respected member of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, could not be reached for comment and has repeatedly denied and avoided any contact with the Daily Prophet for the past twenty-four hours.