The Man in the Pointed Hat - Teaser Chapter

“Excuse me?” Grace asked nervously, the air of the new world she had landed in made her lungs full and heavy. “Can you tell me where I am? And…who you are?” Her questions were aimed towards the large, hunched over figure, perched on a broad tree stump to her left. The figures floral patterned, purple cloak covered it, a sharp contrast from the sea of towering, green foliage behind it.

It slowly grew, then shrank again, short pauses between each shift as it took long, deep, wheezing breaths. “You mean to tell me that you do not know my name?” The figure groaned finally, its voice aimed towards the ground.

“Should I know you?” Grace asked quietly, puzzled, but not wanting to give her acquaintance any reason to shun her.

“Hmmmm….” The ball of cloth rumbled. “I see. So you must be the new one.”

“The new one? The new what?” The figures riddles had only baffled her further, causing her eyes to burn with frustrated tears as she forced them back. Her hands gripped firmly at her soft, stripped jumper as she folded her arms, the morning chill cooling her.

“Do you remember how you got here?” The head of the statue seemed to shuffle upwards slightly, though its face was still hidden from sight.

Grace thought back through her memories of this strange world so far, trying to pin point the moment when she became trapped in it. She remembered falling, then waking up, but nothing of what happened before. Then as her mind looked back to her home and her family, she remembered a name, though she was unsure why. “Marcos…” She mumbled.

“Marcos?” The figure jolted with curious haste, the waves of its robe springing at their base.

Grace shivered, she was certain that her words had been too quiet for the figure to hear.

His body dragged forwards, until he was barely sitting on the stump, his leather and string bound shoes, planted firmly against the lush, fresh grass beneath. With a creaking moan it dragged itself up from its stool, a large, old, wrinkled hand emerging from within its cape.

Grace’s eyes flickered down to the hand as an aged, brittle knot of oak, sprouted from its’ palm like a walking stick. It dripped and twirled down until its base was at the ground. However the elegant swirls of the wood were not enough to drag her eyes away from the wrist of the being. Thick, matted brown fur, peered from under the sleeve, almost reaching the characters knuckles. Its fingers were lined with dull, unkempt nails, hanging over the stick. She felt a horrid chill as the creature began to rise, towering above her by several feet.

As the folds of the cloth unravelled, they revealed a thick, bronze belt, clamped around the creature’s waist, like two bands of metal, curling around one another. Its buckle was decorated with a wolf’s head, clamping down on a curled snake within its mouth. Grace moved her hands down to her hips, when they were stopped by the cold kiss of metal. Her eyes were quick to follow. Another belt, with the exact same decoration and colour, cuddled her waist. How did it get there? She could not remember. How could she not have noticed?

Finally, the figure stopped growing, though its shadow was great enough to cover the lost and fragile woman. Grace’s eyes traced up the seam of the cloth, leading up towards the shaded opening of the hood. Two pins of yellow light glistened down at her, their light milky like the glow of a cat’s in the dark.

Her concentration was shattered by a sinister howling in the distance, back the way she had come. Her head snapped in the direction of the cry as her skin crawled with fear. At first she had found the landscapes of the world to be beautiful, but clearly the beings that lived in it, were not so pleasant. The slight traces of light across the creature’s old face were enough to highlight a toothy, twisted grin. Its pointed teeth were crooked, unsightly, as two thick incisors lapped over its top lip. Its nose seemed broad and upturned, like that of a bear, with slight resemblance to that of a human.

Grace turned back to the tall, broad, hunched figure before her. Her legs felt numb as her heart began to pound. Her eyes locked with the old creature’s, increasing her anxiety as she was hopelessly outmatched if she tried to flee.

“You best start running lassie.”

With her body automatically taking the cloaked one’s advice, her legs wobbled to a panicked sprint, dashing down the grassy lane and deeper into the thick growth of the forest. Her bare feet slapped against the moist grass, making it hard for her to keep her balance as she dashed down the hillside. Small whimpers of fear and confusion managed to escape through her gasps, strands of her hair hooking and sticking against her glossy lips.

Back at the stump, the sizable beast’s ears flickered up, under the hood, to the ring and pound of heavy footfall, bounding towards him. With a large stride, he turned into the middle of the pathway, acting as a wall. Placing the cane out before him, with its peak firmly against the ground, it waited for the owner of the howl, and the footsteps to reveal itself.

Soon enough, several swift, dashing shadows sprinted down the hill, weaving between the trees, closing in on the robed figure. Finally, the head of the pack broke into the sunlight, bounding on all its four, clawed feet. As it reached the blockade, it reared up, slowing its pace as it jogged on its back legs.

“Delwood! Where has the new one gone?” The arrival snarled, its long, slavering muzzle demanded an answer.

“Hello there, Pup.” Delwood smirked, toying with the lanky, fur covered hunter. “Lost another piggy, have we?”

“Remember your place!” The canine barked with a hissing voice, its tongue slightly peering over its bottom jaw as it panted. At that moment, the other shadows from the forest galloped to their master’s side, sniffing the air and scanning the forest for their prey.

“My place is here, with this forest, and as head of his Lordship’s security, yours is at the gate, is it not?” Delwood challenged.

‘Pup’ bared his teeth in annoyance as his clawed fingers curled into a tense, clawed position.

“So, how did this one manage to slip by you?”

“Sir, this way!” Cried one of the smaller, slim, long hounds to the side of Delwood.

With a sharp thump of his arm, Delwood jousted his cane into the ribs of the outspoken creature, silencing it and knocking it flat to the ground. It whined and snapped with petty pain as its hind legs kicked across the ground.

“This land is my territory, your superiority does not stand here. Answer my question, and I may let you pass.” Delwood bargained. “How, did that girl slip by you?”

The standing beast had grown insulted by the lack of respect, his anger had gained control of him. Drawing back his clawed hand, and swiping it down towards the guardian, the werewolf like monster demonstrated his authority. Delwood was barely able to react, swinging up his oak, using it as a counter against the oncoming hunter. With a whistling strike, splinters burst into the air as the claws managed to tear through the bark, carving a deep chunk from its trunk.

“Let us pass!” The victor demanded as Delwood stumbled back, his huge weight shocking the dirt.

He was left panting, his cane still held up to his head. “Very well, Relback, you may go.” His words were heavy with regret as the hunched creatures to his feet dashed past him, their leader still drooling as his success.

“Seems as though your age has made you both weak and wise.” Relback taunted, before too doubling over and sprinting after his subordinates.

Delwood shuffled in place, turning to see the hungry pack vanishing into the endless sea of trees and forest that rolled down the side of the mountain. Fog lay at its crater, shrouding the distance.

“For both your sake, and mine, young girl, I hope your legs are stronger than your courage. And I pray the he finds you before Relback does. Just run, new one. Run!” His booming voice echoed across the wind, ringing through the mountains and, hopefully, into the ears of the helpless prey.