(7) Ashes

The table was set lovingly, and the scent of cherry pie drifted throughout the small kitchen, tantalizing the senses. The stone floor was cold, but the children didn’t care. The pitter patter of small feet echoed down the hall before she saw them, giggling, chasing each other, flurries of messy hair and eager grins. She bent down to take Amara in her arms, as if embracing her, but her fingers quickly went to the child’s sides and tickled. The little girl exploded in laughter, shaking her head furiously, her scarlet curls spinning about her cherubic face.

“Mommy no! Heehehehahaha! Stop!” the child squealed between breaths, and her brother joined in on the tickle attack rather quickly, his chubby fingers digging into her belly and sides. Annaliese stepped back, laughing softly, letting her son take over. A smile came to her lips soon thereafter, and she leaned down to kiss both children.

“Alright…time to get cleaned up! Go on now, get those faces and hands washed!” the mother exclaimed, and the two made a race to get to the basin, shouting and laughing all the way. Anna shook her head, smiling dotingly, and she turned round to face the spit, where a couple of quail roasted rather nicely. As she leaned in to turn the fowl round on its spit, she felt a couple of strong hands encircle her waist, pulling her back from the fire slowly to embrace her warmly. He had always smelt like pine, like the surrounding forests he traveled on horseback through, and she sighed with a smile as he leaned in to whisper in her ear:

“I’ve missed you my love.”

She turned around to face him, his startling blue eyes gazing down at her lovingly. She had always loved looking upon the face of her husband, his thick, dark locks hanging low around his ears, the distinguished mustache and beard shaved for today, making him seem younger, as he had been when they were engaged. Aiden never seemed to lose a day of youth to her. She hugged him tightly, and he leaned in to kiss her lips, then her forehead, then his blue eyes looked past her to the roasting quail.

“It smells fantastic,” he grinned at her and pressed her close once more to taste her lips again.

“But nothing quite quells my appetite as you.”

Annaliese breathed laughter at his smirk. He was always a shy man, but he never spared a thought around her. It was his boyishness that captured her heart, in the beginning, and now it was his utter love of her that kept her so happy. It was a dream come true that she found Aiden.

“You ought to be careful. I’m not sure we are ready for a third,” she chuckled, patting her stomach. He merely gazed on her with the same gentle blue eyes as he went to follow the children to the basin, and blew her a silent kiss.

“I’m ready when you are, Anna,” he said softly, then ran off after their giggling children, splashes heard in the distance.

She gazed into the fire for a long time it seemed, pulling her hair into a ponytail. It was strange how hot the kitchen had become, but she thought nothing of it, pulling the quail into the wooden serving bowl from the spit. She heard the patter of feet behind her again, and she felt a tug on her skirts followed by the small voice of her son.

“Mommy, I’m all clean now,” he piped from behind her, and she spun around with the delicious quail in the serving dish.

Her scream echoed throughout the stone walls of the manor, the quail falling to the ground before her feet.

“Can I have some pie now?” Zane asked, raising his plate to her, his skin on fire, flesh burning to the bone. The sweet smile on the child’s face twisted into a death’s head as his smooth skin burned away revealing charred bone. Her little son burnt until nothing was left, and he collapsed into a pile of ash and bone before her. Trembling, she saw that the whole of the manor was on fire, burning silently, though the heat was severe. Aiden came running into the kitchen with their daughter hand in hand, both set aflame, the smell of singed hair and flesh sickening. Anna doubled over to vomit on to the stone floor as her husband danced with young Amara in a macabre display, the flesh peeling from their bones as their hair burned to the scalp. The fire licked at Anna’s skin, but she did not burn, only all else around her. Another scream resounded from her throat only to end in sobs as she saw her family burn to ashes before her, and she crumpled to the stone floor, tears streaking her face.

Annaliese woke up screaming as she did in the nightmare, just as her children’s laughter became shrieks of agony. Wraafenn sat up and growled as the felhound neared her, and the demon tried to nuzzle itself against its master in a failed attempt of comfort. She had been an idiot for even thinking she could sleep: the nightmares always found her. Instead, she curled into a ball upon the bed sheets, shuddering with each sob, waiting for the sun to chase away the wicked dreams for her.

The Darkness could not protect her in her sleep…