7. Osiris

7

OSIRIS

A wedding dress?

Osiris stared down at the woman on the ground, his shadows dancing through the space around him. Keeping his distance from the woman, his fists opened and closed reflexively at his sides. It was dark out, perhaps she did not see him.

Perhaps she would have no memory of this incident at all. Even so, if she did remember, would she alert others of her kind? Would they use him harming her as reason for an attack? Slightly shifting his weight from foot to foot, he could feel the nerves bundling in his gut.

Looking back to Shadow, his heart fell as he took in the sight of his new book, now a tattered mess of mud and bent pages. It must have been thrown from the carriage amidst the chaos.

Perfect. The only thing I had to sate my curiosities, is gone.

His shadows flicked around him as he sensed blood beginning to leave her body.

She is bleeding.

But he couldn’t possibly take her. He would be bringing her into his safety and, even more concerning, she would be around him . The feeling of being the cause of fear in someone else made his gut churn.

He never wanted to be the reason for harm.

Yet, she was harmed. Because of him.

Cautiously, he took small steps towards her. Her eyes would flutter open every few breaths, but he made sure to use his shadows to hide his presence. Kneeling down, he reached for her.

If her injury was not severe, perhaps she would be fine on her own.

His gloved hand was an inch away from her head when, suddenly, he froze at the sound of her voice.

There was no room for mistake or misinterpretation of what he heard.

“Escape,” she whispered, before losing consciousness once more.

His shadows snapped around even more erratically reflecting the sinking feeling in his chest.

She is only unconscious.

He had to remind himself as he knelt beside her.

Relenting to his only option, Osiris moved his arms gently under her legs and the back of her head. Once he had a hold on her, he carefully lifted her up and walked back to the carriage.

What am I doing?

Just as he placed her limp body on the wooden bench, he could sense yelling and hollering from within the forest.

The beings were beginning to leave the enclave.

Osiris hurriedly hoisted himself up, sitting next to her, and flicked the reins. The carriage began to pull away slowly, but Osiris pushed Shadow to move faster.

Using his shadows, he made sure to hide her from any beings that might happen upon them. If anyone looked their way, they would only see darkness.

Why is a human woman out this late at night on Hallows Eve?

He flicked the reins again, urgency clawing at his chest

If any of the beings knew of a human encroaching on their space, it could cause a mass panic.

Pushing Shadow faster and faster until they finally pulled onto his land, Osiris did not waste even a moment of time as he jumped out of the carriage, turning back to scoop up the human woman. His shadows spun and curved around them as they walked towards the door.

One of his shadows unlocked it and Osiris rushed inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

He walked through his house which, all of a sudden, felt much too small. Much too vulnerable.

If she screamed would the beings hear it?

If she bled would the beings smell it?

His mind reeled as he placed her down on his bed, tainting his ivory sheets with her blood.

She’s still bleeding.

Turning on his heel he raced to one of his chairs, ripping off the small blanket before running back to the frail, unconscious woman.

Shadows roiling in agitation, Osiris tore off a small piece of fabric, balling it up in his hands. He used his shadows to gently rotate her face to the side so that he could fully see the cut, not wishing to touch her directly.

He doubted she would appreciate that.

A momentary wave of relief washed over him as he noted that the laceration was not life threatening. It would just be painful upon waking.

Osiris tended to his unconscious guest until the blood had all been wiped away, and no fresh drops formed on the line of the cut.

Once he was done, he backed away from her, once again putting space between them.

What was she even doing out there?

Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall farthest from her. He had more questions than he was comfortable with.

He needed to speak with her.

But not like this.

He thought as his hand lifted to his shadows where his pumpkin should have sat.

I need to speak with her all the while remaining hidden.

Letting the hours pass them by, Osiris sat watching, waiting for her to wake up. His head sat on the counter across from him, and each time she stirred he reached for it.

In spite of his current predicament and the possible consequences for bringing her to his home, he still wanted to ease her discomfort, even if only slightly, upon her awakening.

Perhaps this isolation has truly corrupted my mind.