The Mark

What I remember most vividly from my childhood is the last day I saw my family…

Times were hard… A famine was sweeping across the land… I had already watched many who were fitter than I die off or mysteriously disappear. When I asked Mother where they had gone she would look at me sadly and tell me not to ask such things.
Now I know where they went.

My aunt came from the city. She was a large set woman with eyes that seemed to fill with hate whenever I happened to fall within her sight. She often talked to Mother in hoarse whispers that ceased abruptly if I was ever noticed to be within earshot. While my aunt was there Mother always seemed so nervous. Her saddened glances in my direction seemed to become more frequent. At the time I could not make my child’s mind put together the pieces of what would have amounted to warning signs of what was to come.

There came a day where I awoke not in my home. I felt sharp jolts and smelt the distinct odor of horses. I opened my eyes to discover my aunt sitting across from me in a beaten down carriage. She told me that she was taking me to the city so that I could help my parents. I did not question it. I knew that Mother and Father were struggling. I wanted to help them back home, but because of my condition they always kept me hidden away inside. My aunt never said anything more to me the entire trip back to the city.

The city was a strange place to someone like me who had never been outside a small village. There were so many people that pushed and shoved and shouted. My aunt told me to keep my eyes down and bade me to cover my hair with a cloth that she provided.
I did as I was told. It was to help my parents after all.

My aunt took me down many streets that began to become less and less populace as we continued. The buildings loomed eerily over us and made me feel as if my already tiny frame was even more insignificant and fragile.

At length, we came to a door that seemed set very far apart from all others. The sign above was tattered and faded. My aunt knocked several times in what sounded like a specific rhythm. Several moments later the barrier seemed to swing open of its own accord, granting us passage into the dimly lit room beyond.

When I hesitated, my aunt placed her large, calloused hand at the small of my back and shoved me roughly in. As I stumbled across the threshold I felt as if I was falling into something tangible. The air was thick with an essence that I was unable to name. I felt the hairs rise all over my body and the blood drain from my already ghostly face.
“I’ve brought you something,” my aunt stated toward an unseen presence.

At first there was no answer. A stirring coming from farther back in the chamber made my entire body stiffen. A shadowy figure stepped forward just enough for its outline to be made visible by the dancing light of a single candle.

“Oh have you now?”

The voice was deep, dark, and raspy. It made me want to run; to run and never stop running. To try and escape the invisible hold I felt come over me at the sound of the sinister voice.

“My… What a weak little runt you’ve brought for me. What on Earth do you expect me to do with that?”

“She is weak as you have observed, sir. But, she is all that is left. That in itself should be enough,” my aunt replied calmly as she attempted to shove me further toward the frightful form.

I resisted. I found myself painfully rooted to the spot with overwhelming fear. The figure moved slightly closer, enough to wear its smirk was visible in the candle light.

“Come closer child,” it spoke in a deeper voice than before while making a come hither motion with its left hand.

I felt what can only be described as a collar-like force pull against my neck, forcing me forward. The force did not only pull, but burned with an intensity that made me cry out helplessly. This only seemed to amuse the dark entity more, as it grinned wider and chuckled smoothly.

I felt an icy hand adorned with long, sharp nails caress my neck and face. It slowly drew away the cloth that had hidden my snow white hair and pulled my face closer to that of what I had to assume by now was a man.

“What wonderful, bloody-red eyes you have!”

A sound that probably would have been a whimper became caught in my throat.
The smile got wider still as the shadowed man spoke to my aunt without ever taking his eyes from my own.

“I believe we will indeed find use of this one… After all, the weak can be made strong. And appearing to be weak will get her places that others would never be able to achieve. Yes, we will indeed be able to make something of her.”

“My asking price will be matched?” my aunt replied, not seeming to be at all influenced by the deep feeling of unnaturalness that seemed to seep from the very walls of the place.

“You will have what you desire.” With that the face of the one holding me so fiercely moved closer. I could see bright purple eyes with black slits where round pupils should have been. “Now, my little one, why do you not sleep for a while, then we shall see what can be made of you.”

Within the depths of the man’s left eye I began to see a shape appear. It glowed and began to sear my eyes and became all that I could comprehend. I no longer was aware of the room, the cold hand around my neck, or the spine chilling breath that touched my face. The shape, what I remember Mother always describing as the mark of the damned, blocked out everything else.

Then, there was only darkness.