Chapter Three
Cell phone cameras flashed. Pip closed his eyes and looked away, trying not to let the humiliation get to him. He knew this would appear all over social media, but at least it meant he might have a chance of surviving the ordeal. Someone would see him tied up and know where to look. He wouldn’t be left out here forever.
“Look at this one.” Rhett snorted.
It went dark. Pip lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Jason’s light illuminating the ground at his feet.
“I got it before the Pipsqueak closed his eyes. Look at how weird they are.”
“They’ve always been weird, like him. So what?” Oli asked. All three huddled around Rhett’s phone, looking down at the screen.
“So, with the spooky forest in the background, he looks like an actual freak,” Rhett explained.
“The gray one looks normal; it’s just…” Jason scrunched his nose in distaste. “The green one is weird. Ick. I didn’t realize there was such an intense color difference between them. What a fucking bizarre picture. Looks fake.”
Pip liked his eyes. Most of the time, his central heterochromia was too faint to notice. Although one of his eyes was solidly gray, the other eye had a crown of green around his pupil. Tendrils of color flared out, like green rays of sunshine from the black sun of his pupil, but the colors suited each other.
“Put it away.” Oli shuddered. “It’s weird. I don’t like it.”
“This whole place is weird.” Jason slowly swiveled, turning in a full circle on the spot and looking in every direction. “Is there a swamp nearby? I mean, what the hell is with this mist?”
“A temperature thing, or something.” Oli scowled and shuddered again. Or possibly shivered. “It happens sometimes, all right? Especially when it’s all weird and dark and damp, like in the woods. You don’t need a swamp to have mist.”
“I’m not so sure,” Rhett said uneasily. “Whatever. We’ve got our pictures. Let’s go. The Pipsqueak can deal with the mist all on his own.”
Pip squirmed against the ropes, trying to get them to go slack. “You can’t leave me here.”
Thankfully, they weren’t recording him. Pip knew how pathetic and scared he sounded. He knew begging Oli to change his mind wasn’t going to work, but he was stuck, and desperate.
“Stop complaining,” Jason snapped. “We haven’t gagged you. You’ve been pretty good so far. I thought you were learning something after all.”
Despite it all, Pip stood strong, attempting to conceal his fear. He wouldn’t let them think they’d won. He couldn’t. Even though it seemed they had.
“Let’s go,” Oli said brusquely, and he turned as if to leave.
“We all bow down to the Almighty Underbite,” Rhett teased, sweeping into a low bow as he backed away. “The only kid in town whose eyes are as messed up as his head is. You’re a total package, aren’t you? A real ladies’ man.”
The bullies all laughed at the joke.
Oli turned again and took a step toward Pip. “If by that you mean lady-man, yeah, sure. The only way he’s getting some love action is face down, ass in the air. No one’s going to want to look at a face like that while they fuck.”
Untrue words couldn't inflict pain, and Pip let them roll off his shoulders. He honestly considered himself attractive, in an unconventional way. Slender and neat, he’d never have the jock aesthetic, but he knew how to dress nicely. Apart from the subtle difference between his two eyes, there was nothing abnormal about him.
It didn’t matter that Oli and his gang couldn’t recognize it. They weren’t Pip’s type, anyway. Although at that moment, whether anyone could ever crush on him, took second place to the more pressing concern of whether he’d live to see freedom and then find the love of his life.
Oli turned again and set off toward home with his entourage close by. “Catch ya later, Pipsqueak,” he called out without looking back.
As Oli, Jason, and Rhett left, Pip closed his eyes and worked through a silent mantra. Their destructive words were meant to harm, not meant to tell the truth. He knew he couldn’t take anything they said seriously, and he internalized the thought over and over.
He was worthwhile. He was worthy. He was important.
When the sound of their footsteps faded into nothing, Pip opened his eyes again. He was well and truly alone.
“What are you going to do?” he asked nobody in a whisper, finding comfort in hearing his words out loud against the sounds of the night. He strained against the ropes. “There’s got to be something. You can figure it out. There’s a way to get out of this. C’mon, c’mon…”
Working his shoulders back and forth, Pip squirmed and tried to duck down. When it failed, he planted his feet against the base of the tree and tried to push himself forward.
The ropes didn’t give.
Of course they didn’t, and Pip found it challenging to focus on the positive right then.
There wasn’t much to be positive about in his life as a poor orphan. Gay and mostly in the closet. A teenager with few prospects and mediocre grades. Humiliated by bullies. Humiliated no matter what happened. Whether they came back and rescued him, or whether he was found dead or alive by other people.
Life was shit.
He could always yell, but it would most likely be a waste of breath and energy with no one around to hear him.
He could wait until the next morning and hope Mr. Hinsley took a gym class outside so someone on the football field might hear him, but even that was a stretch. They had taken him so deep into the forest Pip, doubted anyone would hear him.
He was worthwhile. He was worthy. He was important.
He had to remind himself. He whispered the words of his mantra out loud. He had to survive.
Pip breathed in deep and held it, then exhaled slowly. Panic started to build inside him, much as he knew it wouldn’t help.
The more he wore himself out, the worse it would be. He needed a solid plan into which he could invest all his energy. Flailing and screaming didn’t make for a good plan and might get him hurt. Without access to water, his throat would dry out, and he wouldn’t be able to call out when he needed to.
He wouldn’t survive long without water anyhow. Pip needed to play it smart and use the one tool he had that they couldn’t take away: his brain.
The forest wasn’t going anywhere; he wasn’t going anywhere. Unless those jackasses returned, which seemed unlikely, help wouldn’t arrive until morning at the earliest.
A fresh worry formed and took hold of his troubled mind. First and foremost, he needed to relieve the pressure building in his bladder. Already utterly humiliated by everything that had happened in these woods, Pip didn't want to add to the ordeal. If he could, he'd like to avoid someone finding him with urine-soaked pants and ammonia burns to his legs.
“All right,” Pip said, bolstering himself. “It’s easy. Your hands are—” He stretched his fingers. His hands were so close and yet, not close enough. He didn’t have the dexterity required to reach and tackle his fly.
A branch snapped, and Pip fell silent. Whatever had broken it sounded much heavier than a squirrel. What kind of creatures lived deep in the woods?
Bears. Coyotes. Wolves.
Pip stopped thinking about it. Instead, he kept very still and turned his head toward the noise. A pair of eyes flashed in the darkness, distinctly animal.
“God,” Pip whispered, unable to help himself. He strained against the rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “Please, please don’t do this.”
The eyes came closer. If it weren't for the pale moonlight that made its way through the foliage overhead, Pip never would have seen them. He couldn’t even make out what kind of animal they belonged to.
“I will kick you,” Pip warned. He kicked out his feet to show he meant trouble, but it only stopped the animal in its tracks, not turn it around.
A second set of eyes joined it, both of them glinting in the darkness. Then another. Fur, shimmering like still water under starlight, drew Pip’s eye. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of night, he saw them more clearly.
Magnificent creatures.
Wolves.
Movement caught Pip’s attention. While he hadn’t been looking, three more wolves had approached his other side. They formed a semicircle surrounding the tree. They gazed at him as though curious and afraid to get close.
“That’s right.” Although shaken, he trying to sound confident. “I’ll kick you. I’ll kick you, and it’ll hurt.”
Pip expected them to charge and braced himself for the assault when something surprising happened. The wolves sat. Mist swirled around their haunches, alive despite the still air. Pip had no way to explain what happened. He didn’t know a lot about wolves, but he didn’t think a pack of them would just sit and watch their prey.
Would they?
He watched them, alert for the sign of an attack, which he was sure would come at any moment.
If these were his last few moments alive, Pip wanted to make sure they counted. He took a minute to breathe in the forest air, crisp and humid, perfumed with pine and fallen leaves. He savored the rough feeling of bark against his skin, taking time to appreciate that he could feel at all. The beating of his heart drowned out most of the noises of the forest, but when Pip focused, he heard the chirp of crickets and the buzz of nighttime insects.
If only for a second, he distracted himself from the danger and said goodbye to a world far more beautiful than he’d noticed before.
The mist swirled in tendrils and parted.
Parted?
Wondering if it were a trick of the light, Pip squinted. There was no mistake. Moonlight streamed into the small section of forest with startling intensity, illuminating the six wolves gathered before him and revealing the strange parting in the mist. The wolves all sat to either side of it like they’d anticipated its arrival. It opened up wider, forming a straight passage. A pathway to Pip.
Farther, into the forest, the shadows moved. A shape emerged, taller than a wolf, but narrower than a bear. The manlike figure stood erect, and Pip would’ve thought it was a man, except for the antlers that rose from the creature’s head. They stretched into the low-hanging branches, yet never once became entangled.
The creature stepped into the moonlight.
It was a man.
He paid no attention to the wolves, acting as if they weren’t there, and they paid no attention to him in return. The wolves sat as still as obedient dogs. Maybe they were dogs, not wolves.
As the figure took a step forward along the mist-cleared path, familiarity washed through Pip, gripping his chest so hard, it hurt. Pip’s lips parted, but he had no words to speak. He froze.
He knew what he saw, but he couldn’t believe his eyes. Something about the tall, noble man seemed familiar. Not only did Pip’s mind struggle to remember, but his heart ached for the memory, too. It wasn’t just the man, either, but everything about this weird setting. The mist, the ancient forest, the damp scent of moss, the dogs.
That’s right; they were dogs. Or wolves? He couldn’t tell.
The feeling of purpose, of destiny, that Pip had harbored for so long, tugged with more force than it ever had before.
The figure stopped several feet away, and he looked Pip over curiously.
Pip couldn’t help it. He sobbed, and he had no idea why. Of course, his predicament was reason enough. The relief of being found alive and the surreal, ghostly environment, may have been the cause of the strange churning emotions that Pip didn’t understand and couldn’t control.
The tears came all at once, triggered by whatever had awakened in his soul. He struggled against his ropes as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. The mist. The wolves. The handsome antler man. All of it seemed strangely familiar, as if from a dream, or like something he’d loved long ago, but had forgotten all about.
The man lifted a hand, his fingers extended as if he were about to conduct an orchestra, and the dogs rose to their feet in unison. Pip wept, fighting to free his hands. His attempts were in vain. The man extended the hand slowly toward the tree, pointing a single finger. He moved with grace and nobility, as if the smallest of his movements still bore significance.
No, as if the smallest of his movements wielded enormous power. Pip knew this but wasn’t sure how.
The dogs moved into action. They approached Pip, each one of them slow and cautious. The first nuzzled against his thigh; the second mouthed at the rope, then bit and pulled. Soon, all of them were united in their efforts.
Somehow, Pip knew he was safe, and he watched without fear as they worked at the bindings.
The rope strained, then went slack, and Pip stumbled as his legs took his own weight once more.
With a strangled cry, Pip pulled free of the ropes and fell forward. Practicality urged him to run and not look back, but the sickening nostalgic part of his mind and the beating of his heart begged him to stay.
Sobbing and struggling with his choice, he remained still, frozen and unable to flee.
Letting his hand drop, the man stood, silent and stoic, in front of Pip for a long while. Surely this had to be a dream? He had to be hallucinating. This could not be real.
As the man stepped forward, Pip imagined a soft crunch of twigs and leaves. He didn’t hear any footsteps; they were inaudible over the constant buzz of the music of nature at nighttime.
Pip lifted his head, the last of his tears streaming down his cheeks. The closer the man got, the less the insistent tugging bothered him. Step by graceful step, the man traversed the forest floor until he stood directly in front of Pip. Close enough to touch.
Ropes still bound his hands. If they hadn’t, he would have run his fingers along the man’s sturdy jaw and felt the skin there. The more he looked, the more he thought the man’s skin looked wooden—rough, like the tree he’d been pinned against for so long. At the same time, young and green enough to bend without being brittle. It may’ve been a trick of the moonlight, as Pip looked through tearful eyes, but the stubble looked a lot like tree bark in a strange, but fitting way.
In turn, the man looked down at him, and he did reach out. Both of his hands trailed across Pip’s jaw, fingers encircling the back of Pip’s head. The man’s palms cupped Pip delicately, like a lover’s might after a long time apart. It should have felt weird, invasive. It didn’t.
The touch felt right.
When the man leaned down and kissed him, he stole the breath from Pip's lungs and the strength from his knees. Pip surrendered to him and kissed back, enchanted. For his very first kiss, it seemed so right in the moment, as if they had met already and a long-term commitment existed between them.
The way the man touched Pip with reverence and kissed with passion… it was something amazing and new for Pip. It felt as if they were longtime lovers reunited after spending some time apart. He even tasted familiar, a little bit like fresh salad leaves.
Pip knew nothing of this man, this creature, yet he trusted him. Instinctively, he trusted him more than anything.
Pip’s heart beat fast, heavy and full.
“Sleep,” the man whispered against Pip’s lips, his voice like a lullaby long forgotten.
Pip submitted to the magic and knew no more.