"All set?" asked Tyler as they headed for the door. But the two of them stopped short.
Grandpa Ragnar stood at the doorway, a stern look on his face that seemed very out of place.
"And where are you boys off to?" he asked them, his arms crossed.
Tyler and Andy turned to one another.
"We're? um, going hunting," said Tyler.
"Hunting for what?"
Tyler thought about it for a moment, then said with a shrug, "Wolves."
"Wolves, huh?"
Their Grandfather's expression seemed to ease up at this point. But he still looked nervous, or sad, the two of them couldn't tell.
"Well, I can tell you already that you've forgotten something."
Ragnar pulled something out of his pocket. It was a leather necklace, with a dark wooden symbol hanging on it. The symbol looked like an upward facing arrow.
Ragnar took the necklace and placed it in Tyler's hand.
"Grandpa, what is this?" asked Tyler.
"Boys, this symbol is a rune, one of many symbols that were essentially our ancestors' alphabet. This one happens to be made after the god T?r, the one who gave up his hand to defeat the Fenris Wolf. So, in a way, this is his symbol."
"So, this symbol is? good luck?" asked Andy.
"Oh yes," said Ragnar, "The best luck you can ask for, in fact. It's a way of saying 'we know who you are and we're not afraid'."
The boys looked up at their grandfather, whose eyes looked almost pleading.
"You two take care of yourselves out there. Look out for one another."
Then he smiled, and the boys smiled back.
"We will, Grandpa," said Tyler.
Tyler took the necklace and tied it around his neck. Then, the two of them grabbed their gear and headed out into the bright cold afternoon. Ragnar watched as they disappeared down the road.
* * *
In the middle of the dark forest, Tyler held the necklace in his hand.
"Do you think? this scared the Wolf away?" he asked.
"I think it did. That has to be it." Andreas looked around the forest, aiming his light out into the darkness. "Ty, we need to get back to town, before it comes back."
They loaded up their rifles, packed up and prepared to head out.
"Will you be alright?" asked Tyler.
"Yeah, I can handle it."
They had less than a mile before they would be back in town, but Andreas had slowed down sustaining his injury. Both searched the forest to make sure they were alone.
Ty chuckled and said, "How am I going to explain to our parents that you got mauled by the Fenris Wolf?"
Andreas smiled and said, "Hey, maybe we can get Grandpa to vouch for us."
After another half mile, they stopped on top of a high hill. Andreas needed to sit down.
"Sorry about holding us up," he said.
"Don't worry about it. We haven't seen anything yet."
Andreas held on to his chest.
"What did Grandpa say about the bond?"
"What?"
"The bond? The Wolf let the gods tie him down using the unbreakable material, but he had a condition. It was only if one of the gods?"
"Put their hand in its mouth," Tyler finished his sentence for him, "The only way the Wolf would be defeated is if something was given up."
The two of them sat down, bundled up to keep warm as the wind whistled through the trees.
Suddenly, they heard a howl. It was loud, it shook the branches on the trees, and it was very, very close.
Tyler and Andreas snapped up their rifles, grabbed the flashlight, and searched the forest frantically. They turned and saw something approaching them. It moved closer and closer up the hill until they could see it in the light of the moon.
The eyes, teeth, and black flowing fur brought all new terror to the boys as the Wolf came into view.
In a hurry, Tyler secured the necklace making sure the rune was clearly visible. The Wolf seemed to flinch, lowering its head, but it continued growling and approaching with ghostly, ravenous eyes.
"Why isn't it stopping?" Andreas asked with panic rising in his voice.
"It can tell we're weaker now. Just? don't back down."
Tyler aimed his rifle straight at the Wolf's heart as it inched further. Then, without knowing why, Tyler began to inch forward as well, as if hoping to confront the beast face to face.
"Ty! What are you doing?" said Andreas. Tyler did not answer.
When they were several yards apart, Tyler and the Wolf paused, as though expecting a dual to break out. The two of them locked eyes with one another.
Suddenly, after what seemed like several minutes, the Wolf lunged and Tyler fired.
The shot missed, as the Wolf bounded to the side. Tyler aimed and fired again. It bounded to its left, causing the shot to miss again. He aimed one last time. The Wolf spread out its front legs and held its head low. Tyler held his breath and fired.
The Wolf lunged again to the left, but this time, it let out a cry. It had been hit, not in the heart or the head, but in the hind leg. Even so, the Wolf did not waste any time.
In the time it took for Tyler to exhale, the Wolf ducked to the left, and back again to its right. Tyler jumped to his left hoping to avoid the Wolf, but instead found his right arm caught in the massive jaws of the Wolf, with the momentum forcing him down to the ground.
At that moment, Tyler thought of nothing else but breaking free. He dragged beside the Wolf, wrapping his arm around its neck, trying to get it to let go of his arm, as it shook its head fiercely from side to side. The Wolf bucked up and down furiously as if trying to tear his arm off, all the while never loosening its grip. It seemed to Tyler he would fight with the Wolf forever.
Then, he heard a gunshot, and everything stopped.
He found himself tumbling away from the beast, rolling onto the snow, and down the hill. Andreas chased after him, jumped down, and grabbed his arm, causing the pain to finally register. Tyler yelled again at the pain as he felt the blood rush up his arm, but he also noticed another sound, a shriek that seemed to rattle the earth and sky.
He looked up the hill and saw the Wolf, struggling in place. There with him at the base of the hill, he saw Andreas holding on to his arm. Both of them collapsed on the snow, unable to move.
Tyler looked at Andreas, "You got him, Andy!" he said.
Andreas smiled, and then both turned to look atop the hill.
The Wolf could barely stand as it looked at them; it supported itself on shaking legs as it let out a cry of pain. They saw where Andreas landed his shot, right in the Wolf's heart. Its head hung low as its black fur seemed to be blowing away like leaves in the wind. With determination, it closed its eyes, reared itself, the let out one final howl. The boys looked on in amazement at both the sight and sound. It continued to howl as its body seemed to come undone around its heart, falling to pieces and blowing away on the wind. Finally, they watched as what remained of the Fenris Wolf blew away and disappeared into the cloudless night.
* * *
A few weeks later, back at Dahl's Caf?, half the town sat enjoying meals, warm beverages, and visiting the Dahl family. This evening, however, Grandpa Ragnar was not telling stories. He sat in the back row behind the children as Tyler and Andreas sat up front.
A couple dozen eager faces looked at them as one of the children said, "Tell us about how you beat the Fenris Wolf!"
With that, the boys turned to each other and began to tell their story. Andreas bared his chest to show the scratches the Wolf left on him. Jaws dropped, and sounds of admiration echoed through the room. Tyler told them of his battle with the Wolf, wrestling with it as it held him by his hand. He held up the cast of the hand that, one day soon, he would be able to use again. Voices in the room shouted their approval.
"Is all of that true?" asked a young girl, one of their younger cousins.
"Yeah, is that for real?"
&n
bsp; Both of them looked to their Grandfather, who said nothing. He just gave them a wink and a proud smile as he listened to them tell their story.
Mister Grinn
Will looked through the church parking lot, which was, at the moment, the site of the church's annual sale. Tables stretched out across the lot, carrying dishes, tools, toys, clothing, anything donated to give the church some extra money. Will and his friends found nothing of interest.
"God, this is boring," said his friend Nick, looking through old and withered baseball cards, "Why are we even here?"
His friend Steven walked toward them holding a fireplace poker like a sword, "You always find something good at these things." He held the poker like a fencing saber and started stabbing an invisible enemy. This earned him a dirty look from the pastor's wife.
"Don't get us kicked out of this place," said Will, looking through a stack of paintings that smelled like mold.
"It's a church, they can't kick me out."
As Will flipped through the paintings, the last one in the stack caught his attention. When he saw it, he almost gasped.
The painting was well detailed and very realistic, almost looking like a photograph. It showed a man in a suit from his shoulders up. His suit was neat and clean, his hair was styled, and his eyes were brown and dark. Nothing about the man seemed out of the ordinary, with one exception. The man had no mouth. Instead, it looked as though someone had taken a piece of string, and sewed a mouth onto where it should have been, making a crude, artificial grin.
"What the hell?"
Will picked up the painting and looked at the frame. It was old and dusty, as though it had been in an attic for years. On the bottom of the frame was a small plaque with an engraving.
Mister Grinn
He never took his eyes off the image as he turned his head toward his friends.
"Guys, check this out."
Nick and Steven walked up behind him and reacted in much the same way at the sight of the painting.
"What the hell?" asked Steven.
"That's what I said."
"That is messed up," said Nick, "It's not real, is it?"
"Of course it's not real, you idiot, it's just a painting."
"It looks just like a picture."
"Who looks like that in real life?"
"Guys! Shut up!" Will exclaimed. He checked painting from every angle.
"Are your really going to buy that thing, Will?" asked Steven.
"I? I don't know."
"You should hang it up on your wall," said Nick, with a mocking tone in his voice, "It'll impress the girls."
"Shut your trap," said Will, turning to Nick, "I'm not spending the night with this thing watching me."
Steven nudged Will, "It freaks you out, doesn't it? You're scared of the guy, aren't you?"
Will shook his head in frustration. The day had gone exactly as he thought it would; he and his friends went out in the morning, and by the afternoon were arguing and fighting one another. He was tired of going through the same routine every day during summer vacation. He wanted more than anything to prove something to them. What it was, he wasn't sure.
"I'm not scared," he said, taking the painting under his arm, "you want me to sleep with this thing on my wall, I'll do it."
Nick and Steven exchanged surprised looks.
"The whole freaking night?" asked Nick.
"The whole freaking night."
"No cheating?" asked Steven.
"No cheating."
A minute later, he paid the pastor's wife for the painting. She gave him a confused look when she saw the painting, but was grateful for both the ten dollars, and seeing three delinquent boys leave the sale. She had other customers to deal with. The boys took their bikes and rode back to their homes.
* * *
That night, Will excused himself from the table, leaving his parents downstairs to watch TV. He went up to his room, closed the door, and then took out the painting from his closet. The sun was setting at this point, and in the low lighting, the painting seemed somehow more realistic. He never thought about Mister Grinn's eyes until just now; they seemed to be watching him.
"No cheating," he said out loud.
Next to his bed was a painting of a young boy, playing ball with his dog-some decoration his mother purchased when he was a baby. He took the painting down and put the painting of Mister Grinn up. He stepped back, noticing that the image seemed to be looking out into the room. A chill went down Will's spine, but he shook it off.
After a few hours, he put on his pajamas and tucked himself into bed. He looked at his alarm clock.
11:15 p.m.
Will closed his eyes. He was asleep in just a couple minutes.
* * *
Will dreamed he was in a classroom at school. But something was very wrong. It was dark, like a black fog was in the room. He looked around, and saw his classmates, sitting completely still in their desks, facing downward. Then, he heard the scratching of chalk against a chalkboard. He looked up and saw his teacher, writing something on the board he couldn't read. She moved quickly, in a way that seemed more like a twitch, writing fast, inhumanly fast. When she finished, she turned around.
Will saw that she had no face.
He shrieked. The students in the class all turned to him. They also had no faces.
His heart dropped, he got up and ran out of the classroom, out into the hallway. The same black fog filled the hall. He turned to the far side of the hall. The window was there, the light from outside glaring bright. In front of the window was a man. He wore a suit. Will felt himself getting closer and closer to the man. Before he could see his face, he woke with a start.
* * *
The room was dark and quiet. Will gasped and wiped sweat from his forehead. He looked at his alarm clock.
12:20 a.m.
He turned to the other wall.
Mister Grinn was still there, looking down on him, with his demented smile.
Will felt fear rising up in his chest as he lay back down, turning from the painting. He closed his eyes tight, trying to forget it was there. Within minutes, he fell back to sleep.
* * *
Will found himself on a long road out in the desert. Above him, clouds passed by quickly, as though the day were rushing by. The desert and the sky changed colors, from red, to white, to purple, to black, going through a constant change. Will ran down the road, but felt as though he were running in slow motion. He turned around. Off in the distance, too far to make out any features, a man in a suit stood watching him.
Fear welled up in his stomach as he turned and kept running. He ran towards a town off in the distance, a town that would not get any closer. He turned again. The man was closer. His hands were in his pockets.
When he turned to keep running, the town seemed even further. He called for help, but no sound left his mouth. The clouds above him became more and more fierce, as though a storm were brewing. He turned one last time.
The man was there, standing above him. His hands were covered with blood. When he looked up at his face, Will shrieked. It was the face of Mister Grinn.
* * *
Will shot up in his bed, finding that the scream had stopped in his throat. He breathed heavy, as though he'd just run a mile. He looked outside and then turned to look at the painting.
Just like before, the painting of Mister Grinn stared at him, with his twisted smile.
Will shook, as he turned to look at the clock.
1:04 a.m.
"One-oh-four?" asked Will out loud, "That's it?" It already felt as though the night had gone on for ages. He looked out the window and saw the stars and the moon up in the sky.
Will turned to the painting of Mister Grinn.
"If it happens again," he said to the painting, "You're going down."
He fought the urge to cry as he laid his head back down.
* * *
It was S
teven and Nick, in a dark room. It must have been a basement. They moved as though they were underwater. Will noticed their faces. They had mouths and noses, but no eyes. Surprisingly, Will found himself not screaming. They held up a painting.
"No cheating," they said in a low, droning voice.
Will looked at the painting. The face looked just like his; the same nose, eyes, and hair.
But the mouth?
* * *
Will's eyes shot open. He looked up at the clock.
1:22 a.m.
Will pulled the blanket up over his head and let a few tears run down his cheek.
"God, damn?"
He just lay on the bed, shaking, wondering why he was doing this to himself.
You're being an idiot. You're scaring yourself. Just take the damn thing down if it scares you so much. You've got nothing to prove.
The coaxing didn't work. He looked up from the covers over at the painting. Its eyes seemed to have changed; they seemed to look right down at him.
Will looked, but only for a moment. Then, he turned away, put his head down on the pillow, and closed his eyes tight. He slept.
* * *
Breathing.
All he heard was the sound of breathing. He looked around where he was standing. It was a forest; foggy, dark, dead. The sound of the wind blew through the dead branches. It was night, but there were no stars and no moon.
The breathing had a voice.
"It's? easy?"
Will looked around, feeling frozen in place.
"Being? brave. It's? easy. In? the? daylight? Isn't it?"
Will turned and looked up.
He found himself looking into the face of Mister Grinn. He was fifteen, twenty feet tall, and looked down on him like a bird of prey.
The mouth, or what could be called a mouth, opened up. It tore open, like flesh being ripped apart. Down in his mouth was nothing but blackness. Will shrieked-he heard himself this time, as Mister Grinn swallowed him whole.
* * *
Will woke up.
He didn't get up or look over at the clock. Instead, he looked out the window. There was no moon and no stars.
But there was something else in his room.
Breathing.
In the room, there was the familiar sound of someone breathing heavily.
He turned his head, slightly, toward the painting.
Will saw Mister Grinn.
Standing in the room.
Right above him, his artificial smile drawn over him.
Will froze. He couldn't scream, he couldn't run, he could only lie in his bed, frozen with fear he didn't think possible.