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It was Wilhelm’s first week at Hillerska, and he was suffering from a bad bout of insomnia. Maybe it was the new setting, maybe it was the events that led him there. Either way, sleep would not be coming to him easily, and staring at his ceiling was getting rather boring. He missed Erik. He knew it had only been a few days since his brother had left him, but it felt like so much more. The ache inside his chest made him feel like he had been left alone for years, not days. With a frustrated groan, he rolled out of bed and shrugged on a hoodie, then a jacket. It was getting colder out now, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d need to walk around the school’s campus until he was tired and guaranteed at least five hours of sleep. Pulling on shoes and a hat, he slipped out of his room, quietly closing the door behind him. The lights in the hall remained on, as they always did, illuminating the scratchy grey carpet of the dormitory halls.
The moment he stepped outside the brisk wind curled around him, and for a moment he considered going back to get gloves. It wasn’t that bad though, not really, and maybe walking around in the cold would tire him out faster. Maybe not- maybe it would keep him awake, even- but he hoped that the prospect of curling up beneath his warm covers would be enough to coerce his body and mind into the sleep that he so desperately needed.
The night was still, as nights often were. The little light that the full moon provided was silver, washing the pavement in front of him in a weird glow, reflecting off the puddles from the rain that fell earlier in the day. He stepped on a leaf, disappointed when it softened silently beneath his boot. After everything, the very least the universe could offer him was a satisfying crunch of a leaf underfoot. His breath came out in visible puffs, and he played a game he used to play when he was younger. Wilhelm stopped walking and gave a deep exhale, watching the wispy cloud for as long as he could before it disappeared. A rabbit, he decided. His breath had come out in the shape of a rabbit.
He remembered playing that game when he was on press events with his parents in the outdoors. His mother would always nudge him when she noticed, trying to get him to stop, and when he wouldn’t, his father would squeeze his shoulder. He never stopped though, not until Erik gave him a wink. That was Erik’s way of telling him to be good, that if they got through this, then they could play games later. It was the only way to get Wilhelm to listen.
Wille didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he actually liked Erik- and it wasn’t that he didn’t love his parents; he did. He just didn’t like them. Sometimes they seemed more like the king and queen than his mom and dad. Selfish as it was, Wilhelm didn’t like sharing his parents with the country, even when he knew the country came first, always. It stung, but when something stings enough, eventually it dulls into a faint ache.
Before he knew it, he was in the forest. It was darker here, no longer bathed in silver. Instead, patches of moonlight slipped in through the trees, casting odd shadows. Occasionally he heard a rustle, but knew it was nothing more than a rabbit, maybe a deer. There was nothing to fear here. It was calming, actually. Silent. The noise in his head had quieted, at least, and that was more than he had expected. He dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, letting out another exhale. A palm tree, this time. All was silent except for the crunch of sticks and leaves beneath his boots and his steady breathing.
All was silent, until it wasn’t.
There was an inhuman screech to his left, and the hair on the back of his neck rose. Wille’s head swiveled to the side, his eyes widening as he froze. People always talked about fight or flight in moments like these, but not for Wilhelm. Everything in him froze; everything in him screamed at him not to move. Maybe it was just some foxes fighting- he knew they made atrocious noises like that. The air had stilled long enough for Wille to question whether he had imagined it all up to begin with. Sucking in a deep breath, he moved to turn around and head back to his room. There was another noise, though. Not a screech- not quite to that level- but the sound of struggle. Wille shouldn’t have been interested, but he was.
He should turn around and go home. There were alarms blaring in his head, every instinct he had telling him not to bother whatever was happening fifteen meters off the path.
With only a moment of hesitation, he stepped off of the worn dirt path. It was darker here, in the places where the moonlight didn’t reach. There was another screech, another grunt. Goosebumps rose on his arms that had nothing to do with the cold. He kept walking, ignoring his brain’s protests. He was never good at following directions, anyway.
He finally stopped when he entered a clearing. Clearing was a generous word for it; it was just a small area lacking trees. In this area, he only saw one person. They were moving quickly, almost as if dodging something. What, Wille didn’t know. It looked like they were alone. He took a hurried step back as the boy was thrown against the tree in front of him, a surprised gasp escaping him. It was too dark to see much, but he saw moonlight glinting off of dark curls, then off the blade in the boy’s hand.
The boy didn’t pay him any mind, instead rolling to his feet and brandishing the knife. Leaves fell from where they had stuck to his jeans and sweater, but the mud clung to the fabric. It didn’t seem like there was anything else in the clearing besides the two boys, but then the boy was stumbling back again, three slashes of red blooming across his shoulder. He recovered quickly, lunging forward. He sunk his knife into the air, but instead of the knife driving itself into the ground as Wilhelm expected, it caught midair. The boy was entirely off the ground now, driving this knife into something Wille couldn’t see. He knew he should leave, knew he shouldn’t be there, but he was entranced. The boy moved smoothly, confidently, even with the rip in shoulder and the blood dripping from the cut on his cheek.
Wille watched with barely subdued horror as a creature materialized beneath the knife, all grey skin and sharp teeth. It was short and vaguely humanoid, with a hunched back, sagging skin, and long claws, and something about it was so distinctly wrong. Its yellow eyes glowed in the dark, leathery black lips rolled back to expose obsidian gums and yellowing teeth. The boy’s nose scrunched as he was hit with the nauseating smell of the monster’s breath. Wille caught a whiff from where he stood three meters away, and even the faintest trace of rotting flesh and stale blood was enough to make his head spin. The boy dug the knife in deeper into its back, and the monster began to dissolve into powdery dust. Its angry, unearthly cries began to fade, and after a long moment, there was nothing.
The silence wasn’t peaceful now; it was oppressive.
“What was that?” Wille asked once the silence had gone on too long. The boy was kneeling on the forest floor now, the knife still in his hand. The dusty remains of that monster were nowhere to be seen, scattered over the wet leaves that carpeted the forest floor.
“Something you shouldn’t have seen.” He answered, and his voice was oddly familiar, even though Wille couldn’t place it.
“Well… I did.” He said, staring at the air that used to be inhabited by a snarling beast. The boy finally stood, wiping blood off the blade on his jeans before sheathing it at his hip.
“Unfortunately.” He said with a sigh, finally looking up at Wille. He was a bit shorter, and the way the moon caught in his dark eyes sent Wilhelm’s nerves into a frenzy. He walked over to stand in front of Wilhelm, sizing him up. “You shouldn’t be out here. It’s dangerous.”
Wilhelm had no clue how dangerous these woods were until he stumbled across a demon and the boy who slew it. “I needed some air.”
The strange boy forced out a humorless laugh. “Don’t we all?” He asked, heading back to the path. Wilhelm followed; he didn’t want to be caught in the woods alone.
“What was that?” He asked again, once they were back on the path. The chill had returned and he was shivering now, though it was more than the cold that caused him to tremble. He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see red eyes glowering at him from the dark brush.
“Pixie.” The boy answered, now holding his sleeve to his bleeding cheek. His other hand patted at the ripped fabric of his jacket and shirt, grimacing as he felt the tear and the shallow cuts.
“Pixie.” Wille repeated. “Right. Pixie. I thought… I thought pixies were good.” He thought pixies weren’t real, but there was no explanation for what he had witnessed.
“Only in the movies.” He was told. “Real pixies are vicious, ready to kill. Dangerous.”
“It was invisible.”
“One of their powers. It takes a lot of energy. That’s why we were able to see it as it died.”
Wilhelm ran a rushed hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. “You killed it.”
“Someone had to, and it didn’t look like it was going to be you.”
“I’m confused.”
“Good. Forget everything you saw tonight.” He stopped walking, turning to face Wilhelm. The lighting was better here; Wille definitely knew him.
“Simon.” He said, blinking. Simon was quiet, studious. He talked to his sister, and he didn’t have many friends. That’s what August had told him, at least, and in his week at Hillerska, Wille hadn’t seen anything to dispute that.
Simon scowled. “Forget everything.” He repeated. “Nobody can know. Nobody can find out. Not the cops, not your friends, not your cousin, not your parents. Nobody.”
“My parents-”
“Have no clue about this. And it will stay that way. Everything is under control. Go home, go to sleep. Maybe in the morning this will all feel like a dream.” He turned on his heel and kept walking back to the dormitories. Wilhelm was left there for a moment before he hurried to catch up.
“Isn’t there something they can do? My father is the king.”
“Kings can’t control monsters, Wilhelm.”
“There has to be something.”
“There isn’t.”
They fell into an uneasy silence, nothing but the sound of the mud beneath their boots filling the night. Wilhelm supposed that was better than the screeches of beasts unknown to him. He couldn’t keep himself from glancing over at Simon as they walked, though Simon never met his eyes. They were quiet up until the door going into Wilhelm’s dormitory.
“Is that it?” Wille asked quietly. After such an earthshattering discovery, it felt wrong to simply go back to his room and try to sleep.
“Is what it?” Simon asked, looking at him. The moon shone even brighter on them now, washing Simon in silver. He looked like a prince, a god. Ethereal.
“...this.”
“There is no this . You saw something you weren’t supposed to and now you are going to go to sleep and forget it all.”
“I can’t forget this.”
“Well, try. And don’t tell a soul. Nothing good will come from that.” His words sounded innocent enough, but it was a veiled threat. Wilhelm just gave a slight nod.
“Yeah. Alright.” He said. Simon gave a nod in return, waiting for Wilhelm to disappear inside before taking his leave.
Wilhelm’s head was spinning even more than before as he made his way back to his room, pushing the door open and closing it behind him. He had left the room searching for peace, for quiet. He returned with quite literally the opposite of that.
The prince fell into bed with a quiet groan, but not before thoroughly checking his rooms for pixies. He knew it wasn’t likely that there was one there- Simon had said they were absurdly violent. If a pixie were in the area, Wilhelm had no doubt that he would be dead by now. Even so, it felt good to check, like he still had some semblance of control.
He shed his layers and slipped back into bed, flicking off the lights and giving a deep, heavy sigh. As he fell into sleep, he dreamt of monsters and moonlight and a boy with dark eyes and soft, curly hair.