The Forest Where Monsters Live - Chapter 8
8. Flames
"Crash—!"
"Ugh!"
The door flung open violently, sending Benjamin stumbling backward before he collapsed.
"Benjamin!"
Johann's voice was frantic as he saw Benjamin collapse. His head and shoulders were caked with snow.
"Benjamin!"
As Johan reached down to pull Benjamin up, his eyes met Letitia's—she sat by the fireplace, watching him coldly.
"You...!"
Johann released Benjamin and charged at Letitia, his face contorted with fury.
"You filthy wench!"
He seized her by the collar, hand raised to strike.
"Agh!"
Letitia reacted instantly, biting down hard on Johann's arm.
"You crazy bit¢h!"
Johann shoved her away violently.
"Ah!"
Letitia crashed into the corner but scrambled back up, her eyes blazing with defiance.
She refused to suffer at his hands any longer.
Benjamin was right.
She could accept that they were all victims—that neither she nor Johann had chosen to become monsters, but had been forced into it.
But understanding didn't change reality.
Johann hated her. He would kill her here and now if he could.
She saw the murderous intent in his eyes.
She had no intention of dying for him.
If she was a victim too, why should she die for his sake?
She didn’t want to die.
She wanted to fight for that chance Benjamin spoke of—the chance to struggle toward a new life.
She wouldn’t die here.
She wouldn’t be dragged back to the estate to suffer his abuse.
And she sure as hell wouldn’t spend the rest of her life as a plaything for men in some brothel, just because Johann willed it.
"You fu¢king bastard! Die—!"
She thrust her hand into the fireplace, grabbed a burning log, and swung it at him.
"Ugh!"
The flaming wood grazed Johann’s head as he lunged for her throat.
The searing pain made him recoil, clutching his head as he stumbled sideways.
Without even feeling the burn on her palm, Letitia bolted up and sprinted for the open door.
She knew the difference in their strength.
If she’d had a knife, she would have stabbed him right then.
But she was unarmed.
Running was her only option.
She fled into the raging blizzard outside.
The moment she escaped, Johann staggered to his feet.
"Le—ti—sha—!"
His roar of fury shook the cabin as he charged after her.
The door rattled violently in the storm behind them.
Inside, Benjamin lay motionless on the floor, his body twitching weakly.
His already frail body had been pushed to its limit—dragging the carriage through the snow, enduring the cold until he could barely stand.
The impact of the door had been enough to knock him unconscious.
And then, just a short distance from where he lay, flames erupted.
The burning log Letitia had swung had rolled into the corner—igniting the old curtains by the window.
Fire licked up the fabric, spreading slowly through the cabin.
And beneath the growing inferno, Benjamin lay helpless, lost to the world.
***
Johann pulled a pistol from his waistband as he chased Letitia through the blizzard.
The gun he always carried now felt heavy in his hand as he squinted through the swirling snow and pulled the trigger.
"Bang—!"
The gunshot tore through the howling wind.
Johann ran forward, his boots sinking into the deep snow with each step.
No blood.
He'd missed.
"You think you can escape?"
He fired again at the faint silhouette stumbling through the storm.
"Bang!"
This time, the figure staggered and fell.
"Got you!"
Certain he'd hit her, Johann charged forward.
There, in the snow, Letitia knelt, blood spreading across her shoulder.
The bullet had gone clean through.
Crimson dripped onto the white ground beneath her.
"Damn you, Leticia..."
Johann pressed the barrel of the gun to her forehead.
His breath came in ragged bursts.
"Should I just end it here? Do you really think anyone would care if I buried you in this snow? Is there even a single soul who'd come looking for you?"
"There is."
Leticia glared up at him, her eyes blazing.
The old her would have despaired. She would have believed no one would mourn her.
But not now.
She knew—there was one.
One person who would weep for her.
One person who remembered her.
Benjamin Hildesheim.
The man who had smiled and said, "I'm glad I got to see you again."
He would cry for her.
Just one.
But that was enough.
Maybe that was why she had come back—just to hear those words.
Just to meet someone who would look at her like that.
"Benjamin will cry for me."
"You're insane—"
Johann started to sneer, but then he noticed—
Leticia wasn't looking at him anymore.
Her gaze was fixed behind him, her pupils dilating.
"What...?"
A chill ran down his spine.
He turned.
His reflection in Leticia's eyes turned red.
The cabin was on fire.
"Ben—"
The pistol slipped from Johann's fingers.
Benjamin was still inside.
"Benjamin—!"
Johann sprinted back the way he'd come.
The cabin roared with flames, the heat blistering even from a distance.
"Benjamin! Brother—!"
Johann skidded to a stop at the edge of the inferno.
His hands shook.
His legs shook.
This fire—it was just like the one thirteen years ago.
At least, to his eyes, it was identical.
The same flames that had swallowed his father.
The same flames that had scarred Benjamin forever.
"Ah—"
Johann's face went pale as he collapsed to his knees in the snow.
He knew Benjamin was in there.
But he couldn't move.
He was terrified.
Terrified of the fire that had taken everything.
The fire that had taken his father.
The fire that had broken his brother.
And now it was happening again.
His body locked up, frozen in place.
Benjamin would have run in without hesitation.
But Johann couldn't.
"Ah... ah..."
Tears streamed down his face.
His twin—the person he loved most—was burning inside, and he couldn't even step forward.
This was his punishment.
His fear of fire—his curse.
"Someone... please..."
Just like back then, when he'd been the one trapped, wrapped in a sheet, screaming—
Someone, please, save me.
Benjamin had held him through the flames.
But now, Johann couldn't do the same.
Someone, please, save him.
"Ugh... ah—"
Then—
"Benjamin—!"
A scream tore through the air as Leticia lunged past him—straight into the fire.
Johann's breath caught as her figure vanished into the flames.
The blaze roared, unrelenting.
Snow continued to fall, an eerie contrast—white against the violent red.
And then—
Movement.
Two figures emerged from the flames.
No, it was one.
Leticia, carrying Benjamin on her back. His arms hung limp, swaying lifelessly with each step she took.
Her own figure was blackened by smoke and flame, her clothes singed, her skin streaked with soot and burns.
A wreck.
But alive.
The moment Johann saw them—alive, breathing—his knees gave out.
He crumpled forward into the snow, pressing his forehead against the frozen ground.
His shoulders shook violently.
A guttural, animalistic sob tore from his throat as he knelt there, broken.
The snow kept falling—white and silent—burying his hunched form, his trembling back, his bowed head.
As if trying to erase everything.
As if trying to cover all the pain, the guilt, the fire and blood.
The snow piled higher.
And higher.
* * *
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