Okay y'all... I've been working on this piece little by little for a while now and I have finally finished it!
I believe I mentioned wanting to do Fez in a Wolfman au and I'm pretty excited about this but I'm gonna let y'all decide if I should continue this or not - you guys know what to do.
Hopefully y'all like it 😁
It was a small, round-headed bird.
A rusty cap and rusty eyeline on a gray head, a streaked brown back, and a smooth buff colored breast.
Fezco couldn't remember the exact name specifically, but he was sure it was a type of sparrow.
Hunting as a young boy, his father would point them out and share arbitrary facts about them. For instance, they are insectivores, both male and females were similar in appearance, and they prefer to nest in manmade structures like eaves. His favorite, something he always found fascinating, was that they migrated at night.
He considered himself a creature of the night...even when he was young.
In the distance he could hear the loud whistle of an approaching steam powered locomotive roar and he reluctantly turned his gaze away from the small bird.
He could see thick light gray smoke billow from the locomotive's chimney like a snake slithering its way up towards the menacing clouds above.
It was going to storm. Fitting weather to match his mood...
Fezco glanced at the simple brown leather suitcase next to him, meagerly packed with only the bare essentials. An absurd idea suddenly struck him and panic began to bubble within him.
He should have brought the trunk.
He didn't pack enough and he should have brought the trunk.
He wasn't prepared and he didn't like that. It wasn't like him to not be prepared... everything planned and in order. Of course, under the circumstances...
Fezco had not seen the small town of East Highland in fifteen years...not since his grandmother had taken him in to live with her in the equally small town of Oakland...took him away from the violence that had smothered his early years.
He had not planned on ever returning no matter how much the guilt plagued him...ate at him until he felt there was nothing left but sinew and bone. Fezco loved his brother Ash dearly but his sanity wouldn't allow him to take it any longer.
But now his brother was missing...vanished in the dead of night. He had no choice but to come back and find him...find out what had happened to him.
Paul O'Neil had painted a very straight forward scenario in his letter. Ash had been traveling home to discuss his upcoming nuptials to a Miss Alexandra Howard and never showed.
Alexandra...Lexi he used to call her.
It was hard to fathom her old enough to consider marriage...let alone consider such a thing with his brother Ash. It was even harder to conjure up an image of what she might look like now. Surely no longer nobby kneed and doe eyed as he remembered.
She had painted a slightly more sinister scenario in the letter she had sent.
The elder O'Neil apparently had not been on board with the arrangement between his youngest son and Miss Howard, and the two had succumbed to dueling with vicious words.
Ash, having spoken his peace on the matter, had left that night and purchased a room in town intending to leave the next evening...for good.
In her letter Miss Howard had confessed they had arranged to move to Oakland after the wedding as it was close to Fezco (something Ash had desperately wanted) and her father had promised an adequate job opportunity for Ash after they arrived.
She spoke of Ash's desire to leave...escape his father's violent disposition. Fezco already knew this...knew all too well.
But his father had reached out that morning, luring Ash back.
This could have been prevented if he had just stayed - he wished he had stayed...been old enough, strong enough to defend himself and his brother from their father's temper...
He had barely been fourteen when he left, and hardly fit to fight someone of his father's size then. And at the time the law would not permit Ash, being of such a young age, to leave with him and his grandmother. And with no concrete proof of wrong doing...
Now it may be too late...
The locomotive screeched to a stop, the loud mechanical gears were almost deafening as it passed him, a harsh gust of air trailing after it.
Fezco swallowed thickly as he picked up his suitcase, the rolling in his stomach continued as he made his way down the pavilion towards where passengers were supposed to board.
A tall, slender gray haired gentleman stepped off the entry step and took a quick look around before calling the passengers to board.
Thankfully there were only a handful of other travelers milling around waiting to board...it would be a quiet trip, he might even get some sleep.
"Last stop. Heading to East highland. Boarding now."
The hair on the back of Fezco's neck sprung to life and his free hand reflexively reached up to soothe the area.
The conductor looked at him with a smile as he approached but his gray eyes were uneasy as they met Fezco's.
Fezco nodded and reached into the pocket of his wool frock coat, pulling out the creased off white piece of paper.
The conductor took the ticket with another strained smile and looked over the details. Satisfied, he handed the ticket back with a quick 'thank you' and 'glad to have you aboard sir'.
Fezco placed the ticket back into his pocket and mumbled a 'thank you' as he stepped up onto the train.
He made his way to the correct cart and quickly found his designated cabin surprised to find an older gentleman of African descent sitting on one of the wooden benches fast asleep when he opened the sliding door.
Fezco quietly slid the door shut with a smooth whoosh followed by a thunk as it latched into place and sat on the opposite bench.
There was no plush upholstery, or ornate decorations in the cabin like in a Pullman, nor carpeted floors or rich wood paneling. Fezco didn't mind though, the trip wasn't but a six hour ride which included three stops before East highland - Bakersfield, Fresno and Modesto. And this certainly wasn't meant to be a leisurely trip.
Fezco situated himself next to the large window and placed his bag underneath his seat. He could feel the cold coming off the glass as he peered out and was thankful the small wood-burning stove near the door was lit. The clouds had grown a bruised purple in color and almost appeared to ripple across the sky like flood water.
"I apologize if I was snoring."
Fezco whipped his head around at the deep voice. The man cleared his throat and adjusted himself a little more upright in the seat.
"You weren't. Sorry if I disturbed your sleep. I just settled in."
"You didn't. The moorish man waved his hand in dismissal. May I ask where you are headed?"
"Of sorts. I lived there as a boy. My father and brother still reside there."
Fezco settled back into his seat avoiding the man's gaze, focusing instead on a rather dark stained cane with an intricately carved head leaning askew between the wall of the cabin and the man's leg, as he felt a familiar chill seep within him.
A pregnant pause lodged itself between the two men as Fezco tried to come up with something to add...something light and less...ominous. Something that would keep this stranger from prying. But, by the way the man's dark eyes squinted and scrutinized him, Fezco knew he wasn't getting off so easily.
"Family troubles I take it?"
Fezco nodded once before glancing down at the cane again.
"This?" The man lifted the cane and turned it in his hand.
"A wolf's head?" Fezco asked, seeing the carving up close.
"Indeed. It was a gift from my daughter. Meant to be some sort of protection against shetani - evil spirits. I do believe she is far too superstitious for one so young, but I indulge her."
"I myself am not a superstitious man, but my mother believed."
"I see." The man's dense eyebrows rose slightly at the revelation.
"And the inscription?" It was a wonder Fezco had not noticed it earlier, the neat silver lettering stood out drastically against the canes dark shaft.
"Ahh yes. It's written in my native tongue - Swahili. It roughly translates to 'Even a man who is pure in heart, and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfsbane blooms, and the moon is full and bright'."
"Protection not just from the outside monsters but from those within. Interesting..." The corner of Fezco's lips inclined.
"My daughter likes to remind me we all struggle with hardships and in those times when it becomes too great we as men are capable of anything...great and terrible, so we must keep to our faith. Remain pure of action and intention and heed the needs of others before ourselves and we shall receive blessings from the Lord."
"Your daughter sounds very wise."
The man lolled the cane in his hands again with a brief smile before glancing up. Fezco met his eyes allowing a small smile to grace his own lips.
"My name is Ali. Ali Orowari." He reached his hand out, his smile widening.
"Fezco O'Neil. Nice to meet you." He grasped the hazelnut colored hand and gave a single shake.
"Well...I dare say it's been a pleasure. When I first saw you I didn't think you'd be up for conversation."
"I wasn't....I'm still not to be honest. But my mood is greatly improved thanks to you."
"Glad to hear it." Ali squinted at Fezco for a breath then smiled again.
Ali ended up falling asleep after a couple more minutes of making small talk. Fezco must have followed suit soon after for he suddenly found himself jolting awake at the sound of a low rumble followed by a loud crack.
Ghostly whispers still lingered in his ears from the dream he had been having...Ash's laughter and his mother's voice...then the growling mixed with screaming.
Fezco rubbed his hands over his face several times, breathing hard. Had that been a dream....or some dreadful memory he couldn't fully shake.
He looked at the bench opposite him and noticed it was now empty and felt a stirring of disappointment. Then he noticed it, the cane leaning against the wall of the cabin. A scrap of paper with his name on it was tied to the grip with a slim piece of black ribbon.
He reached forward and easily untied the ribbon and pulled the paper free. Turning it over Fezco read the neatly scrawled words.
For a new friend. To ward off your troubles.
Fezco huffed, a short rough sound escaping his lips.
He gently lifted the cane into his hands and felt its weight, felt its polished surface before letting his fingers trace over the rough texture of the carved lettering.
He was the proud new owner of an 'amulet' apparently. 'Ward off your troubles', he certainly hoped so...
Thirty-three minutes and twenty-six seconds, that's how long it took to get from the East highland station to O'Neil manor.
The rain poured down in a torrent, saturating the ground till it appeared as if the carriage was driving through thick tar.
Fezco couldn't see any stars in the sky. He could barely make out the shapes of the trees that lined the road, the light from the lanterns on either side of the carriage barely penetrated through darkness.
He thought he could make out the outline of a couple of illuminated windows in the distance, amber eyes glowing in the night, watching him. Suddenly his bones turned to ice within his body and his heart began to race again.
First the outline of the veranda appeared, the four large white posts holding up the hipped roof reminded him of a gapping mouth, and then as the carriage looped around the large fountain in front all two stories of the colonial revival materialized like an apparition. A light gray outline with splotches of barely discernable details.
The carriage came to a halt, the dark bay hackney gave a loud snort as the driver pulled the reins.
"Mr. O'Neil we have arrived."
Taking a deep breath he grabbed the handle with a shaking hand and turned it clockwise.
Stepping out of the carriage he glanced up at his childhood home briefly before turning and grabbing his suitcase and the cane Ali had given him. His knuckles were white as he held each object tightly and with lead feet began to walk up the path to the mansion.
The gravel beneath his feet sounded incredibly loud within his ears, and increased as the carriage started to move. Fezco glanced over his shoulder at the carriage as it quickly disappeared into the dark and shivered.
He made it to the steps and placed a boot clad foot on the first incline. A loud creaking erupted from the step with his weight and followed him as he made his way to the porch. He walked up to the door and sat his suitcase down when the door opened.
A deep, groaning hiss with a heavy thud sounded, accompanied by a low, rasping noise from the hinges. Stale air wafted through the door as it fully swung open and Fezco closed his eyes against the smell.
His eyes opened and he looked up to see a man much older than he ever remembered, but there was no forgetting...
They had the same prominent brows and strong nose. Same red beard and blue eyes too. The resemblance between the two men was uncanny and something Fezco had learned to detest at a very young age.
Ash had always resembled their mother. Olive complexion, dark hair, and wide dark eyes.
Fezco steeled himself as he locked eyes with his father.
"After all these years, it's quite a shock. You've grown into a very handsome specimen."
"Yes it has." The elder O'Neil glanced at the ground before clearing his throat.
"I got your letter...and Miss Howard's. I came as soon as I could." Fezco informed, and he noticed a strange look cross his father's face.
"I'm glad, but...I'm afraid it's not good...most terrible news..."
Fezco's stomach dropped. "What has happened? Has he..."
"I'm afraid your brother was found several days ago along the post road some thirty miles from here."
Fezco thought he had been prepared for such an outcome, something deep within his being, telling him that his brother was gone, but as a numbness spread throughout his body and the cane slipped from his grasp...hearing those words spoken out loud destroyed him.
Ash, his brother, was gone...
