Gone

"Seven Hells," Castor said, kicking the doorframe of the empty cabin in frustration. "This is bad. This is really bad."

"Why don't you sit down?" A warm hand found its way to his shoulder. Castor turned to look at Roman O'Conner but couldn't bear the concern etched onto his face.

Roman had been the elected sheriff of the town for the past three years, and though he was quite young for the position, he was good at it. He had a levelheaded personality, rock solid morals, and one of those faces that you just couldn't help but trust. Castor could tell Roman was about to talk him off a ledge, like he always managed to, but in that moment, Castor only wanted to leap over the edge.

"I can't," he told the man, the hand slipping off of his shoulder as he started to pace. "You don't understand. This whole situation is so twisted and fucked that even I can't fully understand it."

With a brief jerk of his head, Roman gestured for the men that had accompanied them to head back to town. It was only a few moments before the only horses left in sight were their own.

"Castor," Roman sighed, "I've known you for years. I know you care about Wesley, but I can't help if you don't tell me what's going on."

"You wouldn't believe me if I did," Castor said, feeling like he was going insane.

"Try me," Roman said, sweeping a few locks of blonde hair out of his eyes.

Castor's brown eyes locked onto a pair of green ones. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Only if you promise not to lock me up because you think I've gone crazy."

"Cross my heart," Roman said, swiping his finger quickly in a crisscross pattern across his chest.

"Fine," Castor huffed, his eyes flitting around as he wondered where to begin. "Remember when I came to you to report an act of piracy a few months back?"

"Vividly," Roman said, a small smirk starting to tug at the corner of his lip, "You were quite the spectacle."

"Well my captain gave up his freedom in exchange for ours because that sick pirate wanted him. I didn't know exactly what for. Maybe to sell into slavery. Maybe as a whore. Maybe to torture for fun until he died of his wounds. For a long time after the raid, I feared he was dead. But a part of me also hoped he was dead, because death seemed like a much better alternative to the scenarios my mind conjured."

Roman nodded his head in understanding, watching as Castor continued to pace. It was information he already knew, because of Castor's initial report of the crime, but he patiently listened to the man recount it.

"I guess at some point I actually started to believe that, because when he turned up, alive, at my townhouse I was beyond surprised. I thought I was dreaming or something. Seeing a ghost maybe. Gods, he looked like he'd walked through all seven Hells and discovered an eighth when he knocked on my door. He didn't talk much, and I didn't blame him. I could tell there was trauma, but I didn't dare ask him about it. All he ever told me was that the pirate was dead."

Castor ran his hands through his hair anxiously, avoiding the gaze of the taller man as he continued.

"Wes was in a really bad place then. I thought maybe he'd bounce back once life returned to normal, but the more time passed, the worse he seemed to get. He started drinking in excess, and on some of the nights he can't remember, he said some things to me that I couldn't just ignore. He kept talking about death and dying. Like a part of him was already dead and the rest just wanted to follow. I was really worried about him, so I checked on him every day, sometimes multiple times a day, to make sure he was eating and that he hadn't followed through with those thoughts. Then when he disappeared, I lost my mind."

"I remember that, too," Roman nodded solemnly, recalling when Castor had frantically come in to report Wesley was missing and to request help in finding him earlier that week.

"When he finally reappeared, the craziest things happened. He seemed almost back to his normal self when I talked to him. He seemed happier and alive again. It was out of the blue, but I was hopeful he'd finally broken out of that dark spell, because honestly, that shite terrified me and I had no idea how to fix it myself. I thought things were alright again, but then I found him with that bloody pirate. The one that was supposed to be dead. I didn't understand at first, but when I tried to do something about it, something. . . unexplainable happened."

Roman was listening intently, though there was a glint of worry hidden in his eyes.

"He bloody sang to me and it was... it was like magic. This. . . this curse wrapped around me and I lost all control of my body. I was still conscious but I wasn't in control. He was. Anything he told me to do, my body would do it. It was terrifying. He sent me home and I couldn't resist the order. I had to leave Wesley with that monster. I regained control of myself the next morning and immediately went back to look for Wesley, but they were gone. I figured that snake took him back to whatever hole they'd been in when Wesley went missing the first time so I started asking around to see if any of the townspeople recognized the horse he'd been using. That led me to Cornelius down the road. He knew Wesley and I from some trade deals, so it wasn't a big deal for him to tell me where Wesley had been staying. That's what led me here, but now that pirate has taken him somewhere else and I have no idea where to find him or how to help him. I'm almost certain he's under the same spell I was put under, but even if I can get to him and get that spell to wear off, he'll just sink back into the darkness and I don't know how to help that either."

Castor wanted to scream, though he knew it wouldn't help the situation.

"This whole thing just isn't fair! Wesley is such a good guy. He always looked out for all of us and would always help us in times of need. But now that he's the one in need I can't do shite."

Roman swallowed thickly as his eyes strayed to something behind Castor, something that was now illuminated by the start of the sunrise. "Does this pirate have any solid reason to keep Wesley alive?"

Castor shrugged. "Entertainment? I don't know. Honestly it's a miracle he's stayed alive this long."

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Roman said, "but that there appears to be a freshly filled grave."

Castor whipped around faster than his heart could beat, his eyes latching onto the rectangular patch of earth.

"No," he murmured. "No, that. . . that can't be him."

"It's unmarked," Roman said, walking closer to it.

"No, it can't be," his voice was thick and practically a whisper at that point.

Roman spotted a spade leaning against a tree trunk not far away. He swallowed again to get rid of the uncomfortable lump forming in his throat.

"I'm going to dig it up," he announced to Castor, not looking anywhere near his eyes. "If someone in this town has died, I'd like to know about it."

"I-I'll help," Castor said.

The pair spent most of the morning digging, and by the time they reached what they were looking for, Castor was mortified.

"That's. . . That's the. . ." Castor said as they uncovered a portion of the skeletal ribcage. "That's the key he wore around his neck."

Castor eyed the artifact that was protruding gruesomely from the skeleton's sternum. His whole mind went so numb that he could barely register the smell.

"It's him," he said.

"No it's not," Roman countered as he freed more bones and rotted flesh from the dirt. "This body is far too old and decomposed to be Wesley's given that you saw him just a couple days ago. I don't know who this is, but I'd guess they've probably been dead for a few weeks, maybe even months."

Castor released a breath of relief. There was a chance Wesley was still alive. But then, none of that explained why the key he'd been carrying was lodged into the corpse. Had Wesley killed this person?

Against his better judgement, Castor reached down and wrapped his fingers around the odd ivory key. He yanked, and the object released with an unpleasant crunching sound. However just as the artifact left the body's ribcage, something else unexplainable happened.

Castor's vision went completely black, but it wasn't because he closed his eyes. No, this darkness was like smoke and it rushed past him with blinding speed. Castor dropped the key and fell backward because of the force of the entity leaving the corpse.

When he could see again only seconds later, he turned just in time to see the black mist shoot into the waves.

"What in Seven Hells was that?" he asked, out of breath.

"I don't know," Roman said in near equal awe, "but I've read a few books on magical occurrences in our world, and from your earlier descriptions, I have a feeling we might be dealing with a magic wielding siren."

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A/N

Slightly longer chapter this time. What did you think of the Castor centric POV? What do you think that entity is? What do you think is going to happen?

Happy Monday,

-Mora Montgomery