Ethereal Chronicles

In the bleak hours that followed daybreak, a weary father and his young son travelled home on horseback after a long day of berry-picking in the woods. A thick blanket of mist had settled over the moors, casting a ghostly veil across the landscape, while a bitter chill seeped through the boy’s worn, scruffy clothes.

Elias felt the soft tremor of his son’s fragile body against his own battered frame. “Perhaps, by the end of the week, I can get those garments fixed.” Elias said, the lie bitter in his mouth, knowing all too well that he could scarcely scrape enough to place food upon their table.

The little one, Ben, said nothing, but his tiny hands tightened their grip about his father’s waist. Ten minutes or so passed, and they rode in silence, but the boy’s senses increasingly prickled with the sensation of being watched. Blinking, he turned his head to glance back, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the swirly fog.

Behind them, walking slowly, was a slender, strangely beautiful man, his skin pale and transparent. Eyes gleamed from his face like stars too close to earth, and his smile, too perfect to be real, invited those who beheld it. The stranger halted, his movements unnervingly smooth, but the moment Ben’s back was turned once more he felt the man’s icy breath upon his neck.

“How would you like to have some warmer clothes?” The man whispered, his voice velvety, lined with a strange sweetness.

Ben looked back again, more sharply this time, and saw the man walking even closer, holding in his outstretched hand the fluffiest coat Ben had ever seen. Along with the coat came a gaze so warm, so full of love he wanted to bathe every worry in it. But no, Ben knew better than to take something from a stranger. So he turned his back in response, refusing the gift without a word.

“What is it?” Elias said, his gaze unwavering from the route ahead. “You’re fidgeting.”

Ben swallowed hard. “There’s…there’s a strange man following us.” He murmured, the attempted insistence in his tone failing, since the words sounded so ridiculous said aloud.

“What?” Elias jerked the reins harshly, bringing the horse to an abrupt halt before casting an anxious glance about him. But his eyes met only endless fog, swirling lazily. There was no sign of life, no movement, nothing to indicate something amiss. “You’re playing games again.” He said, his exasperation undisguised. “I’ll hear no more of it.”

Ben said nothing, simply burying his face into the warm fabric of his father’s coat. He would not speak to the white man anymore.

Yet, as the horse resumed its pace, Ben felt it again – an unpleasant, whispering breath against his neck. Cold, ghostly fingers pressed down on his shoulders, and the man, brighter than ever, peeked around the side of Ben’s face, glaring into him with hollowed eyes as a long, wicked smile twisted his face.

“If you don’t take the coat, I will kill you.”

“Father!” Ben cried, jolting so sharply with fear that he almost toppled off the horse. As he clung desperately to Elias, a chilling laugh echoed through the mist. “He’s here!”

“Stop it, son.” Elias snapped, weary from the day’s hard work and the quiet dread of tomorrow. “Be still. We’ll be home soon. Stop all this fuss now, before you fall and hurt yourself.”

Ben pursed his wobbling lips, shutting his eyes as tightly as possible. But no amount of blindness could wash the feeling of the thing clinging to his body, its cold weight draped over his shoulders. It urged him over and over with soft words, coaxing him with a sweetness that was so comforting, had he not seen its face he might have allowed it to take him.

By the time they arrived home, the night was pitch black. Elias placed his hands upon his son’s iron grip, attempting to release it. “Ben, your hands are so cold!”, he gasped.

To this, he was met with no response. With too much effort, Elias finally pried the icy fingers loose. The moment he did so, his son’s body toppled lifelessly to the ground with a dull thud, his eyes frozen open in terror.

Erlking is an evil Faery in Germanic folklore.

APPEARANCE AND ATTRIBUTES

The Erlking, often manifesting as a comfort to those who behold it, can appear as anything it desires, though most forms it initially takes are those conveying otherworldly beauty. This perfection, however, does not last for long; the longer an Erlking is refused, the more ghastly its appearance becomes, until it is no longer a comfort but a nightmare.

An Erlking often targets children with sweet words, offering the promise of love and comfort. But its words, however pleasant, are tinged with evil.

The moment a child gives into this alluring promise, whatever it may be, the Erlking snatches their lifeforce away, killing them almost instantly.