Weresheep Girlfriend: Mary (rough draft)

Sheep have been going missing all over this land. Considering that most of my village makes their money off of livestock and their produce, it’s a very big deal. Even if it wasn’t, missing sheep is usually a sign of something worse, something evil lurking in the woods. For years now, my family has been to blame for this evil. The stress of it killed my mother, and my father is barely hanging on as it is. I’ve been taking care of things as much as possible, but even I suffer from debilitating anguish.

The Peep Farm has been in my family for generations, and before all the ugliness occurred, we had once been known far and wide as having the best sheep and goats in the world. Our sheep had the whitest and fluffiest pelts, our goats produced sublime cheeses and milks. Our lambs and kids were the cutest in the world, and would sell faster than chicks during Spring Festival. Then, it all came crashing down around us when my brother- No. I refuse to talk about it.

In any case, since then, our family’s reputation has fallen to the wayside. We no longer are known for our product, but rather malicious rumors and hatred. People have come wanting to buy our farm from us, but my father refuses. This is all we know, it’s all we have, and even if we did sell, we would get pennies compared to what this farm is worth. One such buyer is Lady Mary, who owns the biggest sheep farm in this countryside.

Lady Mary and I used to be friends; after all, we were both daughters on a sheep farm, so our experiences were similar even if Mary had grown up a bit richer than me. Our friendship seemingly ended, though, when I became engaged to her brother. Mary didn’t take to the engagement; in fact, she got really angry about it. I figured she was worried I was going to take over and try to make her brother fuse our two farms together, or that I was trying to gold dig. Our friendship deteriorated after that. Then after her brother passed away in the war, it became nonexistent and we were practically strangers.

After what happened with my brother, Henry, I am not surprised I never heard from Mary again. In fact, it felt like it gave her just cause to hate my family and wipe our farm off the map. Like she was getting back at me for ever being engaged to her brother at all. She was the most eager out of all the prospective buyers to get our farm, she came by at least once a month to make an offer. It was starting to feel like an attack each time.

She comes by, dresses so pretty in soft colors that shows off her creamy complexion. Her hair is so perfectly coiffed, and she smells so good. She comes to the front door and barters with my father on the front porch, not even bothering to come inside. One day, she comes when my father isn't home, so I am the one to answer the door.

Mary has always been tall and beautiful. She stands over me, looking statuesque, perfect and polished. She smiles as I open the door, wiping my hands on my apron. “Good morning, Bo,” she says with a smirk. “Is your father home?”

“No,” I sigh. “He’s gone out to try and barter to get his shovel repaired. And no, we are not selling the farm to you.”

Mary tilts her head and lets her eyes wander over me. “Listen, Bo, I know you have fallen on hard times, especially since your mother passed away.” She takes a step closer to me and lifts her hand. “At least let me buy some of the land. I know it’s hard to keep up with so much of it, and with it being only the two of you, it must-”

I stop her hand from touching me, holding it firmly in mine. “We’re doing fine. We’re not selling you any property except maybe the shit on it.”

Mary frowns. “I am not trying to be rude, Bo!”

“Well it sure sounds like it to me.” I let go of her hand and she recoils it. Her fingers flitter through her golden locks and she sighs.

“Tell your father I stopped by and that my offer still stands.” She turns off the porch, going up the path towards her buggy.

It is true, ever since the incident with Henry, and especially when my mother passed away, hard times have basically been all we knew. I try my hardest to keep things going, to keep even the meager money we get flowing. I take care of our sheep, but due to everything, the flock is small and few. People keep stealing them from us, even before sheep started vanishing en masse around the whole countryside. Even still, we were the ones to blame for it. But I swear, our family has nothing to do with this. The Peeps’ good name is innocent, this time.

I was making yarn these days, it was about all I could do, and the only thing that seemed to sell from us. The only reason I think it sells, is because I’ve taken the time to dye it, and I have been able to create unique colors. This keeps the farm running, and father and I fed, at least. Even if it stains my hands and arms, and makes my fingers feel brittle, at least we have that.

I take the sheep out first thing, so they can stretch and run and eat until they are content. I’ve had to take them out farther and between the rocky slopes of the mountains as of late. Around lunch I’ll take them back home, hoping I do not pass anyone along the way. On this day, though, something odd occurred. I had left with my twenty sheep, but when we returned, there were twenty-one, and the extra was one I know was not mine. This extra ewe was pitch black and completely overgrown, her coat looked as though it hadn’t been sheered in ages. I had no idea where she came from or when she might have joined my sheep. It seemed as though she had just appeared out of nowhere.

I wasn’t sure what to do; if she belonged to one of the neighboring farms and they found out, it could spell even more trouble for us. But the poor thing looked abandoned, so I decided to give her a sheer and a wash, and feed her some oats. The black wool she gave would make excellent yarn. I had not been able to find anything to dye the yarn this exquisite of a black, and the color had been requested. The poor ewe was quite small without all that wool, so I gave her the oats to eat while I washed her.

“That one won’t bring us any luck,” my father tells me. “I never wanted black sheep here, nor black goats. They’re a sign of wickedness.”

“Who says?” I scold. “We never had black sheep before and look what has become of us! Sin doesn’t come in through color or breed, Father. Sin exists despite it.” I was going to keep that sheep unless I found out it belonged to somebody. In fact, I was becoming quite attached to her already. She followed me around the farm happily, trotting right beside me as I went about my chores. Even when I took the other sheep out to graze, she stayed close to me.

It takes a long time to prepare the wool to make yarn. The skirting of it is my least favorite part as it takes so long. Once I have the black wool skirted, I begin the process of cleaning it, which ever since the press broke, has been quite arduous. I’ve been washing it twice and hanging it out to drip dry to get it as clean as I like it. And since this new wool is so black, I don’t have to dye it at all, and I can move straight to the carding.

It’s during this step I am noticing something a little strange with the black wool. As I am combing it out, I notice that some of the fluffier strands are becoming almost shiny, even metallic, they glimmer in the sunlight. While it does feel like a trick of the eye sometimes, I do notice it more and more as the carding process goes on.

My comb breaks one day while working, which rents my gut apart. I have no other combs to use aside from my hairbrush, and it is not good enough for the wool. I will have to go into town, which frightens me. It means I will also have to use some of the money that my father and I have been trying to save so we can repair some of the broken equipment on the farm like the press and others.

My gut is heavy as I take money from the box, all I need is a comb, and I need it to be able to make yarn. I just hate going into town, people stare and say things under their breath. They also say things out loud, but they don’t bother me as much as the whispers and snarls I cannot hear.

Leaving the farm, the little black sheep trots along beside me, happy as could be. Standing at the gate, I give her a few more pets. “Stay here, alright? I will be right back to finish spinning the wool you gave me.” I rub her face, and whenever I try to pull back, she keeps shoving herself into my palms. “Don’t be silly! I will come back!” I stand up but she keeps chasing after me. “Stay, girl, stay!” I manage to slip out of the gate without her, even then she follows along beside me on the other side of the fence. When she no longer can, she begins to bleat and cry.

In town, I am grateful to not see too many people around, although there are some children playing in the street. I walk by them, feeling unseen and I let my guard down just a little.

“Blow it down! Blow it down!” The children begin to chant.

I take a shaky breath and walk faster away.

“Blow it down! Blow it down!” The children continue to yell behind me.

I trip and fall in my haste and the coins in my pocket scatter. I try to grab them but the children rush out ahead of me and begin picking them up.

“No! Stop! Give that back!” I sit up but one of the little boys pulls my hood down over my face and the others shove me as they run by. “Give it back!” I cry. I pull the hood away and, to my surprise, I see the black sheep standing before the kids. The children try to walk around her, but the sheep moves to block them again.

“Move!” The boy who pushed me charges to hit the sheep, but she opens her mouth, and it is a horror. Her mouth slips open, revealing fangs and sharp teeth, blood red tongues that slither out like slimey tendrils. The children scream, dropping the coins they took from me and sprinting around me to get away.

The sheep closes her mouth and mudges her nose at the coins. She then lifts her head, wagging her little black tail as she waits for me to pick them up.

I start to weep, clutching my hands around my eyes. “I can’t do this again!” I sob. “Not again!”

The black sheep pushes at my hands, sniffing at me and bleating gently.

“Why do these monsters keep finding me?” I sob.

“Get off the ground, Bo.”

A cold chill goes down from my scalp and to my neck. I look up through tears at the black sheep as she stares at me. “What?”

“Get off the ground, stand straight,” she says in a calm, yet demanding voice. “Do not let the sheep of the town trample you under their hooves. Get up.”

I stare in fear and awe. Already I have seen her gaping maw appear as a gateway to some hellish vision. Now she speaks to me, perfectly human! “What is this?” I whisper. “What are you?”

She nudges me, pushing until I stand on my feet again. “I am yours, of course.”

I stare down at her in disbelief and fear. I almost want to run, but my feet are frozen in place. “I do not want this. Not again. Once those children get home and tell their families what they saw-”

“Then let them come, and let them see I am nothing but an ordinary ewe. I have nothing to hide from them, nor do you. Children are known to make up stories and be cruel.”

I scowl down upon her. “But their parents can be crueler, and they can ruin our farm all over again. We barely survived last time!”

She lifts her chin. “This time will be different, I promise you that, Bo. Now go, buy your comb, and I will return to the farm. No one will be any the wiser, I promise you. I am yours, and yours alone.”

I shake my head. “I can’t trust this.”

“I know I must earn it, Bo, and I intend to. I am not your brother.”

My chest shudders at the mention. “What do you know?” I grab the coins off the ground and stomp away from her. I expect to be attacked at any moment while I go into the shop. I buy what I need and, as I leave, I fear who will be waiting on me.

Coming out of the shop, I see Mary stepping from her buggy. She looks at me with surprise and she gently touches a lock of hair on her cheek, brushing it aside. “Bo, you’re hurt.”

I look at my hand, which had been scuffed when I tripped. “It’s nothing.” I pocket the comb in my apron and keep my hand there.

“You’re filthy.” Mary murmurs as I try to walk by. “Did you fall?”

“It’s nothing,” I scoff again.

Mary follows beside me. “Did something happen?”

I keep my eyes ahead and don’t look at her. “I told you, Mary, it’s nothing.”

“Did someone push you?” She hisses.

I look at her. “Why do you care?”

She stiffens and sniffs. “It is one thing for your family to be the butt of the rumor mill, but physical violence is another.”

“I’d rather you hit me than talk behind my back, Mary,” I sneer at her.

Her eyes soften, brows knitting together as a pout comes to her pretty pink lips. “Now, Bo-”

“Nope,” I turn on my heel and walk away again. Mary continues to follow.

“I never said anything about your family, not since the-”

“Don’t!” I snap at her. “You are many things, Mary, but do not start being a liar.”

Mary’s mouth opens and remains agape. “Now see here, Bo Peep! I never said anything about your family after what happened with Henry. I have been trying to help you by getting that farm away from you.”

“That farm is all we have!” I snap at her. “We relied on our good reputation, unlike your farm! You have connections, we don’t. Your father has rich friends, rich family. Your family has connections to Miror! Royalty!”

Mary closes her mouth and frowns.

“With our reputation in the mud, all we have is land. You take that from us and we literally will have nothing.” I am about to cry, but I will not let Mary see that.

“Then stay on the farm. Let me buy it and I’ll pay you and your father to run it.” Mary starts to smile, which angers me more.

“I will not be your staff, Mary! Now leave me alone!” I storm off ahead of her, trying to leave her behind me so I can return home in peace.

I make it home without another incident, so I sit and wait for the hammer to fall. I go into the barn to continue carding the black wool. The more I pull the comb through it, the more I see the shiny metallic strands inside.

I feel eyes upon me and I look up to see the black ewe watching me. My hands still and I settle back upon my seat. I’m not sure what to feel, I’m far too tired after all these years.

“I mean you no harm, Bo.” The ewe walks into the barn. “I came to care for you.”

“I am done with monsters,” I hiss. “I am done with the harm they inflict and the nightmares that follow them. My family has had enough of it. We cannot survive you and what you bring.”

She tilts her head to the side. “What makes you believe that I am a monster, Bo?”

Tears flood to my eyes. “Just tell me what you are! You say you are mine then obey me like you are!”

The barn doors suddenly close behind her, causing my bones to flinch from my muscle. My breath shakes as I force myself to breathe. The black ewe then rises, standing on hind legs. Fingers sprout and grow around the hooves of her front legs, spreading out until the hard hoof becomes the center of her palm. Her arms grow out, pulling from the body until she reaches up, and pulls at the ears on top of her head, pulling away her face and skin like a hood. Her face underneath is skeletal, with her teeth shiny gold, and the incisors jutting out longer than the rest. The shape of her face is very much, still sheep-like, but the eyes are larger, and strangely human. She stands tall before me, breathing fog from her nostrils.

“My name is Demeter,” she says cooly. “I have existed in these hills longer than humans. Before the Goddess Alice came and took on mortal life, I was here.”

“You’re a god?”

“In one sense, and in another no.” She tilts her head to the side. “I don’t like to be associated with the divine, and they certainly don’t want to be associated with me.” She lays her hand over her chest. “I prefer the land and the creatures that tread it. That is who I exist for.”

My vision is going dark, fading to tiny bright pinpoints before I lose consciousness all together. It is all too much for me who has had to take too much already. In my unconsciousness, I always go to the same scene. I am standing before the big, red barn doors, having just put the sheep and goats away for the night. I turn away from the red to see something running between the bails of hay. The dark shadow darts between them, coming closer and closer. I turn to head home and I am grabbed and shoved against the barn doors. Massive, clawed hands pin my shoulders back and I see the bleeding gaping jaws of a wolf before me. I scream, and as always, I wake up from my horrible nightmare.

I sit up from my bed and see Demeter watching over me. “Please, let this still be a dream,” I begin to weep.

Demeter sits down on the side of my bed and strokes her long, strange fingers through my hair. “Little Bo Peep,” she whispers to me. “You need to sleep.”

“I can’t,” I whisper. “I have nightmares all the time. I cannot face them. So I will not sleep.”

“Your nightmares lie in the waking world,” she says. “What you face in slumber is nothing compared to what you suffer through daily, is it not?”

I sniffle and look up at her. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

Demeter slips her fingers under my chin. “I have grown weak over the centuries. I have been sleeping far too much. I wish to be taken care of, loved even.”

I stare at her and frown. “Then you should have remained a sheep.”

Demeter’s chuckle is soft. “I would love to be nothing but your doting pet, but I am afraid I have never been one to let things go by easily.” Her wide blinking eyes appear soft in a way. She breathes a thick fog into the room. “The cult that worshipped me before the Court of Chess wiped them out was all women. They gave me strength to make the land fertile, and their livestock strong. Since they were chased from this land, I have let myself and the land fall into a sort of slumber. My power comes from affection.”

“But why choose me?” I grumble. “Isn’t there better people in this world to do that with? Better farms? Better people?”

Demeter tilts her head. “If you keep thinking that way, Bo, you will only end up hurting yourself. The measure of a person isn’t by what makes them ‘better’ than everyone else.”

I look away from her and pull my knees up to my chest.

“I will continue to play the doting pet, if that is what you so require. I will also be your friend, your confidant, and your protector. I just ask you to let me stay by your side. My strength will grow, my powers will return, and I will help you flourish.”

I look away from her briefly, staring back into her eyes. “I can’t give much. I do not know why you think I can. You would be better to go and find affection for someone who has not had their mind and soul weakened like mine.”

Demeter brushes my hair away from my face. “I want to help you as you have helped me. You believe you only sheered wool from me and fed me, but what you did is a kindness no one else would offer, not since I was forgotten.” She pulls her hands away from me. “Get some sleep.” She turns into the black ewe again, her limbs pulling back inside the body bit by bit until she stands on all fours. “I will guard you while you do.”

“You cannot guard me from what is inside my head.”

Using her teeth she pulls my blanket up around me. “I am a sheep, count on me.”

I lay my head upon the pillow, knowing I will not get any sleep that night, like usual. I close my eyes to pretend, but then, something strange happens. I wake up. I had fallen asleep! I have not just fallen asleep since my brother had- I look up from my pillow to see Demeter resting under the window. She lifts her head and meets my gaze.

“Sleep well, Bo?” She asks as she stands.

“It’s been so long,” I whisper.

Demeter walks over to the bed and lays her head upon the edge. “I am glad you did. Come now, let's go take the sheep out this lovely morning.”

I get up from bed and prepare for the day. I put on my clothes and tuck my hair under my bonnet. As I make breakfast, I can hear my father in his bedroom. I leave before he wakes, going out and gathering the other sheep to take them out.

Demeter bleats loudly and I turn to look at her, only to see Mary and her buggy pulling up. Mary steps out and looks at me in a strange sort of awed way. She stiffens, smoothing her palm down her skirt. Demeter places herself before me, nuzzling up to my side and acting quite cute.

“My, what a pretty ewe you have there.” Mary approaches. “Where did you get her?” She extends her hand to pet her, but Demeter pulls away and places her head in my palm.

“I found her,” I answer. “She was overgrown and abandoned. What are you doing here again?”

Mary’s eyes dart around as if looking for an answer. “I came to check up on you.” She laces her fingers together. “Is that so wrong?”

“I’m taking the sheep out. Obviously I am fine.” I turn to continue to leave.

“Bo! Wait-” Mary clutches her hands together. “Sheep have been going missing lately, you should be careful out there on your own.”

I shrug. “I’m well aware. But no one wants our cursed sheep, believe me.”

“Bo-” She says again, and the only reason I stop at this call is because of the urgency and fear her voice holds. I turn and look back at her, seeing a slightly pained expression upon her face.

“What now?”

Mary approaches me cautiously. “I need to talk to you, privately.”

Demeter bleats and I put my hand on her head. “What about?”

Her eyes grow wet, and her pout is less pretty from fear. “I think I know what is taking the sheep.”

I furrow my brow. “Why tell me? Tell the constable or anyone else.”

Mary grabs my arm. “I can’t, it’s-” She looks around like a frightened rabbit. “Only you could understand.” She pulls me to the barn with Demeter close behind. She shuts the door behind us and begins rolling up her sleeve. “It happened a few weeks ago. I saw him in the yard, chasing down one of our rams.” She finishes rolling up her sleeve to show me a healing bite mark. “The ram hit him in the head, and I thought he was unconscious, but he-”

I touch Mary’s arm around the bite mark. “Who?”

Mary blinks and tears form from her blue eyes. “It was Braun,” she whispers. “At least, I think it was him. It had his eyes, he said my name-” She licks her lips and pleads with me with her eyes. “It was like what happened to Henry.”

I move my hands down to clutch Mary’s. “No, say it’s not true!”

She nods her head. “I am so afraid, Bo. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid if I came to you, it would-” She places her head upon my shoulder and weeps openly.

I look down at Demeter as I stroke Mary’s back. Demeter’s eyes widen and turn golden and she bleats at me, pushing against my legs.

“It’s okay, Mary.” I hold her up and cup her face in my hands. “I don’t know what to do, but I am here for you.”

She cups her hand around mine, closing her eyes as more tears fall. “Thank you, Bo.”

I have her sit down and fetch her some water. “When Henry came back, he was covered in bite marks. He said the creature that did it looked like some strange, malformed wolf. Is that what Braun looked like?”

Mary shakes her head. “No.” She wipes her eyes. “He looked like...like a big, horrifying sheep.”

I furrow my brow. “A sheep?”

She nods. “I didn’t believe it myself but, yes. Braun had turned into some sort of horrible monstrous sheep.”

My whole body becomes covered in tingling cold chills. What happened to Henry I would never wish on my worst enemy, and I wouldn’t consider Mary even that. “And he bit you so-”

She touches her arm where the bite mark was. “What happened with Henry?” She whispers.

I shake my head. “I’m not sure. After he came home, he was very withdrawn. He barely talked to us. He stayed gone most of the day, I sometimes see him at night but-”

Mary sinks. “I’ve been feeling sick at night. My bones hurt, my joints ache horribly, and my body hair has begun to change.”

My brow pinches. “How so?”

Mary’s cheeks rogue. “It’s-” she looks down then back at me, “personal.”

I bite my lip. “I just mean how has it changed. Not where.”

“Oh!” Her cheeks grow darker. “It’s becoming white and dense, more like, wool.” She looks to Demeter who is watching her. “Like a sheep.”

I nod, unsure what to say or do that would offer any comfort. I reach out and touch her shoulder. “Oh, Mary.”

Mary weeps openly, bracing her hands around her face. “I’m so scared I don’t know what to do. I’ve considered just killing myself so I can escape what has happened to Henry and Braun, but I-”

“Don’t!” I snap at her. “Please, don’t do that. I’ll help you, I’ll try.” I look at Demeter then shake my head. “I’ll go through Henry’s things, see if he says anything. But until then, you need to tell people about Braun. You don’t even have to say it’s him, just say you saw another monster.”

“What about you?” She whispers. “What if they think it’s Henry again?” She suddenly clinches up and whimpers. “What if they think it’s you?”

I gnash my teeth together. “They already think it’s me. Better than you acting reckless.” We stand back up and I take her back to her buggy. “Go home, tell your parents you saw something on your property, and I’ll see what I can find.” I give her hand a tight squeeze. “Try not to worry yourself to death, alright?”

Mary holds my hand with both of hers. “Thank you, Bo. I owe you my life.” She then places a soft, warm kiss upon my cheek. “I will never be able to repay your kindness!” She waves to me as she pulls the reins.

I touch my cheek, and as she drives away, Demeter sits down beside me. “Give me some sugar cubes, and I’ll help you save your pretty little girlfriend.”

I grimace down at her and scoff. “Mary isn’t my girlfriend.”

Demeter looks up at me. “Just give me some sugar cubes.”