A Fox's Tale: The Ballad of Erick The Fox

Sitting in his messy room was a young red fox, whimpering in silence. His fingers ran along his bruised cheek and swollen, blackened eye. The young cub cried, ignoring his parent's screams. He blamed himself and whimpered until he heard a faint knock at his bedroom door. He thought about laying down and pretending to be asleep but decided not to, in case it was his father. “Yes?” he asked, too afraid to raise his voice. “The doors unlocked,” he said, frightened as to who was on the other side. As the door opened, the young cub looked down, afraid that his father had come to beat him again. “Hello, Erick,” Erick looked up and sighed, grateful to see his mother instead. She quickly made her way to his bed and ran her paw over his bruised face. “Are you alright?” Erick shook his head and tried to keep his composure as best he could. The older fox wore an old leather jacket; the color had long faded and the leather was torn. Her pants were the only nice pair she owned—the only pair her husband had ever bought her. “Erick…” “I’m sorry about the coins,” Erick whispered, hoping to make amends for what happened. “I didn’t…” “It doesn’t matter,” she said, pulling him close and sobbing. Here was her child; many of his right side teeth were broken from another violent incident from long ago. His bruised and blackened right eye was almost blinded by another violent incident. Patches of fur were missing from years of abuse. At times, she couldn't bear to look at his face. Her cub was a reminder of her own neglect. “It doesn’t matter; when he falls asleep, we’re going to leave.” She wiped away her tears and tried her best to be strong for her child. “I sent Elizabeth a message on her phone, telling her to stay away, so please do as I say.” “Where will we go?” Erick asked, too afraid to even think of how angry his father would be if he knew what they were planning. “It doesn’t matter,” she answered him. “Pack a bag, and I’ll knock on your door once he drinks himself to sleep.” “I d-don’t want him to hurt me a-again,” Erick stuttered in fear. “I didn’t mean to ask Elizabeth to buy-” but before he could even utter another word, the two turned at the sound of their apartment door opening. “Elizabeth,” his mother whispered. Tears ran down her face when she heard her husband growl and drunkenly say his daughter’s name. “Erick, lock your door,” she ordered. “But-” Erick was about to say, but his mother glared. “Lock your door, and whatever you do, don’t open it unless I tell you to!” She sat up and pulled her hands from Erick’s frightened grasp. “I love you-” Erick sat up and locked the door as soon as his mother left. He rested his back against the cheap wood and covered his ears. He heard his father demand his sister return the coins she had taken from him, but only got a mocking response. The young cub pressed his paws over his ears but still heard his mother beg his father to go to bed. However, he heard the older fox scream and cry before a loud slap echoed through the small apartment. His mother shrieked in pain, and Elizabeth yelled at her father. “What the f**k is wrong with you?” Elizabeth angrily asked. Erick sang louder; his chest ached and his head spun. He felt trapped and powerless. The three were growling and hissing, like the feral foxes of the east. Erick closed his eyes and whimpered. Doing something he rarely ever did, he prayed for the fighting to end. “I’m getting the knights!” “You’re going to your room!” Their father ordered. "I try too f*****g hard to make this right, to feed you, and all I ever get is insults, just because I can't be like that f*****g white-furred cunt your mother loves so much!" He heard his father walk towards her, probably to pull her arm. He often used force to get what he wanted. “Go to your room!” “I won’t!” His sister protested. She screamed as if struggling to pull away from their father's grasp. Their father would always dig his claws into their wrists, just to scare them. Erick continued to cry, forcing himself to sing. Even with his ears covered, he could still hear their screams. He heard another slap, which was followed by another, and soon Elizabeth was crying, begging for him to stop. “You want to act like a slut!” The older fox yelled, “You took my silver just for some stupid gray fox?” Erick heard another slap, and soon their mother yelled, momentarily stopping the argument. “What are you-?” The older fox asked. “I’ll do it!” Their mother threatened. Before she could say another word, Erick heard his heavy footsteps’ rush towards her, knocking her down. He heard the sound of glass breaking and metal thrashing. “We could have been a f*****g family! But you still love Azrael!” His father said, and his mother gasped in response, begging the drunken fox to let them go. Erick heard Elizabeth run and try to stop whatever their father was doing, but he soon heard her scream and fall back to the ground. He heard his mother shriek, followed by a sickening crunch, like bones breaking. His mother’s muffled groans quickly came to an end. Elizabeth cried, and their father drunkenly stood up and rushed towards her. Erick sang and cried, hearing his father strike his sister as hard as he could. “Elizabeth…” the older fox whispered, as if realizing what he had done. Erick finally removed his paws from his ears and tried to listen for Elizabeth, but only heard his father’s footsteps walking towards his bedroom door. “Erick,” said his drunken father. “I need you to open the door for me.” Although he wanted to obey the older fox, he knew what would happen once he opened that door. “Erick!” His father shrieked, “Open this f*****g door!” The drunken fox kicked at the door, pressing his weight against the cheap wood. Erick shrieked as he heard the frame c***k and the metal knob twist until he heard it snap. “All you had to do was f*****g listen-” Just as the older fox was about to push his way inside, Erick heard their apartment door burst open. He heard the sound of metal boots scraping against the cheaply bought tiled floor, making their way towards them. "What now?” The older fox asked. “Drop the knife!” Ordered whoever had come inside, Erick’s father screamed, and Erick heard him run towards the other foxes. In a scuffle, he heard the sound of metal tearing through flesh. The clunking of metal was heard once again, and a knock came from outside his bedroom door. “Are you alright?” asked the voice. “Are they okay?” was the only thing he could ask. He carefully placed his hand on the metal knob, and as he opened it, standing over him, silent and powerful, was a red fox in metal armor. The chest plate was stained in blood and the metal helmet dented from where his father's knife had struck. He turned to look at the blood splattered on the cheap walls. “Don’t look at them as we head outside,” the knight begged him. “Your friend, Etheo sent us; I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.” “Mother?” Erick asked. The knight whispered a single no, “Elizabeth?” “She’s badly hurt, but we’ll try to save her.” Erick tried his best to move through his apartment, but he couldn’t help but look and see his father, barely clinging to life, still holding the knife at hand. The knight gently pulled him towards the living room, where he saw his sister covered in her own blood and his mother’s lifeless eyes staring back at him. When he walked outside, he saw two more knights holding their sharpened swords at hand. At the end of the hallways, near the stairs, he saw his friend, Etheo and his father, Arreah, a black-furred fox, waiting for him. The two looked cornered for the cub, who stared blankly at them. Erick felt nothing but guilt for suggesting his sister get him an expensive gift this year. Erick’s phone lit up, and as he removed it to silence it, he saw the words ‘Happy 7th Birthday’ in large, bright letters.