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Chapter Five
AN: I hope you guys are enjoying the story! You SEEM to be, the number of people reading the chapters seems to be FAIRLY consistent, so I guess that’s good. I haven’t seen any posts about grammar, or inconsistency so I guess my first literary endeavor to see the light of day. . . sort of. . . . isn’t a complete bomb. What I’m trying to say ladies and gents, is that these characters do not belong to me, I’m merely dusting them off and playing with them a bit. Don’t worry, I’ll put them away in their little boxes so you all can take them for a spin. Just, tell me what you think, what works, doesn’t work. Be brutally honest, because that’s what is needed. Hell, I have English-122 coming up. I’m paying old, retired people to say if I have any talent, if I can string a few words together to form a sentence which makes sense to someone, out of my own mind. Oh, and just so that all of you who have not been scared away know: I’m in retail. I work at an electronics store, and I’m working a lot more hours this week, so I should only update between 2-4 times, and that’s with Mother’s Day. I can’t *wait* for Father’s Day! Now, for all of you who did listen to this rambling note because I refuse to delete it unless I’m made to: on to chapter five! Oh, I have a question for all of you. It only requires a “yes,” or a “no.” how many of you read the introductory part before the real chapter begins, which sets up what’s going to happen? I’m just curious. . .
Chapter Five
France, 1800
“Well, well! Aren’t you a pretty lil’ lass?” the Irishman asked the young girl.
“Thank you, sir.” the tears streamed down soot-covered cheeks as she stared at the monster before her, his cat-eyed stare gazing at her in the darkness of her refuge. Sharp, white canines gleamed in the moonlight streaming in from the open window.
He and Darla laughed as he yanked her out from the coal bin.
Hours later, the last thing she was aware of before death took her was the taste of copper in her mouth.
* * * * * *
England, 1865
He watched the two girls in the garden. One couldn’t be more than six, she was so small. The other was a woman with the laugh of a child. They were spinning in a patch of daisies in the moonlight under the stars, the ground was littered with daisies, and roses clung to the walls of the manor. Ivy covered the ground like weeds, seemingly unattended.
And they spun. Around, and around. . . until they collapsed into a giggling heap onto the soft ground, the woman flipping them so that the little girl landed on top of her.
The woman was fine. Laughing at the dazed look on the little face of the little girl who the observer assumed to be her daughter. He could almost see the little birds who danced before the girl’s eyes as her head seemed to wobble atop her shoulders, ready to fall off at the slightest provocation.
In contrast to her daughter, mother was perfectly at ease, reclining under the stars on a bed of daisies and soft ivy, turning the girl in her arms until she was tucked into her side.
They never saw it coming. Never saw the crossbow as he loaded it, aiming straight at the little girl. Never heard the click as the arrow was loaded with trembling fingers.
But he never heard him, either. Never heard the soundless motion of the demon, moving like a blur from the front of the house to the stone wall, the same demon who starred in his nightmares these last 65 years, the demon who filled his every waking moment as the grief of losing his family tore his heart and soul apart.
All he heard was a growl filled with fury as the monster tore the bow from his fingers, not caring about the pain as the bolt fired, barely missing the heart.
All he felt was a vise at his throat, squeezing his head until he felt like his eyeballs just might bulge from their sockets.
All he felt before death took him was a tearing as the demon tore his head from his shoulders, dropping it with a “thump” like a piece of rubbish.
He never heard the shout as the little girl glimpsed the head on the ground before either of her parents could shield the gore from her view.
Never heard the hearts of two demons shatter as a little girl looked at them in shock, horror, and revulsion.
AN: This was an extremely mini-chapter, but I’m posting another one right after, either today, or tomorrow. I dunno what you guys think, but I’d love to know! Sorry I haven’t updated in like. . . three days, I’ve just had a lot on my plate lately. Anyway, I should have the next part out by tomorrow, as I have off. See ya guys!
Chapter Five
France, 1800
“Well, well! Aren’t you a pretty lil’ lass?” the Irishman asked the young girl.
“Thank you, sir.” the tears streamed down soot-covered cheeks as she stared at the monster before her, his cat-eyed stare gazing at her in the darkness of her refuge. Sharp, white canines gleamed in the moonlight streaming in from the open window.
He and Darla laughed as he yanked her out from the coal bin.
Hours later, the last thing she was aware of before death took her was the taste of copper in her mouth.
* * * * * *
England, 1865
He watched the two girls in the garden. One couldn’t be more than six, she was so small. The other was a woman with the laugh of a child. They were spinning in a patch of daisies in the moonlight under the stars, the ground was littered with daisies, and roses clung to the walls of the manor. Ivy covered the ground like weeds, seemingly unattended.
And they spun. Around, and around. . . until they collapsed into a giggling heap onto the soft ground, the woman flipping them so that the little girl landed on top of her.
The woman was fine. Laughing at the dazed look on the little face of the little girl who the observer assumed to be her daughter. He could almost see the little birds who danced before the girl’s eyes as her head seemed to wobble atop her shoulders, ready to fall off at the slightest provocation.
In contrast to her daughter, mother was perfectly at ease, reclining under the stars on a bed of daisies and soft ivy, turning the girl in her arms until she was tucked into her side.
They never saw it coming. Never saw the crossbow as he loaded it, aiming straight at the little girl. Never heard the click as the arrow was loaded with trembling fingers.
But he never heard him, either. Never heard the soundless motion of the demon, moving like a blur from the front of the house to the stone wall, the same demon who starred in his nightmares these last 65 years, the demon who filled his every waking moment as the grief of losing his family tore his heart and soul apart.
All he heard was a growl filled with fury as the monster tore the bow from his fingers, not caring about the pain as the bolt fired, barely missing the heart.
All he felt was a vise at his throat, squeezing his head until he felt like his eyeballs just might bulge from their sockets.
All he felt before death took him was a tearing as the demon tore his head from his shoulders, dropping it with a “thump” like a piece of rubbish.
He never heard the shout as the little girl glimpsed the head on the ground before either of her parents could shield the gore from her view.
Never heard the hearts of two demons shatter as a little girl looked at them in shock, horror, and revulsion.
AN: This was an extremely mini-chapter, but I’m posting another one right after, either today, or tomorrow. I dunno what you guys think, but I’d love to know! Sorry I haven’t updated in like. . . three days, I’ve just had a lot on my plate lately. Anyway, I should have the next part out by tomorrow, as I have off. See ya guys!
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