Story 5

Escape

Shivers raced over my skin. A long cold river flowed swiftly passed. Snow covered the land. I was on one side of the river. My friends, my family, and my heart were on the other. To them I was lost.

I climbed the dead tree that overlooked the mountains. The small boat I’d used to row over was banked just below me. I couldn’t go home ever again. My destiny was now intertwined with that of the river.

“Madge!” a voice floated over to me. I glanced down from my perch to see Parker looking lost and lonely on the opposite side of the river.

I’d said my goodbye for long enough. Now it was time to leave. I slid out of the tree and into the boat.

“Madge, please, no!”

I couldn’t look at him as I picked up the paddle, and began rowing downstream with the current.

“Madge! Don’t leave! I love you!”

The paddle landed with a clatter in the bottom of the boat. I spun around, and gazed longingly after him. He was the prize I couldn’t have. He was the only thing I wanted. But I had to leave. I had no other choice. “I love you too,” I whispered at his diminishing figure. I turned forward and picked up my fallen paddle.

A sudden splash made me turn around. Parker was no longer there. His head popped above the water, and he began taking awkward strokes in my direction as the ice cold water began to freeze him.

“Parker!” I screamed. I rapidly paddled in his direction. I’d almost reached him when his head disappeared from sight.

I threw myself at the side of the boat, and stretched my arms as far as they would go into the place he’d disappeared. Please grab my hand, I screamed in my head. Grab my hand!

Something bumped against me slightly. I clung to the hand and pulled upward with all my might. Parker came up out of the water gasping. He was only half in the boat, and I struggled with all my might to pull him the rest of the way without capsizing. When he was in, I striped him of his coat and shirt. We both knew we had to get his clothes off him quick or he’d suffer from hypothermia.

I tossed him one of my blankets, and turned around while he peeled away his wet leggings. I busied my self with taking off my own coat and shirt, leaving only my thin undershirt.

When he was ready, I grabbed another blanket and spun to face him. He was sitting on the seat, bare-chested, to one side, shivering. The first blanket was wrapped like a cocoon around his lower half. I wrapped my large coat around him and draped the blanket over it. Sitting down on the bench but facing the other way, I slipped my arms inside the coat and wrapped them around his chest. He pulled the ends of the coat and blanket around my back and held the tightly.

“Sometimes you’re so stupid, Parker,” I mumbled against his chest as we floated down the river, willing my body heat to warm him. It was all I could do to hold back tears.

“I-I c-c-couldn’ le’ y-y-you g-go,” he stuttered. “N-n-not wi’ou’ m-me.”

I felt a warmth spread over me. Maybe I wouldn’t have to go alone after all.

Story 4

This story came from my friend Emily shooting words at me as I wrote. The bolded words are the ones she gave me it you couldn't guess. I can see lots of possbilities with this one. It might be just the thing I was looking for. More posts from this one might come in the future.


Telepathic. More like tele-pathetic. I was a failure, I thought as darkness surrounded me. It was a massacre. Everything was destroyed. A feeling of malcontent permeated the air.

I felt miserable. Everything was my fault. The malicious people knew it too. They said I was a terror. A menace. I didn’t even cry out for help as the stuffed me into a bag to carry me away. The fatalities were too great for me to feel otherwise.

The remaining people dropped me on the ground. Cold rose from the hard floor, chilling my skin. I couldn’t fathom the things they had planned for me.

The door slamming closed reached me. After a bit of careful maneuvering, I managed to slither out of the bag. I was in a dark room. Not even a sliver of light existed for my eyes to use to adjust. Most likely I was underground. Most likely, the people weren’t coming back.

Ever.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.

Telepathic, they’d called me after seeing my first demonstration of the power I didn’t know I had had. They didn’t know it was something much more. It was magic, pure and simple, and I had no control over it. Mostly, it manifested itself in moving objects. But lately, it showed itself more and more in displays of fire. “I wish I could create some fire now,” I thought aloud to myself. But, as I said before, I had no control.

(Branded) II

How could have been so stupid?! I had tried to erase those memories over the years, and I had completely forgotten my best friend.

My thoughts were interrupted by the door slamming again. I looked up to see who it was. It was a huge man.

He had a dark mask over his head, so I couldn’t see his face. The only part of his face that I could see were his eyes. They were a deep crimson red. They seemed to be searching my soul for my darkest secrets. With sickening recollection, I realized who this man was. He was the Seeker.

The Seeker was sent out to catch those who had rebelled against the Watchers. It was also his duty to protect the Watchers and the Perfects. This man was the figure who haunted the Unclean’s darkest nightmares.

I could feel a scream building up in my chest as he took another step closer to me. My eyes were focused on his every move, fear pinning me down in my chair. If he were to attack, I knew I would have no chance against him.

Just as the scream made it’s way up to my throat and I opened my mouth to let it escape. The seeker jumped forward.

My scream froze in my throat. I didn’t recognize this boy, but he appeared to be my age. It was with a shock that I realized he was a Perfect. As I realized this, he pulled a red contact from his eye, revealing bright green beneath.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered, replacing the contact and mask. He grabbed my wrist and spun me in a circle so my back was pressed against his chest. His giant arm wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my side. His other hand came to rest over my mouth.

With his elbow, he pounded on the wall in the same place the head Watcher had prior. The door swung open, and we stepped out into the dark hallway beyond.

“You need to look as though you are fighting me,” the masked Perfect whispered in my ear.

There was no need to pretend. I started to fight back with all my might. His grip around me tightened, and he slowed down.

“No need to be that realistic,” he hissed.

The scream started to build up again. I didn’t know him. He said he was trying to help, but fear was still gnawing at me.

We were half way down the hall when two Watchers turned the corner. I started to struggle harder.

“Hey!” one of them called out.

The Perfect stopped and, once again, tightened his grip. As the Watchers came closer, something seemed vaguely familiar about them.

“Sedate her,” the first Watcher ordered. He had on dark glasses, but a thick mass of blond hair fell over them.

As my eyes widened in recognition, the other Watcher pulled out a long needle from his bag. He came forward and pushed my sleeve up. My heart rate accelerated as I felt the cold sting off the needle.

My eyes felt heavy, and my arms and legs seemed to relax. The masked Perfect lifted me into his arms, and started down the hall again.

* * *

Josh paced the hallway. Up, down, back up, and down. Impatience filled him to the very core. His eyes flitted over to the room then turned back to the imaginary line he paced.

I watched him through half-lidded eyes. I felt sick. It seemed as if the world wouldn’t stop spinning. And there was Josh. I’d see him appear momentarily while passing the door. He would then appear an instant later, walking in the other direction. He wasn’t helping my nausea any.

A small groan escaped my lips as he disappeared again. He appeared, again, in an instant, backpedaling. Seconds later, he was kneeling down by the side of my bed. Worry creased his brow. He took my hand gently and held it in both of his. Eyes the color of sapphires gleamed at me. MY mind flashed: Eyes in the forest, eyes of a child, eyes of a Watcher.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I rasped. “You knew me before.”

His eyes dropped, the last conformation I needed. When they lifted, I could see a deep sadness. “I was waiting for you to remember. After I told you my name, I thought you’d know for sure, but there was no recognition.

I thought that over for a moment. “Where am I?”

He watched my face closely. “Totus.” *

Totus! I was in the city of the Perfects! Another thought jumped at me. “Where’s my brother? Where’s Rick?”

His expression told me everything I needed to know. Slowly, he shook his head.

Tears welled up in my eyes. They had left Rick in the Waste. Sadness turned to anger. I threw my pillow at Joshua’s head.

“How could you?!” I screamed. “He is just a little kid!”

Josh ducked as the pillow flew past his head. “Hey! I’m sorry! We didn’t have enough time to get both of you out!”

My breath was coming out in hysterical sobs. “You should have tried! Do you know what they will do to him? No! Of course you don’t! You have absolutely no idea!!”

My anger faded away and my voice came out in a whisper. Josh had to lean closer to hear. “He was still a baby when we first arrived at the Waste. I was the one who raised him. He was all I had left.”

Making a sudden decision, I climbed from the bed, and headed to the door. Before I’d made it two steps, Josh stopped me. He pulled me toward him, and I collapsed against him as his arms wrapped around me.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he whispered, “we don’t think he was taken. We think he probably ran away after you were taken yourself.” He released a sigh. “I’m sorry Sam. We would have searched for him, but the Watchers were onto us. We still have people, though, hiding out in the Waste, watching.”

I rolled this over in my mind, and my sobs quieted. “Thank you,” I croaked with a voice that could barely be heard above the wind.

We sat there holding each other for a few more moments. Strangely, it felt right . . .
“Break it up!!” a voice shouted from behind. Instantly, Josh and I separated. Laughter broke out almost as instantly.

We turned around to see two more teenage boys, both our age. One had thick brown hair that cascaded right above his chocolate brown eyes. The other had strawberry-blonde hair and florescent green eyes. Both looked oddly familiar. Something in the way they held themselves.

“Hey there,” Green-Eyes greeted. “My name is Shawn, and this quiet thing beside me is Carson. We welcome you to Josh’s humble abode!”

It’s then that I realized that Shawn was the boy I’d mistaken for the Seeker. I offered them a smile of gratitude. “Thanks, you know, for everything.”

Shawn laughed. “Don’t mention it. Josh has been talking and planning to rescue you ever since I’ve known him. It’s an honor to finally meet you. In fact―”

He cut off as Josh plowed into him. Josh’s face was bright red. The two then commenced to fight as boys do. So I turned and began looking around the room.

Everything about it was . . . perfect. Smooth walls. Nice furniture. Clean floors. It was homey and filled me with a sense of security. But I couldn’t linger long on such thoughts, I had to make sure that Rick was safe. Somehow I had to leave to make sure that Rick was safe. Somehow I had to leave Totus without being noticed as an Unclean.

I paused in thought for a moment. Perhaps if I changed my appearance―

At that moment, a knock sounded at the door. The boys stopped fighting and looked at each other.

“Were you expecting anyone?” Shawn asked.

Josh came and stood close to me, grasping my shoulder. His grip was tight and frightened. He brought his hand to his lips and signaled everyone to be quiet. With his other hand, he pushed me behind the bed, and motioned for Carson to open the door.

Before he even took a step, the door swung open. There stood a girl with short blonde hair. She wore dark jeans with a white shirt.

“Seriously! You guys take forever to open the door!” she said, letting herself in.

I could practically feel the tension drain from the room. Josh still seemed a little tense, shifting his weight from side to side.

“Maybe there was a reason for that, Tesla,” Josh commented irritably.

The girl named Tesla turned towards Josh and placed a hand a hand on her hip. “Well excuse me, but I received a phone call from a very hysterical person telling, practically commanding, me to sprint over here with a bag of my clothes. Which, by the way, are mine and very expensive. Whatever you’re planning on doing with them better not involve scissors or the neighbors pet dog.

I stood up while she was talking. She barely gave me a glance as she continued her rant.

As the girl continued talking, Josh had somehow snatched the afore mentioned bag away from her grasp. He face me, rolled his eyes and mouthed, “drama queen.”

I barely contained laughter from erupting, but smiled as Josh handed me the bag.

“Here, we’ll go so you can change.” I waited for them to go, but Josh didn’t move. *** Shawn gave me a significant look I couldn’t interpret, before following Carson and Tesla from the room.

I looked into Josh’s eyes. He crossed the small distance between us with his hand until it grasped mine. Softly, he said, “I’m not sorry.”

I felt a prickling behind my eyes as his hand left mine, and he was gone.

My dead, scratchy colored clothes felt extremely uncomfortable against my skin. I snatched the bag from the place I’d set it on the floor. In an instant, my breath was coming out in short gasps when I thought about the way he’d looked at me. The worst part was, I still knew I had to go back to the Waste to rescue Rick.

As I thought of Rick, my stomach churned. I had left my brother. He had always counted on me, been there for me, and I had deserted him. All because I couldn’t pull myself away from the stupid fence.

Unwanted tears seeped out of the corner of my eyes. I quickly wiped them away, and grabbed the first clothes I touched from the bag.

I pulled out a beautiful white blouse that was light-weight and seemed to float around me. I had also grabbed a pair of blue skinny-jeans.

I looked at myself in the mirror across the room. My jaw dropped slightly. The clothes seemed to be made for me. They fit my non-curvy body like a glove. The only thing I didn’t like was my hair, but I would worry about that later.

Turning towards the door, I suddenly felt self-conscious. What would Josh think?

I shook my head at myself. I was being ridiculous. I had no reason to feel this way. So, with my head held high, I raised my voice. “I’m ready.”

Trying not to appear self-conscious as they entered, I tucked my hair behind my ear and looked towards where Josh was standing. A look of awe crossed over his face, but was quickly replaced by something I couldn’t comprehend. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, and looked down.

“You look . . .” Josh began, the same look of awe I’d seen before was prevalent.

Shawn didn’t feel the same reservations. “Hot!” he finished for Josh.

He wasn’t the only one that finished the statement, though. “Atrocious!” Tesla declared.

I looked at her in shock. She could at least try to say something nice.

“Don’t give me that look, darling. Sure the clothes are cute, but your hair needs a bunch of work before that outfit will look as fabulous as it has the potential to be. A little make-up wouldn’t hurt anything either.”

I kept my eyes firmly on the floor,

Tesla sighed and walked over to me, running her fingers through me drab brown hair. I heard her gasp, and she jerked away. I suddenly realized what she’d seen. My hand shot to the back of my neck, and I retreated to the far side of the room, away from her accusing stares. My small number brand seemed almost to burn beneath my hand. ‘I’m an Unclean,’ it seemed to scream. ‘I’m a mistake in your perfect world.

“What is going on here?!” Tesla demanded, looking at each of the boys in turn. She was wiping her hands vigorously on her jeans, trying to get my uncleanliness off of herself. Her eyes leapt to Josh. “Why is there a filthy Unclean in your house?!”

“Oh come on Tesla! Grow up,” Shawn said crossing over to her.

“Grow up?! No! I think my actions are quite appropriate for this time and place. It’s a filthy . . . thing!” she screamed.

Josh stood up straighter, and glared at her. “She’s a person, the same as me and you.”

“Ha!” she burst. “That brand on her neck says otherwise. I’m going to go find the Watchers right now!”

She turned on her heel. Shawn sidestepped right in front of the door. Tesla stopped in front of the door. Tesla stopped in front of him, and, without a word or warning, slapped him hard across the face.

As he looked at her with surprise she said with malice, “Out of my way Shawn.”

All I could do was watch as Shawn stood up straighter, glaring down at Tesla, and puffing out his chest.

“Make me,” he practically growled.

Tesla tried hard to hold onto the sense of duty she felt. She held her head up high, and glared right back at Shawn.

“Get out of my way, brother.” Each word was emphasized until she practically spat out “brother,” as if the taste of the word displeased her.

Shawn stood her ground, taking a step closer to Tesla so their noses were inches apart. “Like I said, make me.”

With a huge intake of breath, Tesla’s cheeks began to burn red, and she brought her hand back menacingly. But before she could release her wrath, Josh grasped her wrist, and twisted it behind her back. His other arm wrapped around her waist, just as she began to struggle.

“Josh! Josh, let me go!” She opened her mouth to scream, but Shawn put his hand over her mouth, silencing her. Tears of betrayal fell down her face as she thrashed around. Quickly, Josh and Shawn ushered Tesla through the door behind me that Carson held open. As she passed by, she threw me a glance that seemed to scream her displeasure at having me there. Her fury hit into me, and I crumbled against the wall as my knees buckled.

“Is that how everybody sees us?” I asked the floor in question as the door closed. I knew they were my betters, that I was beneath them. But I’d never faced it up front like this before. Living among the other Uncleans in the Waste had, in a way, protected me by shielding me from people like Tesla. It was only now that I realized Josh and his friends were in the minority.

I raised my head slightly, and was shocked to see that Carson was still in the room with me.

“Not everybody,” he said softly. I remembered I had asked a question. “Just a vast majority,” he finished.

Something in the way he’d said it made me start laughing. He examined me thoughtfully for a moment before walking toward me and extending his hand.

“Come on,” he said, “I want to show you something.”

Cautiously, I slipped my hand into his, and he pulled me to my feet. He led me out the door and into the hall. Soon, we reached another door that opened to outside.

I gasped as the sight of thousands upon thousands of stars greeted me. Carson caught my attention. He pointed to the brightest star in the sky. “You see that one?” I nodded. “It’s name is Sirius. While it is the brightest star in the sky, aside from the sun that is, it’s not actually the closest. It’s over eight and a half light-years away. That one, on the other hand,” he pointed to another bright star, “is called Alpha Centauri. It is the closest, at four light-years distance.”

“What’s a light-year?” I asked in confusion.

He was silent for a moment as he pondered how to answer. “You know how when you turn on a light, the room is instantly filled with said light. When light doesn’t have a stopping point, like walls and a ceiling, it keeps traveling. The distance the light is able to travel in one year is a light-year.”

“But, isn’t light without delay? Instant,” I said, grabbing onto the word he’d mentioned before.

“No,” Carson laughed, “that was a bad word to use on my part. Let’s put this in better terms. If something was to disturb the light from the sun, we wouldn’t become aware that any such disturbance had occurred until roughly 8 minutes later.”

I was so shocked at this. For the first time, I had a glimpse of how small we really were.

“Makes you feel insignificant, huh?”

I nodded.

“Tesla and others like her are like Alpha Centauri. Through pomp and circumstance, they were placed closer to the center.” He indicated the world at large. “But you,” he continued, “are like Sirius. You might be farther away, but you are still the much brighter star.”

I felt his eyes on me and turned to look at him.

“Is any of this helping you feel better, or am I just rambling on?”

I gave a small laugh. “Surprisingly yes, it does help. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He smiled.

“Sam?” I heard Josh suddenly call from inside the house. “Carson?”

Quickly, I dropped Carson’s hand I’d noticed I was still holding onto. “We’re out here," I called back, my voice shaking slightly.

The door creaked open and Josh stepped through. “What are you guys doing out here?” he asked curiously.

I gestured toward the stars. “Just looking.”

Josh gave a short bark of laughter. “Knowing Carson, you probably did some talking to. Ever since we found that book, he can’t stop talking about the stars. I hope he didn’t bore you too much.”

I looked at Carson, then back at the stars. “No, actually it was fascinating.”

Josh laughed again. “Don’t worry about hurting his feelings, Sam. We’ve all said it to him.”

Before I could argue my position, Josh continued.

“Are you ready to come inside?”

I glanced at Carson. He was leaning up against the railing, eyes fixed on the stars. “Yeah, I am.” To Carson, “Thanks again.”

He gave me a half smile out of the corner of his mouth, but didn’t look over.

I felt Josh’s hand slid into mine, and he pulled me inside.



* Totus – Latin word for whole

*** Just for fun, insert the following to where you see the *** in the story, then read until the end of the bolded part after the ***. It takes on a whole new meaning, and teaches you something about assumption words like gone.


“Can I have a moment?” When we were alone, he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think. Ever since they took you away I’ve been thinking. The first week after you were gone, I decided I wanted my friend back. I was angry at the Watchers. One day I followed a supply truck into the forest to the Waste. I saw you immediately, gazing outside the fence. You were so beautiful and so . . . sad.

“I went again and again after that day. I couldn’t stop going. Sometimes Rick was with you. Most of the time, though, you were alone. Other times you didn’t come at all, but that didn’t stop me from hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

“Then yesterday when you ran at the fence, Sam, it broke my heart. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

He gazed deep into my eyes. My mouth was hanging open slightly from shock. I was trapped in his deep blue sapphire eyes.

“I couldn’t stop myself.” His eyes darkened with need as he drew closer. His next sentence was hardly above a whisper. “Just like I can’t stop myself now.”

His lips met mine. All the air escaped from my lungs as I melted into his embrace.

There was a sudden gasp from the direction of the door. Josh pulled back and looked over. Tesla was standing open mouthed in the doorway. In a flash, her shock transformed into anger, and she had a gun in her hand. With a smile that a Watcher would envy, she pointed the gun at me, and pulled the trigger. I barely had time to see it happen when something slammed into me. My breath rushed out of me as something landed on top of me.

I pushed it off and realized it was Josh. I gasped and reeled back. A bright spot of red blood was blooming across his left shoulder.

Tesla growled from the doorway, and aimed the gun again. “Josh was mine!”

Carson’s arms were suddenly around Tesla. He pulled her from the room. Shawn looked shocked.


Now you see what I’d meant about gone. The first time you read it you probably assumed it meant he left the room. In this version, however, we see that gone meant death. You now know the power of the words of vague.

Story 3

Betrayal

Betrayed. I felt myself collapsing inside. He had betrayed us all. And it was my fault for giving him the secrets.

I raised my head and looked out the window. Men in body armor were standing down below. They were the Enforcers. In quick fashion, they prepared to storm the building. Behind me, all the other Resistors were crouched low in deep, agitated conversation. I was set on watch. They didn’t want to talk to me at the moment.

The expected flurry of activity ensued in the courtyard. “They’re coming,” I said quietly.

Brad, our leader, stood up slowly. “Time’s up,” he commented sadly. “Scatter,” he commanded, and was gone.

I stood and ran deeper into the building. As if on their own, my feet carried me to the room. A hand tightened over my heart, but I had to hide somewhere so I stepped inside. This was the room he had first kissed me. The whole time he had been planning the betrayal.

As I backed away from the door, a hand slapped over my face from behind. An arm wrapped itself securely around my waist.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Damien whispered dryly.

My heart beat began to race.

“Trust me,” he whispered.

That set me off. I pushed his hand away from my mouth. “Trust you? What reason have you given me to trust you? You betrayed us!”

His hand was covering my mouth again. Footsteps went running beyond the door. “There are bigger things happening than you understand.” He turned me around in the circle of his arm and looked pleadingly into my eyes. “I need you to trust me.”

I couldn’t break away from the chains his eyes bond me with. I knew what I had to do. Slowly, I nodded.

Relief broke out across his face, and he pulled me into a tight hug. “Follow my lead.”

He held both my hands behind his back with one of his. After opening the door, he put his hand on my shoulder, leading me down the hall.

We passed by Enforcers searching the building, but the paid us no mind. I began to fell nervous as we reached ground floor. Damien could sense my agitation. He leaned close to my ear. “Be still. Trust me.”

I clung to his words.

We stepped outside. I blinked as my eyes adjusted. Damien walked me over to a man who appeared to be in charge. My nervousness increased. Damien’s hand tightened over my wrists.

“Is this her?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Damien said, and my heart crumbled. “This is their leader, as promised.”

“What?!” I exclaimed.

The man signaled, and Enforcers seized me from either side.

“Damien!” I called as they dragged me away.

He looked me straight in the eye. “It’s what has to happen.”

My crumbled heart wrenched in half as the men threw me into the back of a truck, and drove away.

Story 2

Playing with Fire

Flash! She couldn’t see. The light filled her whole frame of vision. It seemed to burn her from the inside out. She couldn’t breath. Amid the flames, a voice seemed to call to her.

“Lauren!” The voice seemed vaguely familiar. She released a rasping cough as she tried to call for help. The building shuddered beneath her. She heard a crash.

Another shout rang out. It seemed to be getting farther away. Then it disappeared entirely. The fire seemed to be growing dimmer.

Suddenly, she seemed to rise into the heat. She was being lifted up, pressed against something. Her eyes fluttered open to see an alien looking down at her. It placed something over her head and began moving. Lauren lacked the energy to be scared. She wanted the flames to snuff her out as she would the flame of a candle.

The heat seemed to grow more and more intense. Then in a moment, it was behind her, like a distant memory. Or not-so-distant-, she decided as a wave of heat rolled over her. Even that, though, was fading away.

Shouting assailed her ears. The alien lowered her to the ground. Soft grass brushed her cheek. Smells of warm summer evenings caressed her. Her sore eyes blinked open.

The alien, or fireman she now realized, was speaking to her frantic parents. Some dropped down beside her. Worried eyes floated over her. “Chris,” she mumbled with a raspy voice.

Her best friend was covered head to toe in soot. “What happened, Lauren? Where did go Bryce? I thought you were supposed to be on a date.” He looked over at his house next door. Firemen were pouring water on it to prevent it from catching fire as well. Her house was a total loss. “I was home when I noticed the flames. I ran over immediately and saw Bryce leaving. I went inside to find you, but . . .” He raised his hands in a helpless gesture.

I closed my eyes against the pain: The pain of the burns and the pain in my heart. “It was Bryce,” I rasped. “He set fire to the house with me inside. He said he’d gotten everything he’d wanted out of me.”

Story 1

This is the first story in a series of stories I find fun to write, and will maybe someday add to. If you really want to, feel free to use them as writing prompts for yourself.


Ghosts

Kya cried out in alarm as the hulking figure rose up before her. She backed away until her foot caught a root, and she fell to the ground. It was over. She knew it. She was going to die in the forest by the hands of a stranger. Kya should have known better than to wander off alone in the woods. The stranger had been popping up everywhere for the last week. She curled into a ball and closed her eyes as the stranger stepped out of the shadows toward her. Tears were streaming from her pinched shut eyes.

“Kya?” the stranger asked softly.

The voice haunted her. She hadn’t heard that voice in years. Blinking her eyes open, she peered out at the stranger. She couldn’t speak.

He pulled her off the ground and hugged her tightly. “I had to be sure it was you.”

Kya’s voice cracked out. “Trevor? But . . . but . . . you’re supposed to be dead.”

(Branded) I

Here is a little something me and my friends have been working on. We don't really know what's happening so some of the details clash. Nikki Melanie Heather


I rounded the corner only to find a chain link fence blocking me. But I didn’t have time to pause. With a ferocity I didn’t know I had, I threw myself at the fence. As I did, a melancholy thought struck me. Why was I there? What did I expect to find? I’d known my time was limited. But that didn’t make me feel any better. Just a little more time, I pleaded silently. Just one more solitary hour.

But alas, no. I was stuck inside. I’d been able to pretend I was a normal person living a normal life. Pretend I wasn’t one of the “Unclean.”

“What are you doing?” a voice called from behind me.

I spun around quickly, expecting to see the Watchers, but it was Rick.

“What are you doing? You aren’t even supposed to be here!” I snapped angrily at my little brother.

“Oh, and you are?” he countered. I turned away in shame, thinking of how I could get away without involving my brother. It wasn’t him that had a problem with the strict schedules and so-called life that all of us stuck within the chain fence were forced to live by. There was nothing wrong with us, and yet they insisted that there was.

“Don’t leave.”

I turned back to Rick only to see his eyes glassed over with unshed tears. With a sigh I walked up to him and pulled him into a hug.

I put my hand on his shoulder and made as if to go with him home. Something caught my eye. Two bright blue eyes were watching me from the foliage. My fantasy was over. Time to get to reality. Accept my “uncleanliness.”

When I glanced over my shoulder, the eyes were gone. I released a shuddering breath. He was gone. It was for the best.

“What’s wrong?” Rick asked.

“Nothing,” I said with a sigh.

I hated that place. Eyes always watched. No privacy. No secrets. Someone must have let it out that I was leaving again, or trying to. But who would let it loose? Josie, Kyle, Eric? None of them would, but someone had to.

‘I have to get out of here,” I thought after Rick had gone to his room. There had to be a way. With a heavy heart I sat down on the chair closest to me. My eyes wandered around the place I’d called home ever since I was seven. Plain cement walls were devoid of any imperfection. A rule we were forced to live kept all pictures or personal belongings locked up in a chest at the foot of a bed —my bed to be precise, so the floor and table were completely clean.

Everything was regulated. The Watchers made sure of that. Every choice that should have belonged to us didn’t. That privilege was taken from us after the war.

I pushed myself off the couch with a shove. “I’ll be back in a sec,” I called to Rick as I walked outside. I went a few feet in front of our home and closed my eyes. If I was like this, I could almost pretend I was outside. I released a sigh and began to turn away.

A sudden commotion down the road brought me about. A group of teens my age were running up the lane. I immediately knew what they were. They were Perfects.

Behind them I could see the Watchers giving chase. I couldn’t move. They began to flash by me. I met the eyes of one of them and was startled to see that they were the same eyes I’d seen outside.

The boy met my glance, and last second, snatched my hand, dragging me along. “Come on,” he laughed. I felt panicked. Rick’s face peered at me from the window. His shock matched mine. And I was gone, with the strange group of Perfects, and the even more strange blue-eyed boy still holding my hand.

The group ran on, Blue-Eyes dragging me behind him. The group was laughing as the distance grew longer between them and the Watchers.

Blue-Eyes darted around a building with me in tow. He pushed me up against the wall and covered my mouth.

I heard the Watchers run past the building. Blue-Eyes smiled and then released me, but stayed close, his hand resting on my shoulder. He was a full foot taller than me. So I found myself staring at his chest. I took an interest in his shirt. Not only because it hugged his torso in a way that showed off his muscle, but the color was a shockingly warm brown. It was nothing like the dead scratchy color we Unclean had to wear almost every day.

“I think it’s safe to leave now,” the boy’s voice pulled my attention up to his face, “don’t you think?” I recognized the tone he was using as sarcasm, yet another thing I’d been robbed of.

His laughter rang out again as my face turned bright red. Sadly, it was probably the only thing about me that had any color. My drab, nearly colorless, brown hair fell limply on my shoulders. My ugly brown eyes matched it perfectly. I dropped them in embarrassment. What was he doing here? Why did he drag me here with him? Wasn’t he afraid my uncleanliness would rub off on him?

I glanced up at him before dropping my eyes again. His golden blond hair gleamed in the sunlight. He had a small dimple on his cheek when he smiled. That was another thing. He was smiling. It’s been so long since I’d seen genuine happiness. He really was a Perfect. I was an Unclean.

“Sure,” I mumbled in response.

I tried to walk away, but his grip only tightened. His eyes bore into mine, as if he was searching my soul.

“Let go of me,” I said casting my eyes down. “I need to get back to my little brother.”

He sill failed to let go of my shoulder. I panicked and did the only defense move I knew against a boy. Soon he was on the ground moaning and I was running back to my “home.”

I opened the front door, flung myself through the opening, and slammed the door behind me. My back was facing the main part of the house so I didn’t see Rick as he walked up to me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tired. When I turned to face him, I could tell that he’d been asleep before I’d so rudely woken him.

I kneeled down in front of him and took his hands in mine. “I’m sorry. Were you sleeping? I didn’t mean to wake you.”

A knock sounded through the house. I felt a nervous sweat break out on my back. The Watcher’s must have seen me with the Perfect. The consequences of such a thing would be disastrous. They would take me away and Rick would be left on his own. I couldn’t move.

The knock resounded again. I knew I couldn’t ignore them. Slowly, I shuffled to the door and eased it open.

I leapt back in shock. Blue-Eyes was standing there, casually leaning against the frame. I went to slam the door closed, but he’d lodged his foot in the way. He reached out a hand and easily reopened it.

I backed away in fear as he sauntered in and closed the door behind him.

“You know,” he said smugly, “you have pretty good defense.”

As he crept forward, I grabbed Rick and put myself between Blue-Eyes and him.

“Please, just leave us alone,” I begged, my voice quivering.

Blue-Eyes stopped and looked at me with surprise. Slowly I started to back away. What did he want? I considered calling for help, but I would be the one in trouble for being with a Perfect. I was on my own.

“No, no, no,” he said putting his hands up. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to talk to you.”

I stopped, but didn’t drop my defensive stance. “Why would you want to talk to me?” I asked. “I’m just one of the Unclean.”

The pain that appeared on his face after I’d spoken made me want to walk up and comfort him. But I didn’t. I still didn’t trust him. I couldn’t. His kind were the ones that had locked the Unclean away. At least, that is what I kept telling myself. The Perfect took a step closer towards me and Rick, and in response I pushed Rick into the next room. I made to follow him, but a hand on my wrist stopped me.

“Wait, I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.” He slightly tightened his grip on my wrist to keep me from pulling away. When he spoke again his voice had returned to the same teasing tone he’d used before. “Besides, where would you run off to anyway?”

I turned to see a smile on his face — a smile that made his blue eyes shine in a way I’d never seen.

“My name’s Joshua.” He slowly released my hand, as if being on a first name basis made me feel comfortable. “What’s yours?”

I did not feel comforted. There was no way I was going to tell him my name. But before I could catch my mouth up with my brain, I heard myself blurting, “Sam.” Would somebody please kill me?

His blue eyes glittered. “Sam? Isn’t that a boy’s name.”

My cheeks flared and I felt very self-conscious. “It’s short for Samantha,” I mumbled. I felt a sudden flash of irritation. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” I asked curtly.

Josh stood for a moment, thinking.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said quietly.

At first I wondered why, but then I felt my guard go up. What would a Perfect want with me?

“Sorry!” Josh said quickly. “I probably shouldn’t end a sentence like that.” He shifted awkwardly. “Like I said, I’ve been watching you for a while now and well . . .there is something different about you.”

Now it was my turn to shift awkwardly. “What do you mean?” I asked.

He sighed and said, “I don’t know. You’re now like the other Unclean. You seem perfectly . . . well, perfect.”

“Should I take that as a compliment?” I asked, looking down so he couldn’t see the blush on my cheeks.

He took a step closer, and I took a step back when he reached his hand to touch mine. “ I don’t know why you seem different, but just watching you . . .,” his voice faded away. When he continued his brow was furrowed in concentration. “You always look outside the gate. Your behavior isn’t like the other Unclean, and after hearing that the Watchers could have made a mistake—.”

“Wait! What?” I interrupted, “The Watcher’s made a mistake? When? How?”

He paused and watched me before continuing, cautious now. “It’s been found out that the Watchers have locked up Perfects and made them Unclean. No one knows why. But rebellion forces have started showing up here and they’re attempting to free the Unclean.”

“But . . . but . . .,” my mind whirled around in search of something to grasp onto in the chaos of my thoughts. “How could there have been a mistake?”

I was an Unclean. It was one of the only things I was sure of. I knew it surely as the sky was blue and the grass green. I couldn’t breath.

Joshua must have seen it in my face. He caught me as my legs gave way. He led me gently to the couch and sat me down. I took deep breaths as my brain tried to overheat.

A knock on the door echoed in my eardrums. Seconds later it slammed open. In walked a Watcher.

He signaled behind him and five more stormed the room. They couldn’t do anything to Joshua; he was a Perfect. But I had broken the rules.

Some of the men grabbed me and dragged me towards the door. Joshua tried to get to me, but the other guards held him back. The last thing I saw as they pulled me outside was Rick’s horrorstruck face peering through the door.

“No!” I heard Rick scream. The sound pierced my heart. Rick was going to be all alone. I knew what happened to the Unclean when the broke the rules.

Joshua ran to catch up with the Watchers. The guards held him back, but did not hurt him. He may be breaking the rules, but he was still a Perfect.

“What has she done?!” he shouted at the Watcher leading the way.

Simultaneously the group stopped. The guards holding me gripped me tighter. The leading Watcher turned towards Joshua and walked slowly up to him.

“She,” he said, “has tried to escape. Such actions are not tolerated here at the Waste.”

Joshua stared the Watcher down. Anger and hate seemed to radiate from his eyes, but he said nothing.

The Watcher turned back to me. “Samantha Grey,” he said calmly. “What do you have to say about these accusations?”

My mind tried to wrap around the situation at hand. I knew I had to respond fast otherwise I could be punished for not speaking when spoken to. Without thinking I blurted out, “I never planned on escaping.” I had meant to keep my tone calm, but it came out more hysterical.

The leading Watcher took a menacing step closer to me and I shrunk back as far as I could as he leaned closer to me.

“Plotting were we?” He practically hissed, “a much worse punishment than escaping.”

My hear thudded in my chest. “I was just looking,” I whispered weakly.

He gave me a malicious smile. The men started dragging me away again. Joshua demanded they let me go as he hurried along beside us. The Watchers wouldn’t respond or make eye contact with him. Why would they want to? He was their better. He was what they were trying so hard to become. I would have joined the Watchers myself if the thought of being one of them didn’t make me ill.

Ignored, Joshua became increasingly angry until finally, he stopped walking altogether. I looked at him anxiously over my shoulder, and saw him turn and run in the opposite direction. My breath caught in my throat as my only ally disappeared.

Looking forward again, I saw the Watcher’s headquarters looming over me.

The cold iron doors creaked open. A burst of blistering cold air rushed through me. As we walked through the dimly lit hallway, the doors closed with a resounding thud.

I could feel the darkness all around me. Our footsteps echoed down the hall. My heart sped up the deeper we walked. Soon the lead Watcher stopped and opened a door. The guards walked to the door and then threw me through the door. As I struggled to regain my balance, I heard the door slam shut. As I turned to look at my new “home,” I was the lead Watcher. I stood my ground, but my hands shook with fear.

“Please, have a seat,” he said calmly.

I spun around to see what he was talking about, and saw the table and chairs. Cautiously, I took my seat on the far end of the table. The Watcher took the other chair opposite of me.

“Now,” he began, “now, we can talk.”

I could feel my hands sweat as the Watcher stared at me, waiting, almost willing me, to speak. My throat felt dry and each time I tried to swallow it felt as if I had to cough. Trying to disguise my fear as nonchalance, I looked around the room.

The walls were made of a silver metal that seemed to absorb all the light in the room and reflect it at the center of the table. There were no mirrors, windows, or doors. In fact, the only décor in the room was the table and two chairs.

The Watcher cleared his throat and sat back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.

“As you can see,” he explained, gesturing at me with his hand, “you aren’t tied up. You can freely move about the room, but you will never be able to escape this building . . .,” he paused, “you will NEVER escape, unless you cooperate with me and tell me what you were doing by the barrier.”

Still, no words could escape my mouth. I could feel the Watcher’s impatience as second after second ticked by. Eventually, he stood, so abruptly that I jumped nearly toppling over my chair.

“Very well,” he hissed, walking over to the wall, “we’ll see how you fare after a few days in quiet solitude.” With this, he knocked on the wall, and a door was pushed open, materializing from the smooth metal. The Watcher gave me one last hate filled glance before stomping out of the room.

I rested my head on the table and my breath came out in a short hiss of frustration. I knew I shouldn’t have lingered by the fence.

My emotions and thoughts swirled through me as if I were a blender on high. I was surprised they hadn’t been angry at me for talking to a Perfect. I was worried about what would happen to Rick because of my stupidity. I was also angry at myself.

Amid the blended mess, my mind kept returning to what Joshua had revealed before the Watchers arrived. There had been a mistake. How could there have been a mistake?

In my head, I clearly saw that fateful day all those years ago . . . The war was lost. Father was dead. Mother was missing. I could hear Rick crying in the other room. I wanted to comfort him, but I lacked the energy to do anything. The door crashed open and soldiers poured in. Our parents were deserters. We were being relocated to somewhere special. Somewhere they could keep a close eye on us. As they put us into the truck, I looked out and my eyes met those of the small blue-eyed neighbor boy next door.

I gasped and came back to myself. Only now I remembered my best friend from before. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. I closed my eyes, and floating before me was the one and only, blue-eyed Joshua.

Wench

“Wench!” an angry voice rang out among the cacophony of the glitz and glamour of a riverside tavern. Natalie’s face burned in shame as she made her way through the maze of tables and legs. The “customer” was impaired. Anyone with eyes could tell. Natalie personally knew he’d already had seven tankards of ale. She’d brought each of them to him herself.

She set the refilled tankard in front of him and made as if to leave. The man grabbed her wrist, preventing her escape. He pulled her towards him and smiled down at her. Natalie had to force herself not to gag as his awful breath filled her.

“What do you say we go find ourselves a cozy little room,” he slurred.

She made herself to look him in the face. “I don’t think so,” she responded with forced patience.

He gave a low laugh deep in this throat. “I don’t think you understand, sweetheart,” he rumbled. “I wasn’t askin’ your opinion.” He smiled revealing his toothy grin.

Natalie’s face flushed but she was determined hold her superior attitude. “Let go,” she said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully.

“And what if I don’t?” the man asked jovially.

Natalie’s response was cut off as a newcomer entered the bray, “I believe she said let go.”

Natalie’s heart began to pound even harder than it had previously been pounding. Natalie looked over her shoulder at the speaker, and sure enough, it was Michael; tall blond-haired, green-eyed, perfect in every way, Michael.

Mr. “customer” was angry at this intrusion. He slipped his free arm around Natalie’s waist and held her against him. “This is man’s business boy. Go home and play with your dolls,” he smirked at his own joke.

In an instant, Michael’s sword was out of its scabbard and three centimeters away from the man’s throat. Natalie felt the eyes of the entire tavern resting upon their little threesome.

“Let go!” Michael growled. It was a quiet sound that could be easily heard in every corner of the room.

Natalie felt the man’s grip on her lessen as he was mesmerized by the sword. That was enough for Natalie. She jammed her elbow just above the man’s bulging belly into his rib cage.

She was instantly released as the man doubled over. Unluckily, Michael had seen the plan calculating behind my eyes and had moved the sword so as to not slice the man’s neck. Michael used his free hand to grab my arm and pulled me away from the man who was beginning to stand up straight.

“Now get out!” Michael hissed, replacing the sword on the man’s throat.

Even in his drunken stupor, the man saw the wisdom in this. He backed up and stumbled to the door and out. Michael sheathed his sword and gripped my arm, leading me to a back room while the tavern patrons returned to their drinks and conversation.

Natalie turned on him when they were alone. “I was doing fine without your help,” she glared at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

Natalie was about to make another retort when the intensity of his green-eyed gaze caught her off guard. She looked down at her feet. “I’m fine,” she whispered softly. She didn’t realize she was crying until he used a gentle finger to wipe them away.

“This can’t keep happening, Natalie,” he began. “This is the third time you’ve been attacked this month.”

“It’s not like I have a choice. I’m stuck here as long as papa owns the tavern,” Natalie sighed and gazed off into the distance.

Michael looked at her long and hard. Finally he spoke, “Natalie, I—.”

“NATALIE!” a new voice called, cutting him off.

Natalie gave him a weak smile, “Papa beckons.” She turned and walked out the door, leaving him by himself in the room as she went back to her work.

Natalie sank into a chair and rested her head on her folded arms as the last of the patrons disappeared out the door.

She hated her life. Working in a riverside tavern with people constantly jeering at her was not enjoyable. What happened today had been a perfect example. But luckily her friend since childhood, Michael, had taught her some self defense moves so she could handle rowdy drunks. While she had told him about every incident, today was the first time he was there when it happened.

A grunt came from behind her. Natalie raised her to see her father staring at her with his signature glare. In one hand he held a sack of horse feed. “Those horses aren’t going to feed themselves,” he grunted, dropping the bag on the ground before returning to the kitchen.

Natalie stood up wearily and hefted the heavy bag over her shoulder. She stumbled across the floor and out the door to the stables. She began her trek to the stables when a hand reached out of the shadows of the tavern and clapped over her mouth.

Natalie swung the bag of feed from her shoulder, attempting to hit the person. The person ducked and maneuvered so her back was pressed against them. “Stop!” he hissed as Natalie fought to escape. “It’s me!”

Natalie stopped fighting. “Michael! Why would you do that? You scared me half to death!”

Michael released her and she spun on her. She opened her mouth to say more, but he silenced her, with a kiss.

He pulled away and Natalie found herself utterly speechless.

“Natalie,” he started hesitantly before rushing on, “seeing what I saw tonight really scared me. It made me realize I wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything bad happened to you.”

Natalie regained herself and nonchalantly shrugged off his concern. She had no idea what to make of this new development. “Nothing is going to happen to me,” she assured him.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “that’s because I’m taking you away from here tonight, forever. Away from this tavern and your father and all those people who want to take advantage of you.”

If Natalie was speechless before, now she was dumbfounded. She had not seen this coming. Running away with Michael was an idea she’d never even considered. Who would ever want a wench? Even though Michael was always there, Natalie had never let herself entertain the idea of somebody actually wanting her. And there was no way she could leave her little brother, Gabriel. He would be left here to deal with father all on his own. Now here was Michael, asking her to run away, and it struck her completely blindsided. He couldn’t be serious.

Natalie became angry. What a mean joke to play on her. “Go away,” she said, her voice trembling and angry tears pooling in her eyes.

Michael stepped back as if he’d been slapped. A look of shock and hurt was written across his face.

“You’re a horrible friend, you know that right?” Natalie turned away from him. She picked up her bag of feed from where it had dropped to the ground and stomped off in the direction of the stable, barely noticing the weight. She saw Gabriel’s silhouette standing in the doorway to the stable. He stood with his mouth hanging open.

When she reached the stable door, she looked over her shoulder to see that Michael hadn’t moved an inch. His face was contorted in hurt and confusion. Why was he still playing? Didn’t he realize he was tearing her heart in two?

Suddenly, Natalie found herself wanting answers. She dropped the bag at Gabe’s feet and stormed back over to Michael. “Stop!” she hissed. Standing only a foot away now, she banged her fist on his chest.

To her surprise, the blow made him fall to the ground. She was too angry to care.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she demanded, standing over him.

“Natalie,” he began, his voice laced with confusion, “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t even pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she yelled at him, not caring how late it was. “Why play such a cruel joke on me?”

Michael’s confusion cleared and he stood up. “Natalie, I’m not—,” he tried, but she cut him off.

“You know what, Michael? I don’t care. You’re just a jerk. I can’t believe I wasted so many years on you.” Tears began to course down her cheeks and she ran towards the stable.

Michael was able to reach her after only a few steps. He grabbed her arm and spun her so they were face to face. He wrapped her hands up in his. “You know me better than that Natalie. You know I wouldn’t play a joke like that on you. I love you Natalie. I always have. It just took me until today to realize it. And you know what?”

Natalie shook her head.

“If all the love in the world could be contained on a grain of sand, all the beaches of the world would not come close to the amount of love I feel for you,” he begged her with his eyes to believe him. But when he looked at her, he could still see lingering doubt. “Please, Natalie, what can I do to make you believe me?” he asked.

Natalie took a shuddering breath and pulled her hands away from Michael’s. “Go away,” she repeated in a whisper.

Michael’s face fell.

“I . . . I just need some time to think is all,” she explained weakly.

Hope reentered Michael’s bright green eyes. He took he hand and raised it to his lips, planting a small kiss. “I will ever be waiting,” he whispered.

Before Natalie had a chance to reply, Michael was gone.

Natalie hugged her arms around herself in the chilly night air. Her mind was numb and she didn’t know what to think. A hand touched her arm. She spun, her heart beat wildly, but it was only Gabe.

“What’s wrong Nat?” he asked softly.

“Nothing,” she responded, but then felt the desire to tell him the truth. “Michael asked me to run away. Silly, huh?” she added with false levity.

Gabe looked at her for a moment. He was completely serious, “No, it’s not. Why didn’t you go with him?”

Natalie was shocked at his answer. “I could never leave you Gabe! Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

Gabe rolled his eyes, “Hmmm, maybe because you love him.”

Natalie opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Oh please,” Gabe laughed at her, “I’m your little brother. It’s my job to know everything about your love interests. Plus you made it like, not even hard.”

She joined in his laughter. “I guess maybe I do.”

Their gaiety came to an abrupt end as a new, eerily familiar voice reached them. “Well if it ain’t the wench. Looks like we’re gonna have some fun tonight boys.”

The voice sent a shudder through Natalie. A group of riffraff stood a few yards off in the direction of the road. At the forefront of the group was the man who had confronted her earlier. Despite his earlier drinks, right then he appeared completely sober.

Natalie took an involuntary step back, but found herself come to a stop as a giant man grabbed her from behind. She fought against him to no avail.

She had all but forgotten about Gabe until he started swinging his fists at her captor. “Let go of my sister!” he yelled, accenting each word with a punch. His efforts only caused all the men to laugh.

Natalie understood the severity of her situation, and knew that no amount of fighting would get them out of it. So, she did what any normal girl would. She screamed.

Everyone there, including Gabe and the man holding her, were startled by the piercing scream as it split through the still night air like a knife. Natalie’s captor immediately released her. She grabbed Gabriel’s arm and sprinted in the only direction open to them as her assailants regained their senses.

They were through the stable door by the time she heard yelling and pounding feet behind her. She quickly looked around the stable as she ran through it. “Hide Gabe!” she whispered urgently. He took off in the direction of their favorite nook from when they used to play hide-and-seek. The stable had no back door because papa didn’t want thieves to come in the night and steal the tavern residents’ property. She needed a hiding place that would buy her enough time for someone to heed her cry for help.

There! Gabe had yet to unsaddle one of the horses. Without startling the horse, she entered its stall and turned it sideways. On the side facing away from the door, she hooked one leg through a saddlebag and wrapped her fingers through the girth. Then, she raised her other leg off the ground and rested it on her other. In this position, she could not be seen from the door or the walkway separating the two halves of the stable’s stalls.

She was only barely in time pulling her leg up from the ground. Men pounded into the stable.
“Find her!” Tavern Man yelled at his men as he commenced overturning bales of hay. Natalie’s muscle’s strained to hold her up. Tears came to her eyes from pain but she held on tighter.
“There she is!” a voice called. It seemed to come from right above her. She tilted her head back and saw that a man was in the next stall pointing at her. While she couldn’t be seen from the walkway, the stalls to either side of her granted onlookers a perfect view. At least they hadn’t found Gabe.

Natalie tried to drop to the ground so she could avoid capture for as long as possible, but her foot caught on the saddlebag. Her head smashed into the ground. Spots danced across her vision. When they cleared, she saw Tavern Man standing over her, a wicked grin darkening his features.

A man burst into the stable, gasping, “Agar, somebody’s coming!” As if to confirm his words a voice reached them from outside.

“Natalie!” Michael yelled. Everybody in the barn froze.

Agar regained his senses the fastest. “What are you waiting for?” he shouted at the men. “Teach the whelp a lesson he won’t forget about sticking his nose in other people’s business!” The men acted immediately on his orders.

No! Natalie screamed in her head. Out loud she yelled, “Michael, run!”

Before she could get out any more, Agar slapped her face, leaving her stunned. Quickly and efficiently in a practiced move, Agar tied a length of rope around her hands and another around her feet.

To her ultimate horror, she saw Gabe approaching from behind Agar on soft feet. He was holding a length of metal he’d found like one would a baseball bat.

Agar saw Natalie’s eyes widen and spun around, seeing her brother. Before Gabriel had a chance to swing, a knife materialized in Agar’s hand and he stabbed Gabe in the abdomen.

Gabe let go of the metal and cried out in agony. He dropped to his knees and clutched his stomach. Great amounts of his lifeblood slipped over his fingers and he seemed to grow paler by the second.

“No! Gabe!” Natalie screamed, attempting tenfold to break away from Agar as he raised her to her feet.

Agar quickly formulated a plan and tossed her over the saddle like one would a dead animal. No matter how much she squirmed, she couldn’t make herself fall off. She continued screaming Gabe’s name as Agar took the horse’s reins and led it outside. Despite the Agar’s earlier behavior in the tavern, his recent actions had proved him to be a truly dangerous adversary.

What she saw outside lifted her spirits. Michael had used his sword to a great advantage. The ground around him was littered with unconscious men and still he fought on, trying to reach her. She truly did love him. She knew he’d be able to save Gabe.

“Michael!” Natalie screamed, trying to get his attention. He looked up as he collapsed the final man. “Go help Gabe!”

Michael didn’t listen, but started running toward her as Agar expertly mounted the mare. A hand from a man pretending to be unconscious reached out and grabbed Michael’s ankle, causing him to nose dive into the grass. The man was on him in an instant. He brought his club down on Michael’s head with a thunk. Michael’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he didn’t move.
Agar urged the horse to greater speeds, taking Natalie farther and farther away from Michael and Gabe.

Gabriel managed to crawl out of the stable. He saw Michael lying in the grass. He stumbled over to him and collapsed at his side, taking in huge gulps of air. Giant tears were running from his eyes. He did his best to wipe the blood off from one of his hands onto the grass before reaching out and shaking Michael’s shoulder.

“You have to wake up Michael,” he cried. “Please, Natalie needs you. She needs you! Wake up!”
Michael groaned and brought the heel of his hand up to rub his temple. He blinked his eyes open and looked at Gabriel, not comprehending. “Gabriel, what are you doing in my room?”

Gabe shook his head violently and grimaced in pain. “Focus, Michael! We’re not in your room. We’re at the tavern. That man just rode off with Natalie. He kidnapped my sister!”

Michael sat up with a jerk and looked frantically around him at the scene. Images of what had happened flashed across his mind’s eye. He saw Natalie’s captor riding away into the night. She really was gone.

The man who’d hit him must have run off into the night. Michael looked frantically at the faces of the unconscious, searching for any more fakers. From the looks of it, none of them were. But one of the men began groaning.

Michael crossed over to him and held a knife against his throat. The man’s eyes wearily opened. When he saw his precarious position, he froze and tried not to swallow as the knife pressed against his Adam’s apple. “Where is she?” Michael hissed.

Michael could see an eye forming in the man’s eyes.

He pressed the knife harder until it broke skin and a trickle of blood emerged.

Michael released pressure on the knife so the man could answer.

“Agar is taking her to the warehouse by the river,” he gasped. Michael could tell this was the truth.

“Which warehouse?” Michael asked curtly.

“The big one.” When he saw Michael’s expression he added in a rush, “The one with the horse on the front.”

Michael shoved the man to the ground and sheathed his knife. He set off toward the road then stopped. “You coming, Gabe?” he called over his shoulder.

There was no answer.

Michal spun around. “Gabriel?” He saw him kneeling on the ground with his arms wrapped around his middle.

He had a pure expression of pain etched on his pale face. He looked up at Michael and slowly took his hands from his stomach.

Michael gasped in shock as he saw the blood staining his arms and soaking his shirt. Gabe collapsed unconscious to the ground.

In an instant, Michael was at his side, tearing open his shirt. Only now, as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from the ugly wound, did Natalie’s plea process in his mind. Tying off a strip of fabric, Michael ransacked the stable until he was able to find a small first aid kit.

Quickly, he returned to Gabriel’s side. “Sorry Gabe,” he whispered as he took a needle and thread and quickly stitched the lips of the wound together. Using strips of fabric, he tied off the vicious cut.

“Sorry again, bud,” he grunted as he picked up Gabe and began running down the street through the night in the direction of his own house.

* * * * *

Natalie’s sides were killing her from bouncing up and down on the horse. Her throat had gone dry from screaming. Agar kept a tight hold on her so she couldn’t slide off the horse. Agar jerked back on the reins and the horse ambled to a stop.

He shoved Natalie off the horse. She hit the ground hard, and her vision swam. Stars twirled above her and the picture of a horse on a hanging sign swam in and out of focus to the left. Agar yanked her off the ground so hard that her momentum carried her until she was resting over his shoulder. From her position, she could only see the sweaty back of Agar’s shirt.

She heard laughter coming from down the lane. She tried screaming again. The laughter became louder.

“Whad’ve ya got there, Agar?” One of the voices slurred. Natalie realized they were drunk.

“I’ looks like a neuw trea’!” a different voice hooted.

Drunken laughter bounced off the walls. “Can we ‘ave it when yur finnershed?” A man yelled.

Natalie heard Agar muttering unkind things under his breath as stepped inside the horse building she’d seen before. The door slammed shut, and Natalie knew she was alone with him. She felt her skin break out in a cold sweat as he marched across the room. He plopped her down in the corner on top of a pile of flour sacks. All her breath left her in a grunt. She struggled to regain it as she examined her surroundings.

She was in a large warehouse. From what she could see, it appeared as though it was actually situated over part of the river. Boats bobbed gently in the water that consisted of at least one third of the floor. Other areas of the floor included various other piles of food sacks, barrels of fresh water, tools for boat repairs, a pile of dirty clothes, and a row of cots for sleeping. None of them was currently occupied. A giant door hanging over the river could be lowered by a hand crank that probably took five men to work. Her view was blocked off as Agar stood over her. He wrapped his meaty fingers around her upper arm, and dragged her close to him.

The smell of his breath was beyond words. It made Natalie want to throw up. “You’re mine,” he whispered. His free hand rested on her hip.

Natalie was too shocked and scared to do anything.

Suddenly, the main door creaked open and a man stumbled in, panting. Agar released her angrily and stomped in the direction of the newcomer. “Is the situation neutralized? And before you answer, know that the answer had better be yes.”

The man swallowed and looked down. “Yes, sir.”

Agar frowned. “You don’t seem confident in that answer.”

“I knocked him unconscious, sir¬─”

“Unconscious?” His eyes, already dark, seemed to darken further. “You didn’t kill him?”

“No, sir.” The answer was quieter than a whisper.

Natalie sensed the pending disaster. She turned her head away just as the gurgling sound erupted, followed by a thump as the man hit the ground. Natalie took a deep, shuddering breath. She looked up to see Agar standing over her. “You will be mine soon enough, but for now we must set the bait. Your little friend will come for you, and when he does, we’ll be ready and waiting. She looked to his hand to see him holding a rope.

* * * * *

Michael shouldered open the door to his small cottage. He laid Gabe down on his bed. The bright red had transformed into dark crimson. Carefully, Michael pealed away the crude bandages. Gabe flinched slightly, but remained in his sleep. Michael released a sigh of relief. The blood flow was now only a trickle. The stitches weren’t pretty, but they would hold. Gabe would be okay.

Gabriel blinked his eyes open. “Michael?” He looked around with his eyes. “Where’s Natalie?”

Michael’s expression told him everything he needed to know.

“You have to save her, Michael.”

Michael nodded and looked into his eyes. “Will you be all right here?” He wanted to go after Natalie, but he felt reluctant to leave Gabriel here alone with such a grievous injury.

Gabe’s eyes pierced him. “Go.”

An instant later, Michael was running through the cold, dark streets toward the warehouse district. Buildings flashed by. Michael didn’t take time to notice them. He was looking for a specific feature. The horse. He almost missed it.

The horse was painted directly onto the warehouse, and it was huge. The painting job was amateurish, and it only looked like a horse if one tilted their head to the side and squinted slightly. But it was a horse nonetheless.

He took a few giant steps in the direction of the building when something brought him up short. It was too quiet. Michael felt the wrongness of the situation, but couldn’t pinpoint the source. Michael stepped back from the door, and walked over to examine the horse from closer. He touched it lightly with his hand, and his fingers came away wet. The paint was fresh. Very fresh. Natalie’s captor was trying to trick him.

Running feet sounded from the direction he’d just come. Michael leaped into the small alley between two of the warehouses and pressed himself to the wall. He peered out carefully and saw a man run passed. He looked vaguely familiar. With a jolt, Michael realized it was the man from the yard he had interrogated.

On silent feet, Michael followed him along the warehouse district. The man came to a sudden halt in front of a large building. Michael ducked behind a barrel as the man checked to make sure he hadn’t been followed before disappearing inside the building.

Michael waited a minute, then two. When the man didn’t emerge, Michael approached the door. A sudden flurry of activity in a pile of wood next to the building brought him up short. A car leaped out from behind the wood, but Michael paid it no mind. Glancing around, he stepped towards the pile to confirm his suspicions. Indeed it was the remnants of a newly torn down sign. The pieces rearranged themselves in his mind, and he blatantly saw the horse. Michael knew that this was his building. He also knew that the man was inside, probably waiting for him in the off chance that he hadn’t taken the bait laid out for him at the other building. He wouldn’t be expected, and Michael would use that to his full advantage.

With a quiet hiss, he unsheathed his blade. He threw open the door to the warehouse and positioned his sword at the ready. The man jumped up in shock from his position on the ground. He fumbled awkwardly at his side for his own blade. From his viewpoint, Michael could see Natalie bound to one of the posts on the far side of the room. A gag was in her mouth muffling her words. When she saw him, she began screaming at him and desperately trying to break free from her bonds.

“Get out now,” Michael hissed at the man, “and I’ll pretend that I never saw your ugly face here.”

The man was still for a second. He then sheathed his sword in a hurried fashion and fled by Michael into the night.

Michael sheathed his own sword and ran across the room to Natalie. He dropped to her side, and pulled a smaller knife from his belt. With a quick but controlled sawing motion he began cutting at her bounds. Natalie continued to struggle just as hard, if not harder, than she had been before.

“Calm down, Natalie,” he ordered as he attempted not to cut her wrists. “We have to go now before they figure out I didn’t fall for their ruse.”

Natalie stopped struggling, but glared at him until he removed her gag. “No Michael! You don’t understand! They led you here! This is the trap! You have to leave!”

Michael absorbed that for a second. Had they really led him here? Had it all been part of the plan? Now that Natalie had stopped moving, Michael commenced hacking at the ropes with his knife. “I’m not leaving without you!”

Her bonds fell away and Michael raised her to her feet. Right before they reached the door, it slammed shut and a bellowing laughter filled the air around them.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you get away that easy did you?” the voice laughed. The voice seemed to come from everywhere so that Michael couldn’t locate the source.

He felt Natalie press herself up against him. Glancing at her face he noticed how pale it was. “He’s here,” she whispered, her voice shaking with fear.

Michael looked at the room at large. “Show yourself, coward!” he shouted.

Instantly, a sharp pain flared through his left side, and he found himself falling forward to the ground. Natalie cried out as she was torn away from him.

Michael attempted to push himself up, but his hand shot to his side as the sharp pain reached him. Warm blood ran over his fingers, and Michael found that his sword in it’s sheath had been cut away. Natalie’s scream cut off abruptly. A foot pressed down in the small of Michael’s back. Michael gritted his teeth as his face met with the cold stone ground.

He turned his head as far as it would twist from that position. The man who had started this all was standing above him, his foot still pressing down on Michael’s back. He had one hand clamped over Natalie’s mouth. The sword he’d used to down Michael was replaced nicely in its scabbard. His other hand was holding Michael’s sword, sheath and all, into the air. The man smiled down at Michael with a look of irritation pasted on his face.

“You really are making this too easy, boy,” the man commented lightly. With a quick flick of his wrist, Michael’s sword clanged against one of the boats before disappearing into the depths of the river.¬¬ “How disappointing,” he sneered. Without another word, he turned on his heel, and, dragging Natalie along, made his way toward the boats.

“No,” Michael hissed. Even if he were able to make it to his feet, they would still be too far out of reach for him to save her. Michael climbed to his knees and looked around for something to use to his advantage. Before him he saw the crank used to raise and lower the door. He wouldn’t even be able to operate it without a second man due to the nature of the machine. Even if he had the second man, they would not be enough to control the massive door. But maybe Michael didn’t need to be able to control the door. Maybe he simply needed to set it free. Michael pulled a small knife from his boot and began cutting the ropes.

Natalie was tossed into the small skiff as if she were a rag doll. Agar plopped down next to her. Using yet another rope, he tied her wrists together, and looped the rope around his foot a few times. Natalie was left with no choice but to lie on the floor of the skiff. Agar picked up the paddles and began rowing toward the opening. Natalie shed a few tears as she thought about poor Michael bleeding to death as well as her own bleak fate.

They had almost reached the river beyond when the door suddenly fell down from above. The door splintered and broke at the force of its fall. Agar didn’t have time to react as shrapnel rained down on them. A large beam landed on the Agar and smashed their boat. Natalie, her hands still tied uselessly around Agar’s ankle, found herself sinking under the water, burdened by the weight of the dead man.


“Michael!” she managed to scream one final time as her head slipped under the water.

Michael scrambled to his feet in a rush of adrenaline. The injury didn’t matter right then. It was something to be dealt with later. Taking a hard run, he dove into the water in the direction of the wreckage.

Everything was silent under the water. Silent and pitch black. Michael had to rely on his initial direction and stick with it. His hands met with the ground. He used it as a guide and followed it toward the door. His head with what was left of the door, and he had to make a decision of which way to follow it. Michael could feel his breath burning inside him. He released a few precious bubbles, knowing it would help him last longer in the end. He went left. In seconds his hands bumped against the body of the man.

Michael desperately followed along his body until his hands met Natalie’s own. They were limp. Michael cut away her ropes with one vicious swipe that cleaved them apart. He wrapped his arms around her waist and launched himself toward the surface.

It was closer than he had expected, only 15 or so feet. When they hit the air, Natalie became reanimated, and sucked in great amounts of air. Michael gently swam them toward solid ground. They both collapsed on it in relief and rested quietly as they got their breath back.

Natalie glanced over at him at the sound of tearing fabric. She saw Michael propped up on one elbow, awkwardly trying to wrap the crude bandage around his cut.

Natalie sat up and knelt next to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down, and took the cloth from his hands. “Let me,” she said quietly. She pushed the bottom of his shirt up so she could have full access to the wound. Her fingers danced lightly over his skin as she wrapped the fabric under and around him, finally tying a knot at his right side.

Taking a deep calming breath, she went to lift her hands away. Before she could, though, Michael reached up and snatched her wrist, holding her in place. An intense look of pain was on his face, and Natalie somehow knew it wasn’t from the cut.

“Natalie,” he moaned. “Natalie, I can’t¬―” he cut off abruptly. With a rough jerk on her wrist that Natalie realized she didn’t mind in the slightest, he brought her face to a point where it was only inches above his. Natalie gasped as his intense green eyes bore into her. “I can’t live without you, Natalie. Will you marry me?”

“Michael . . .” She wanted to say yes. Her whole heart screamed at her to say yes. Being as close as she was to him made it hard to think, but one thought blared through the fog. “Michael, I can’t. I can’t leave Gabriel here alone. I’m sorry.” Saying his name reminded her of his dire situation the last time she’d seen him. “Oh my gosh! Gabe! Is he alright?!” Natalie moved to sit up, but Michael held her tight.

“Gabriel is fine. He’s at my house recovering.” Michael’s eyes were unreadable. “I never said anything about leaving Gabriel here, Natalie. Of course we can’t leave him here to deal with your father alone. Plus, it’s never a bad thing to have a babysitter hanging around to your beck and call.”

Natalie’s eyes glistened. “Do you really mean that, Michael?”

His eyes never broke contact with his as he nodded.

“Yes! I would love to be your wife!”

In a single move, Michael had laid Natalie out on the ground and was leaning over her, plastering her face with kisses. “You’ve just made me the happiest man that ever existed.”

Outside the sun was just rising over the horizon.

(1619) Section 2

When it came in sight, Elizabeth felt dread curl in her stomach. She could see her mother pacing back and forth in front of the window. Elizabeth knew there would be no chance to sneak in and clean up before facing her. Elizabeth took a deep breath and walked calmly towards the house, brushing off her dress as she did so.

Her mama happened to glance out the window. A second later, the front door swung open. Every inch of her mother was etched in fury. “Elizabeth Miller! Where have you been?! Just look at the state of you!”

Her mother stepped aside as Elizabeth walked inside. The door slammed shut behind them.
“Well?” her mother demanded, her foot taping in that annoying way.

Elizabeth sat down heavily on the chair.

“You were with that Foster boy again, weren’t you?!”

She didn’t give her a chance to answer.

“Elias,” she called, “I think it’s time!”

What?

Her father walked into the room and gave her a once over. He sighed, “Yes, Mary. I think you’re right.” He looked at Elizabeth. “Sit down sweetheart.”

She gave him a strange look. “I am sitting down.”

“Oh, yes, I see that.” He seemed flustered.

“What’s going on Papa?”

He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. “Sweetheart, what do you think about America?”

“That stupid land across the sea for greedy old men?”

“Yes.”

“What’s there to think about it?”

Mama decided she’d had enough beating around the bush. “Elizabeth, we are sending you on the next ship to America. It leaves in two days.”

Her mouth dropped open. “But . . . but . . . Papa!”

He nodded his affirmation.

“No,” she yelled, “I won’t go!”

“Yes,” Papa said softly, “you will.”

She looked at him for a moment, aghast, before leaping from her chair and running outside.
“She’ll be back,” She heard him say as the door slammed behind her. The sad part was she knew she would be too.

She didn’t know where she was running to, only that she had to get away. As she ran down the lane she saw someone walking towards the farm, but through her blurry vision she was unable to identify who it was.

She heard the person call her name as she rushed by. It was David. He was the last person she wanted to talk to.

Elizabeth ran until she found herself in a field of flowers. She collapsed and cried some more as sobs tore through her body.

Next thing she knew, David was lifting her from the ground and wrapping his arms around her. Elizabeth didn’t care anymore. She needed comfort.

She buried herself in his embrace.

“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?” he asked softly.

“America!” she screeched. “My parents are sending me to America because they don’t want to have to deal with me any longer!”

That shut him up. She continued crying and David held her tighter. His eyes shed a few tears as well.

*******

Two days later, Elizabeth stood with her parents in front of the ship. She was dressed in her finest cloak and skirts. A crewman had already taken her bag up. She didn’t see David anywhere. They hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. Without a word, she hugged her parents and walked onto the ship; into her nightmare.

Princess Story

Chapter 1
Allison sat cloaked in the back of the pub. It was Tyler’s night for entertainment. She watched silently from the shadows as he took the stage with guitar in hand. She wore the hooded cloak to hide her features from those who might take advantage of the fact that the beautiful princess had left the safety of the palace to hear a commoner sing.

Tyler looked out among the many girls that filled the normally empty pub; hoping beyond hope, that against all the danger, the princess might come to see him. Tyler felt that his hope was in vain. Whenever he attended the palace to play music for the royal family, Allison always seemed to hold herself aloof from him. But he couldn’t stop loving her.

Allison listened to the frantic beating of her heart as Tyler began to play. She didn’t love this boy, she tried to convince herself. He was a commoner who had never so much as second glanced her. Plus, he was always surrounded by beautiful girls. So why would he ever take notice of the ugly princess? It was common knowledge throughout the kingdom that the princess was beautiful. But she didn’t believe it because that’s not how she saw herself.

Beautiful music flooded over Allison. She grabbed at it, desperately trying to absorb it so she could have it with her even after she left to return home. When Tyler played, it seemed like everything was right with the world. Even the birds gave pause to listen. The sound seemed to cast a spell over the audience, taking them to another world.

Then it was over. Allison knew he had played for over an hour, but the time had seemed to fly by. The rest of the girls crowded to the stage, each trying to claim some part of Tyler’s attention. Allison stood up, and moved like a shadow to the door. She had to get home before anyone found out she was gone.

Tyler saw the fleeting movement in the periphery of his vision. He looked up just in time to see a cloaked figure disappear out the door, a shadow in the night. Tyler’s pulse quickened. Leaving his guitar on stage, he made his way through the sea of girls trying to reach the street. He couldn’t say why, but he knew that the fleeing figure was his princess.

Allison had a family that consisted of her parents, three older brothers, and herself. She was nowhere in line for the throne. Yet, the king and queen still insisted that she find a prince to marry. And now that she had reached the age of 18, her parents were starting to get frustrated with her indecision. But she couldn’t choose just any prince who came to woe, at least not while Tyler was still coming to the palace once a week to play music. But I don’t like him, she reminded herself. So why did you go to hear him? a quiet voice whispered in the back of her mind. She pushed the thought away.

Allison, lost in her thoughts, made a wrong turn and ended up in an alley. She stopped in mid-step halfway down the alley, realizing her mistake. Dark houses lined the alleyway. An edifice to the evil things they witnessed. Even the light from the stars would not make a appearance in that dark place. It all served to plant a seed of fear into her heart. She hastened her step to reach the safety of the street beyond. Her heart skipped a beat as a large, blurry figure rose out of the shadows in front of her. She turned around and started running, tucking her head deeper into her cowl. She was faster than the drunken man, and started pulling ahead. Suddenly, two more figures appeared in front of her. Allison desperately pulled a knife from her cloak. She turned around to stab the drunken man running toward her.

The knife’s path was halted as a big hand caught Allison’s wrist mid-stab. Allison cringed as the hand started to squeeze. The knife slid soundlessly out of her hand before clattering to the hard ground. The man pulled her close and pushed back the hood. Long curly lock of hair tumbled down her shoulders. She struggled to pull away, but he only squeezed her wrist tighter and pulled her closer, curiously examining her features. Allison tried not to gag as she smelled alcohol on his breath. A gruesome smile lit his face, revealing eyes gleaming with wicked intent. He laughed cruelly, and she knew she’d been recognized.

“You look even prettier than everyone says, Princess! I bet you give one great kiss,” He leaned down close, his drunken breath assaulting her nose. For Allison, she felt that nothing worse could possibly happen. She had fallen into the clutches of a crazy drunkard, and worse still she’d been recognized. At this distance Allison could see a series of scars running across his face, from some previous fight.

Scar Face grabbed her chin with his vise-like grip. He tilted her head up and leaned forward for a kiss, despite her struggling. Allison reached for all the courage she could muster. As he got closer, she spit in his face.

The man’s smile was replaced by a scowl. He launched Allison backwards into the waiting arms of his two accomplices. They were ready and ripped the cloak away from her body, revealing her petite figure. They jerked her around to face Scar Face, who was once again, smiling. They held her still despite all her struggling.

Scar Face wiped the spittle from his face and started talking to the other two men, Goon 1 and Goon 2. Ring Leader cleared his throat like he was making a speech, “Gentlemen, we have been fortunate enough to have had a jewel fall into our gutter.” He paused and looked meaningfully at his captured jewel, “Well, I think it’s time we spent it.” He looked at Allison hungrily, and her throat went dry.

Her breath started coming out in short, erratic bursts. The goons tightened their grip on her in anticipation. Scar Face pulled out a knife of his own. He gently fingered the neckline of her shirt, as if in silent contemplation. Then, another horrible smile spread across his face. Her last vestige of hope slipped away, quickly buried by her mounting fear.

The knife made it’s way to her neck. Allison shrank back into the arms of her captors, avoiding the cold steel. The knife slid under her collar. She heard the tell-tale sound of ripping fabric.
Allison decided to use the last weapon left in her arsenal. She screamed.

* * * * *

Tyler finally made it through the mob inside the pub, and stumbled out into the crisp night air. He looked up and down the street desperately for his princess, but she was nowhere to be found. Anxiously, Tyler ran down the street in the direction of the palace, hoping he might overtake her. He tried to think of what he might say to her when they met up, but his mind drew up a blank. When he reached the end of the street, he stopped. He frantically searched again, but the street was bereft of life. He was about to give up hope when, a terrible foreboding griped him.
Nothing.

All was quiet.

A scream broke through the quiet revere that had settled over the night.

Tyler turned around, searching for the source of the scream, a scream from a voice he would have recognized anywhere. He saw an alley a short distance away. The scream was cut off as quickly as it had begun; leaving an eerie stillness hanging in the air. He started running as fast as his legs could carry him, feet pounding on the cobblestones. In the half light, he could just make out a commotion happening at the far end of the alley. The commotion came to a sudden stop as they heard the sound of pounding feet running towards them against the hard ground. Tyler froze as four figures seemed to melt out of the darkness before his eyes.

Tyler pulled his sword from it’s sheath. The sinister sound of steel echoed off the walls of the dark buildings.

His eyes feel on Allison and his heart skipped a beat at her state. Her curls were hanging in disarray and her cheeks were wet from the tears streaming down her face. One of the men standing behind her had a grimy hand clamped over her mouth. Her chest was nearly exposed from a cut in her shirt that extended from the top to a few inches above the bottom.

Tyler’s attention was diverted to the knifeman who had placed his weapon against Allison’s exposed neck. “Leave now or the princess dies,” the man iterated in a voice full of hatred.

Anger flared through Tyler’s body as he searched for a plan of action. Keeping his disposition calm, Tyler responded in a tight voice of consent, “Fine.” He turned around and started heading for the street, sliding the sword back in his scabbard as he went. Behind him, Allison’s muffled sobs intensified in volume. He walked 20 feet before checking to see that they were no longer watching him. He pulled a throwing knife out of its sheath at his waist and waited for the man to move the knife away from Allison’s body.

Allison watched in something near shock as her knight in shining armor walked away. Raking sobs tore through her body as he sheathed his sword. Scar Face stepped in front of her, smiling in obvious enjoyment at her distress. Allison closed her eyes and tried to still her sobs as Scar Face lowered his knife to knife to cut the last remaining inches of her shirt. She heard the sound of the last few inches tearing. The last few threads released, and Allison felt the shirt hang loose on her body. Now she was only one step away from total mortification. As soon as this man swept aside the fabric of one of the loose halves of her shirt, the rest of her life would be affected in one way or another. And not even her knight had tried to stop it.

Scar Face dropped the knife to the ground and hungrily reached for the scraps of shirt, the boy with the sword completely forgotten by his overwhelming desire. That was his mistake. A heavy thump reverberated through his skull from the back of his head where the hilt had struck. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed onto the ground. To the other men, it had appeared as though their leader had fallen at the hand of some unseen foe. They simultaneously threw Allison to the ground and sprinted in the opposite direction as fast as they could.

Allison had kept her eyes closed at the incoming horror, and had not seen the man collapse on the street. So she remained face down on the ground waiting for the next assault he had planned for her. She tensed as she felt someone kneel down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Allison,” she heard a soft voice ask, “are you alright?” Allison raised her head and found herself looking into Tyler’s deep brown eyes, his face etched with concern. She pushed herself off the ground into a sitting position, wrapping her cloak tightly around her exposed body. She was about to answer when an overwhelming wave of emotion erupted out of her. Her body had barely begun to shake when she felt Tyler’s arms cocoon around her.

Allison tried to speak, “I thought . . . I thought you . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Shhhhh,” Tyler whispered softly. “It doesn’t matter what you thought. All that matters is the fact that I’m here with you now. I would never abandon you,” he finished.

They sat together embracing for a long time after Allison’s tears had stopped. Neither of them wanted to break the closeness they’d probably never share again. A sudden groan broke through the prevailing silence. Allison recognized the sound as coming from the man a short distance away on the ground. She quickly wrapped her arms around Tyler’s neck, seeking whatever protection he could offer her. Tyler gently scooped her up off the ground, and carried her out of the alley. He kept walking until she finally relaxed her tense body. He carefully set her on her feet. She stepped away from him and looked at the ground. The moment was gone.

“Thank you for what you did back there,” Allison said quietly. She rushed on before he could respond. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this. ‘A princess must always look her best,’” she said it as if she didn’t believe it.

Tyler reached out for her hands, enclosing them firmly in his own. “Allison—,” he began to say, planning on telling her that he thought she was beautiful.

She cut him off, “I should go,” she said, judging the time by the position of the stars, “it’s late.” She slid her right hand from his and brought it to her mouth, letting out a piercing whistle. A short while later, they heard the pounding of hooves as a black stallion came around a corner and started down the lane towards them.

Allison started to pull away when Tyler suddenly turned her round to face him. Allison became aware of their close proximity and of how Tyler was still holding her hand in his own. His intense brown eyes once again held her captive. They seemed to swallow her up as his face edged toward hers. Tyler was inches away. Allison raised her face to meet his.

At that moment, complete awareness of what was about to happen raced through ever nerve in her body. Her brain started screaming at her, “You don’t like this boy! You don’t like this boy!”

She jerked away at the last possible second. The night seemed impossibly dark as she jumped onto her horses back. She sped off in the direction of the palace, leaving Tyler standing alone in the shadows.


Chapter 2

Tyler watched her disappear with a sinking heart and growing frustration. He turned around and walked back into the alley. The man was still groaning, but Tyler ignored him. He quickly found his knife and jammed it into its sheath. He looked hard at the ground, silently begging it to swallow him up. His eyes were drawn to a long knife sitting on the ground not too far away. Tyler curiously went over and lifted it up. He found the royal insignia emblazoned on the hilt. That’s when he knew it was Allison’s.

Tyler pushed all thoughts of her away and stowed the knife in his satchel. He left the alley and went back to the pub. The once crowded room had emptied since he’d gone. Tyler didn’t stop to acknowledge the bartender, but went straight to retrieve his guitar before sulking home.

The house was a simple cottage on the outskirts of the village. Tyler lived there with his dog, Bandit. When he walked through the door it seemed more empty than usual. He set his guitar aside and sat down at the table with his head in his hands. Wearily, Tyler replayed the night’s events in his mind. Allison had come to hear him sing, but that didn’t necessarily mean she liked him. Somehow she’d ended up in that alley and he had rescued her. So she was probably grateful to him, not in love with him.

And then he’d tried to kiss her. Tyler slammed his fist against table, a pained expression on his face. She probably thought he was some creeper, the same as those men who had almost . . . Tyler couldn’t bear to think about it. No wonder she had run away like that. Any minimal chance he might have had with her was now crushed. Tyler looked up at the weapons that lined the walls. He had practiced countless hours with them every day, so that, if the need arose, he might be able to protect his princess. First part of the plan had worked, so why had he tried to kiss her?

Tyler looked at the other wall; this one was lined with instruments. When he wasn’t weapons training, he was practicing his instruments in hope to one day win her heart. He realized he would never be invited back to the palace to play ever again after Allison told the king and queen what he’d tried to do. A huge source of his income would be gone because he’d tried to follow one stupid impulse.

Tyler stood up and walked outside to see the stars. His eyes were automatically drawn to two stars in the western sky, one dim and one bright. As a young boy, Tyler had labeled the bright one Allison, and the dim one as himself. Tonight, the stars seemed farther apart than they had ever been before. Tyler realized exactly how much of his life he’d devoted to a fantasy. He walked back into the house with new resolve. He would stop chasing after a dream. If she didn’t want him, so be it.

* * * * *

Tears streamed down Allison’s face as she rode through the silent city. She was almost amazed she still had tears to cry after all that had happened. Had he really almost . . .? Did he really just . . .? She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to marry a prince, not fall in love with a commoner. But I don’t love him, she reminded herself again.

She could see the palace looming closer. She brought her mount to a halt, and gracefully dismounted. They moved surreptitiously to the gap in the hedgerow she had long ago discovered, avoiding the guards at the gate. They secreted to the stables, where she gave the horse a quick rub down before heading to the palace. Allison moved like a shadow across the yard to her window, a skill she had mastered as a girl. There was a rope hanging out of it from when she had snuck out earlier. She started climbing, and soon she was over the window sill of her second-story room. She dropped lightly to her feet and glanced around her darkened room. Everything was the same as she had left it. She pulled up the rope and stowed it away. After quickly changing her clothes, she collapsed onto her bed.

Her mind couldn’t seem to comprehend what had transpired. Images washed through her head, threatening to overwhelm her. She tried to push her emotions away, but they kept coming back. How would she ever be able to face him again? He had saved her. And before she had even given him a proper thank you, she had run off. Tears began to stream unbidden from her eyes.

Prince Andrew was coming the next day. The queen had invited Tyler over to play background music while he was over. Her anger overpowered her. She hated being put on display like a package. She suddenly wondered why she had cried as she had over Tyler. “I don’t even like him,” she whispered to herself. Tomorrow she would say thank you properly and put the whole matter behind them.

* * * * *

Tyler walked through the front door of the palace cautiously. He had been surprised that the guards had let him by without a single word. Maybe the King and Queen wanted to punish him for the way he’d treated their only daughter. The thought flustered him. He couldn’t face the Princess after what had happened.

Since the event he was playing for was a dinner party, the servants had set up his harp behind one of the curtained off areas. That way, he would be heard but not seen. He took up his position at the palace harp warily. He had not yet encountered any of the royal family, and no one had barred his way. His fingers ran up and down the strings experimentally. The soft music filled the silence around him, bringing a smile to his lips. He wasn’t allowed to bring any of his own instruments to play. Tyler didn’t care. He loved the palace instruments. They were all of the very highest quality. He would never be able to afford even their mediocre imitations. The party was due to arrive to the dining hall any moment. He let go of his thoughts and fears the let the music take over.

Prince Andrew escorted frowning Allison into the room. He leaned close to her and whispered in her ear. “You could at least try and pretend you don’t hate me before I’ve had a chance to confirm or dissuade your opinion.”

Allison didn’t need to listen to him. Everything about him spoke volumes about who his was. The way he held himself said haughty. The countless number of rings on his fingers spoke of greed. And the way he had looked at her from the beginning screamed hungry. Even as he escorted her to her seat, he was holding her a little bit too close.

He sat down across the table from her as tradition dictated. He stretched his legs out carelessly. Allison had to practically turn sideways in her seat to avoid touching him. He talked about himself unabashedly. Allison added conceited to the list of things she hated about him. She didn’t even bother listening to what he had to say. Her three brothers were absorbed in their wives and her parents were talking merrily with Prince Andrew’s. Allison had a sick feeling in her stomach that she was not going to be happy with the result of their visit. The only thing that stopped her from standing up and walking out like she had with other suitors was Tyler. His music swirled around her, leaving her breathless. She had never felt quite like this when she’d heard him play countless times before. Allison blamed it on the fact that she was hyper aware of him because of their encounter the night before and her rude exit. She needed to talk to him as soon as possible to apologize for her behavior.

She ignored His Princeliness and lost herself in the music. To say she zoned out would be a massive understatement.

Someone tapped her shoulder. “Princess?”

Allison jumped. Prince Andrew was standing at her side. Everyone else had left the room. A shiver traveled up her spine.

“May I have this dance?” He didn’t wait for a reply.

Her arm almost jerked out of its socket as he yanked her to her feet. She slammed into his chest and he held her tightly there. “Let go of me,” she hissed at him.

When he smiled at her, she realized she was very, very scared. “Not a chance.” He started spinning her. She had to lean into him to avoid falling down. “That’s more like it,” he whispered into her ear.

Allison’s face flushed in embarrassment. She released her tight hold mid swing and went tumbling backwards to the floor. Her arm scraped against the stone floor and she forced herself not to flinch.

The prince immediately pulled her to her feet and attempted to resume the dance. Allison tore her hands out of his and shoved him away. “What’s the matter with you?!”

Anger glinted in his eyes. He stepped forward and gave her a shove of her own. “What’s wrong with me? I think the better question is what’s wrong with you?” He shoved her again. “You’re nothing but a spoiled brat princess who thinks she’s too good for the world!” Shove. She lost her balance and was back on the floor. In the back of her mind, Allison noticed the music had stopped. “That’s it isn’t?! You’re too good for Prince Andrew! I’ve never had any girly turn me down before, and I’m not going to start today!” He moved forward to shove her again, but found himself looking down the blade of a sword.

“I wouldn’t take another step if I were you.” Tyler’s voice was harder enough to shatter diamond.

The prince’s face turned pale. He swiftly backed away.

Without taking his eyes off of Andrew, Tyler stepped back and reached down to help Allison up.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

He looked over to smile at her. That was his mistake. The instant Tyler’s diverted his attention, Andrew unsheathed his knife and sent it spinning across the room. Tyler saw it coming too late. He only had time to push Allison behind him. Tyler caught the blade . . . in his stomach.

He gasped in pain and sank to his knees. Allison screamed. Andrew was advance with his sword drawn, fury was etched in ever line of his face.

Allison crouched down beside him. “Tyler!” she yelled.

Tyler weakly pulled himself free from her grasp. He stood and raised his sword. Even injured, Tyler was the far superior swordsman. With one strike of blade against blade, Andrew’s sword was knocked from his grasp. Tyler raised his sword to Andrew’s throat. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you!”

Force of will alone stopped Andrew from quivering.

“No!” Allison ran up and tugged on Tyler’s arm. “You can’t! It would be a declaration of war!”

Tyler didn’t make the mistake of looking at her again. He could barely stand as it was. He couldn’t afford to lose focus again. “This man has done nothing but disrespect you, Princess. I find that plenty of justification to go to war.”

She tightened her grip on him. “Please, Tyler. Don’t.” Tears were falling freely from her eyes. She stifled a sob.

Tyler couldn’t deny Allison anything. “Fine. He will not die today.” His next words were spoken to Allison, but directed at Andrew. “But if he fails to properly respect you ever again, I promise his life will come to a very abrupt end.” Tyler stepped back and lowered his sword.

They all turned at the sound of running footsteps outside the dining hall, brought by the sounds of Allison’s screams.

Andrew took advantage of the moment. At the same time, he pulled yanked Allison toward him and kicked Tyler away. For Tyler the pain was too much. He collapsed on the ground, his sword clattering a few feet off. Tyler curled in pain, his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. He’d already lost a lot of blood, and he was starting to feel the effects of it.

The two royal families came storming into the room. Andrew hugged Allison firmly; her face was pressed into his shoulder, preventing her from making any noise.

“What happened here?!” Allison’s father yelled.

“Dear King,” Andrew’s voice was dripping with lies, “you’ve come just in time. This man,” he pointed to Tyler, “attacked the princess. If it weren’t for me she would probably be dead.”

Andrew’s parents beamed proudly.

Allison and Tyler could say nothing in the latter’s defense. Tyler was too weak, and Allison, try as she might, she couldn’t fight free of Andrew’s grasp.

The kings’ face was red with anger. “Guards, take this minstrel to the dungeons immediately! He will be executed forthwith!”

Tyler could only cringe in agony as the guards dragged him away. Allison’s fighting became so rough that Andrew could not keep his hold on her.

“No!” she screamed. She ran across the room and threw herself in her mother’s arms. “No no no no NO!” Everything else she wanted to say was unintelligible due to the severity of her sobs.

Andrew joined them on the other side of the room. “She’s in shock,” he said by way of explanation. They all nodded their understanding.

“Dylan, could you take Allison to her room?” the king asked his eldest son.

Dylan nodded. He extracted Allison from the queen and carried her to her room.

The kind addressed Andrew. “Thank you so much for all you have done for our daughter, Prince. I don’t know what we’d do if you hadn’t been here.”

Andrew’s mother was overcome with pride. “I hear wedding bells!”

Everyone in the room smiled.