Children of the Memory

Children of the Memory

A Story by Sylph Drake

Title of the Week. Will continue to be added to.

   "'Cmon, sweetie, we're almost there." The woman whispered to her child.  The child was stumbling in the snow, but his mother could not carry it.  She was rapidly weakening, and the wound in her shoulder looked fatal.  Yet she kept going, somehow pressing on -- even encouraging her child as she stumbled along.
   I watched from the shelter of the shadows.  So this was a family.  I'd been alone since I could remember, but I'd read of them, hiding in the great, abandoned library in the mountains.  It was once, in fact, a school.
   I was alone.  I didn't remember anything in my life, but I remember countless tales of others.  Ironic.  Even as I watched a real tragedy begin to unfold before me, I couldn't resist a little laugh.
   The child heard.
   "M-um?" I could hear his teeth chattering in his voice.  He turned towards me, and I backed further into the shadows.  I could see the blue of his eyes from nearly 15 feet away, even in the dim light.  They glowed, and I remembered reading something about that showing some sort of power.  I could tell when they locked on me, he wasn't about to just turn and walk away.
  The woman turned to face me.  Pain, and desperation were etched into her features.
  "Whoever you are, please," her voice was strained and seemed desperate. "Please help us."
   "...Miss?"  the little boy stepped forward, I slid back, terrified.  The boy stepped back and looked down shyly.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you." he looked back up and said "Please, you have to help us!" his voice crackled.
   Reluctantly, I slid out of my hiding place.  He's maybe ten, and his mother is dying.  Who can say no to that kind of begging?
   "Follow me." I said.  My voice sounded strange, foreign even., compared to their desperate pleas.  I felt warm as the boys eyes brightened(literally) with newfound hope.
   They followed bravely, until the woman fell down.  I had to carry her the rest of the way, but I did it.  My fur coat was immediately soaked with her blood, but I tried my best not to notice.  It wasn't far.  I could clean the blood out when I got these two taken care of.
   I set the woman down when I reached my gate.  "Stay here." I said, before scaling the wrought-iron gate and dropping down on the other side.  I ran to the room where the gates could be opened, praying that the mechanism would still work.
   It did.  I heaved a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall.
   But I had a job to do.

© 2011 Sylph Drake

Author's Note

Sylph Drake
Kinda haphazard, but I like.

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cool. keep at it. It sounds good.

Posted 9 Years Ago

interesting. Have you put any of your work on the group writing? you should.

Posted 9 Years Ago

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2 Reviews
Added on April 9, 2011
Last Updated on April 12, 2011


Sylph Drake
Sylph Drake

A small town you've never heard of before, and never will again, ID

I'm a poet, an artist, and sculptor, but lately I'm mostly a fantasy writer. I'm highly satirical, and I tend to get a bit too far into my characters heads, so if it seems like another person is writ.. more..