Part One: A Grave Beginning - Chapter OneA Chapter by LadyLady Leon experiences a vivid and horrifying dream that describes both her painful past and motive for escape.
Previous Version This is a previous version of Part One: A Grave Beginning - Chapter One.
They were following her. She could hear their tormenting remarks in the distance, and if curious enough, a glance behind would reveal a scattered pattern of flaming torches. With her tiny child clutched against her, she ran, forcing her legs to carry them as far away as possible. The wind hissed past - an invisible current that, like the ocean, toyed with her, guiding her this way and that. Where are you going? I-I don't know. They are catching up. What will you do once running is no longer an option? I will hide. Where will you hide? She came to a struggled halt and began analyzing her environment. Towards a distant left stood a small clearing surrounded by the largest trees of the forest, specks of moonlight filtering in. For reasons she was unsure of, both mind and body felt drawn in. There… One hour earlier...
They had been confined in the rickety carriage since early nightfall - mother and daughter. They were safe, Lady Leon thought while her little girl slept in her arms, at least for now. She was tired of watching rows of blurry and endless pines dash by the tiny coach window, so she happily took comfort with the moon. As a witness to the evolution of its nature, she studied its gradual expansion and descent from the sky, admiring the way it illuminated their path, revealing every crook and wind as they coursed through the forest. Occasionally a moving shadow would lure her attention. It was behind the smoky pines she often found them lingering, taunting her with what appeared to be pairs of glowing eyes. They were stalking her, trailing her carriage at a distance, waiting for the absolute moment to attack. Wolves, she thought while shivering. They must be wolves. Waves of constant paranoia clashed against her, gradually eroding away her wall of energy; she hadn't slept in days, resulting with blurred eyes and a throbbing headache. Allowing her eyes to close, she focused on the muffled sound of the carriage wheels as they quickly turned through the small rocks and snow. It calmed her, pulled her wandering mind away from the darkness, and within moments she was asleep.
Lady Leon's
slumberous expression contorted as a hammering echoed through her ears. It wasn't long until Hewie and Jasper,
the master's large German Shepherds, joined in with their alarming howls. Her eyes opened, taking notice of the
master himself as he climbed out of bed. From the top of the
stairs with their child cradled in her arms, she watched as he gradually
made his way down the dark, endless staircase with a tiny candle in hand. Lady Leon followed his lead, concealing
her figure within his shadow.
A short distance ahead towered the grand entrance door, its wood surface
glimmering in the elegance of warm, soft candlelight. She watched as the
master extended an arm, resting the palm of his hand against the wooden surface,
feeling the unnerving vibrations.
After a brief moment he reached in his pocket for a rusty key, turned
the lock and reached for the door handle.
With his face angled closely to the crevice of the door, he creaked it
open, squinting out into the crisp, night air.
Before them stood a boy no older than twenty, his figure dressed in tattered
rags for a shirt, and pants that appeared to have been painted on with smudges
of dirt. His wild, green eyes, which hid behind his tangled, auburn hair,
seemed scarred with torment, while his thin torso quickly expanded and shrunk
as he struggled to regain his spent energy. The boy parted his
lips to speak, "Sir, the village! You must help us…" Exhaustion
lingered on the ends of his words. "Everyone is dead." The air around
them began to churn and howl. The boy lifted his hands and watched as they
began to crack and shrivel. He let out a crazed scream just as his body too
began to disintegrate, forming growing piles of ash on the ground. "Help me!"
He cried, reaching out, his arms crumbling as he took a few steps forward; the
man in return took a fearful step backwards. The boy's figure then
completely dissolved, his remains swirling with the howling wind. Master Leon waited
not a moment longer. He hurried past the ashy cloud, his wife's hand locked
tightly within his, and called out into the darkness. From a short distance
ahead they could hear the sound of shifting cobble, and a clicking canter; out
of the darkness emerged two black stallions and the silhouette of a driver that
lead a carriage of the same shade. While the man guided
his wife and child inside the carriage, another cry rang out from behind. Lady Leon shot a glance back in
response, discovering that the large manor was now deteriorating in
flames. She opened her mouth to
let out a third gutting scream, while the coach driver raised his whip and
slashed at the monstrous horses, sending them off and away.
Pressing the child
close to her chest, the lady glanced fearfully out through the coach window,
spotting her husband as he stood there in the distance. She watched as his hand rose for a
final goodbye before both he and the cindering mansion he stood before, began
to crumble into ash and faded entirely away. Lady Leon woke to the sound of a piercing horse cry. She gazed out through the fogged pane, bracing herself with an arm as she felt the carriage jerk to a halt. Her eyes struggled to make out what was beyond the window, only darkness glared back. A pale face appeared before her, and then there was a hand that tapped gently yet quickly against the glass. “M'lady?” The driver questioned with a muffled voice. “Yes? Why have we stopped?” She shot back. The child began to cry. "Sorry for disturbing you, but I believe you had best take a look at this.” © 2011 LadyAuthor's Note
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8 Reviews Added on June 8, 2011 Last Updated on August 10, 2011 Previous Versions The Red Forest
Chapter Two
By Lady
Chapter Four
By Lady
Chapter Five
By Lady
Chapter Six
By Lady
Chapter Nine
By LadyAuthorLadyNorth Shore, New ZealandAboutI write likeAnne RiceI Write Like by Mémoires.Analyze your writing! I hadn't discovered my passion for writing until the age of 17. Although I can clearly remember during my early youth.. more..Writing
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