Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story


- Text Size +

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


She had always dream of leaving. Wanting to live in creation.

Experiencing the vibrancy of colors, the harmony of the spheres, and the gratification that was called life.

More importantly she wanted to be herself – the person that she envisions.

This place was no home to her.

She could not be herself.

She could not shake the disdainful stares that were always following: following and judging. She was always on the outside looking in.

This should have been the motivation for anyone to leave and strake some claim to their name. Had she been born a male her leaving this godforsaken village could be more than a dream. There were so many opportunities being born the right gender that she envied her friend David. Even though he stayed to help his aunts with his little sisters he still had options. Woman did not have options.

The day you were born your life had already been set in stone by your elders: the boys taught to hunt, farm, and to fight skills of survival for whenever they wanted to leave. Girls were taught cleaning, manners, and medicinal skills to assist the men, but to never think of the world that surrounded them.

And the little options that she had were either joins the Ladies of the Scared Heart or marriage. That was not the life that Victoria wanted to live she didn’t want to be a nun and marriage…marriage never truly was ever an option for her especially in her village.

It never went unnoticed to her that by now she should have been married expecting her first youngling or betrothed. Her grandmother had not even bother to find her a suitor or ever spoke about marrying her granddaughter off.

The mothers of the village made sure that their sons didn’t dare as throw a glance or spoke one syllable to the outcast girl.

Victoria had only cosigned herself to a life of loneliness. Only able to live out the life she envisions in her imagination the only source of comfort.

.                                   .                                   .                                                     .                                                     .

David Johansson was born with a happy constitute: despite losing both his parents to influenza at an early age of ten. There was nothing that could really upset him; he took the punches of life with quick jabs and swift dodging. He always had a story, a laugh, or kind words to express for anyone and everyone when near him.

Respectful and filled with such noble dignity that it was hard to see that he was a son of a simple farmer instead of a village head.

Taking on numerous jobs around Ludlow that he was nickname the “Hardest Working Man.” 

Such optimistic outlook and dignified air had easily gain the love and respect of the village. Where he was blessed with such a noble spirit he had also been blessed in looks. David was one of the handsomest boys in the village.

His face was round with plump lips that some of the girls in the village gossiped that they were made to kiss and be kiss by. His almond shaped eyes held an earthly hue—a soft brown like wet dirt that was always filled with merit.

His ebony hair held taints of brown and red that he kept cut low. His skin kissed by the sun so lovingly that he seemed so misplaced in the gray paleness that was Ludlow.

He towered over all the men in the village with the build that was made for battle. He was the source of admiration and desire from the whole female population. Victoria was not naïve to her friend’s good looks.

And it had given her great pleasure when he did not waste a glance at the other girls in the village. He was too good for any of those mean spirited girls that lived in Ludlow.  She still remembers the day when their friendship begun.

.                                   .                                   .                                   .

Children weren’t born with the feeling of hate.

They come into this world knowing nothing except curiosity. It is through the guidance of adults that children learn and grow.

Those that are born to honest parents learn the beauty and kindness that is the world and life. The unfortunate ones, who are born to those of dishonesty, learn the ignorance and devastation of the world they made their own.

The children that were born to the parents of Ludlow were no exception to this rule. Especially, when they noticed how their parents took it upon themselves for them to never get any near the strange girl who wore a red cloak.

Naturally, when a child is told not to do something it awakens their curiosity to do the total opposite. Than again this childish trait seems to carry onto adulthood.

Childish games—always labeled innocent fun in its most simplistic definition was cruelty. Victoria had been the target of all those childish games from piggy backing (jumping on her back and making sure her face fills in the mud) to red ball (throwing rotten apples or tomatoes at her). There were many more; however, the worst was when they formed a circle around her and sang Victoria’s Song.

 Who is the freak that lives in the village?

Victoria Red Victoria Red

Who has no parents that left her so?

Victoria Red Victoria Red

Who is the freak that lives in the village?

Victoria Red Victor Red

Who is the freak that’s hated so?

Victoria Red Victoria Red

This was the song they were singing on that faithful day.

Mud was caked upon her face and tangled in her hair when Andrew Mitchel and his friends had piggy backed her earlier. She didn’t cry, because it would make the whole situation worst. Holding herself tight, protecting herself from the impact of the rotten fruit that was thrown her way.

That horrid song begun to slip from their lips as they ran around her like the villains they truly were.

She prayed to the Father to quicken their taunts she did not want to explain to her grandmother why she was in such a dishevel mess.

“Leave her alone!” the voice ripped through the song and laughter of her tormentors.

Victoria kept her eyes closed hoping against hope that this wasn’t her imagination running wild.

That someone with some sort of soul noticed the injustice that she was facing.

“What’s it too you Johansson!” yelled Andrew Mitchel the ringleader.

“Leave her alone! You know she can’t fight back so leave her be!”

“You’re protecting this freak! Your aunt had to tell you to stay away from her just like my parents!”

“Yet here you are bothering her despite what your parents said. Now leave her alone!”

“Or do--” Andrew didn’t finish his statement for his face connected to David’s fist causing blood to spill from his nose.

Victoria had by then took her time to see the altercation and she was shock. Never once had she seen anyone stood up to Andrew Mitchel let alone punch him.

This had caused everyone to clear out, Andrew being carried by his friends, with the threats of telling his father in the background.

Victoria looked at the boy who was two years older then her. His nostrils were flared with his fist tightening as he looked towards the crowd.

When the last of the village children had cleared from view he had turned towards the bewilder girl mudded with puffy eyes.

His parents had always told him not to associate with the girl; however, they also said never to join the children in taunting the girl. The Father had not wished favor on her in this life, and so he shouldn’t make it worst by taunting her like those brats. He had watched quietly in the past how the children taunted the little girl in the red cloak when their parents weren’t around to see. This wasn’t the first time he had seen her cover in mud and rotten fruit. Nor, him hearing the song that the children sang—too his surprise he heard the very parents sing the song with such merriment than their children.

He never acted until now.

His parents were with the Father and his children and like so many in the same position before him he had to grow up faster than the other children. He had to take care of and protect his baby sister’s. His childish ignorance was growing into maturity of the real world.

That meant his perception of everything was growing as well. He had seen the girl around the village; she stayed to herself, silent, always helping her grandmother out, she was an orphan just like him—alone.

As he came up the winding road with the logs for Mr. MacArthur he had saw the crowd of children and heard their songs. He wasn’t going to act—but…the look of absolute defeat shined bright in the little girl’s eyes. Along with a deep sadness that seem so endless.

He thought about his sisters being in her position alone and unprotected. A cloud formed within him filled with disgust and repress anger.

Not at the crowd of children…but…himself.

Silence.

He had been silent to this scene so many times—feeling sympathy towards the girl when he should have acted; after all he would have wanted someone to act for his sisters. That was all the motivation that he needed to drop the wood in his hand and to march towards the crowd.

David turned around towards the dishevel girl. The fire within him silence as he looked at her as though she was of his own blood.

He held his hand out towards her.

She looked at it—confusion so clear across her face; never once anyone ever wanted her to touch them.

“I won’t harm you…” his eyes warm and trusting conveying his message he spoke. What she did not know that her taking hold of his hand sealed a friendship between the two.

 

.                                   .                                   .                                   .                                   .

Outside of Ludlow laid a meadow—filled with the glory and beauty that only the Father could grace and show his love despite being over looked by the undeserving, which is man.  Despite its beauty the villagers never visited the meadow, for it offer no protection by those creatures if they so happen to attack. Due to their fear and ignorance, and the false sense of self-preservation the villagers left the meadow alone in its simplicity and beauty. The exception came in the forms of both David and Victoria, who had claimed this piece of paradise for their own. The meadow became a safe haven; away from the troubles of life and the poison that was Ludlow.

“Edger! Edger! Edger?”

“Repeating his name won’t change that his part of the Nightstalker’s,” biting her bottom lip trying to steady herself from the laughter that wanted to spill, while trying not to cut herself with the knife she was using to carve the wood.

“But it’s Edger Mathews! The same person who would run at the very sight of his own shadow!”

The chuckle slipped from her lips nodding her head to her friend’s assertion.

“I find this unfair!” he said dejectedly.

The knifed stilled. A deep sigh had come forth. Victoria regretted brining up this subject to David’s attention. However, knowing how the village spread information David would had found out—and it would have been a never-ending on his part about Edger Mathews joining the Nightstalker’s.

The Nightstalker’s.

She did not see the glory and pride of joining such a group. The very mention of their name brought this unknowing disgust within her. They were ruthless to the very people they sworn to protect. The many times they had station in Ludlow, their actions had been deplorable in actions and words.

Victoria saw them as the thieves and murders; however, everyone in the village including David were under the illusion of grandeur of morality and justice. It was a topic that David and her constantly disagreed on.

David wanted to be a Nightstalker, for they were the men that boys aspired to be. Victoria knew it was simply blind worshipped. Her friend was not a man of war despite his build. He was a man of the land. His hands were made for life—not death.

Due to his circumstances he could not join, and Victoria thanked the father everyday. That noble light that shine brightly within her friend should not be tarnished by such a vile group.

David noticed his friends silence quickly deciding to leave the subject alone.

He did not want to disrupt their time together by arguing.

“Are you making another toy for the villages brats?” he smiled teasingly.

The tension that was once on her face disappeared instantly to have a brilliant smile in it’s stead.

“David!”

“They’re brats and you’re an angel for even making these lovely figurines for them,” he said seating himself beside her.

“I wouldn’t say an angel,” she whispered.

The slight shiver that took over her as his fingers took hold of her chin titling her head in his direction unnerved her.

The flutter in her stomach always came over her whenever he touched her or stare at her with the feeling that he was portraying now.

“You are an angel…one of the most precious being to walk amongst us lowly beings.” His voice was hush yet there was no teasing in his tone. He was serious in his statement.

He could never recall the time or hour when he realized that he was truly in love with Victoria. He knew the moment when he saved her from the disgusting antics of his peers that he wanted to protect her. As the years pass between them that protection became friendship and somehow in the middle of the passages in the book of life it turned into love.

He had stopped seeing her as that little girl who loved climbing trees, who didn’t cry when she got a scratch, but saw it as a badge of honor, and hated the notion that weakness was associated with being a female.

David had started the see her as the beautiful grown lady that she was becoming in front of his eyes.

She was graceful in her manner that it seemed as though the air manipulated her movements. Her voice was soft like the sound of wind chimes that it was always peaceful when she spoke. Her eyes held the contradicting trait of youth, but filled with the wisdom that came along with age. Victoria was slow to anger, but bold in speech and insight.

She was everything good and wonderful the personification of life in his eyes.

He loved her…yet…they could not be together.

 Her grandmother wouldn’t allow it.

Sylvia did not understand their friendship in the beginning—correction she still didn’t along with his aunt.

Sylvia and his aunt had both tried and still discourage their friendship.

 He knew without a doubt if he was to ask for Victoria’s hand; Sylvia would make sure that he was never in her company again.

When it comes to his Aunt Lydia that was a different story.

Somewhere within him knew that his aunt knew his true feelings about Victoria. She made sure that his interactions with her were at a minimal in the hopes of dissolving whatever attraction he felt.

If the Father permitted Sylvia to have mercy and allow him to marry her granddaughter; his aunt would make sure that he never was in contact with his sisters again.

That thought alone was what kept him from proclaiming himself to her. His sisters needed him the meager wages of his aunt was nothing for them to survive on. Caught in the bitter waves of his musing he had unknowingly caught the attention of Victoria.

The warm caress against his skin brought him back to the reality and the person he was next to. Those warm gray pools that could hook one’s soul and bind it to her submission. The glow from her complexion acknowledge that she was the child of earth and of the sun.

“David, are you with me?” her voice teasing him. Although he knew her statement meant something else deep within him it was as though she had said the words he yearned to hear fall from her lips.

Silently answering back, “always.”

“Sorry,” a sheepish grin that displayed all the boyish charm she adored.

A laughter came forth from those petals like lips that brought warmth and serenity within him. She tugged his right earlobe softly; something she’s done since they were children whenever his mind wonder.

A chuckle came forth; the happiness of being in her presence came forth from his lips and he adore these minutes of peace of being in her company. He might never experience the joy of being with her, but here in this meadow he could imagine she was truly his just for these few minutes.

Victoria was the first to recover, “I believe we should be heading back…you have work to do for Old Man Armstrong and grandmamma will be very cross if I come late due to foolish interactions with that boy.”

“Sylvia still consider me that boy?” he smiled as he stood from the ground holding his hand out for her.

“It wouldn’t be in her nature to call you anything else,” taking hold of his hand as he pulled her up.

In those short moments being so close to him. Victoria’s heart seems to beat at a rapid pace, the flutter within her became wild, and her senses became intoxicated by his smell. Musk and sand-wood mixed with perfection. She loved it.

Looking up to those orbs that caught her fancy and made her feel safe ever since that faithful day so long ago in her childhood.

They stared—caught in the enchantment of each other. One move could seal their lips with the thought that everybody be damned. This thought passed through both of them—the notion to kiss was so sweet and tempting…

Something took over her—a chill shot through her tugging at her senses. Warning her that someone was watching and that they were displease.  She turned her heads in the direction of the thick forest that surrounded the forest. Her eyes searched through the darkness to find the source of her discomfort, yet there was nothing there.

“David, let us leave I am not feeling so well,” she wanted to quiet this uneasy feeling and the quickest would be leaving the meadow.

David quickly came to himself taking notice of her discomfort and constant vigilance of the shadows in the wood.

He came to learn whenever Victoria was uneasy it came with a purpose. Pulling his axe close to his person and securing his arm around her incase of protection they made their way towards the village.

His vigilance of the pair steadfast even as he removed himself from the shadows that he hided himself. Emerald glare kept solely on the female…his sworn one. The time of bloom was quickly coming upon her in the next moon cycle—it was the time to claim her back to Selena’s children.

 












Enter the security code shown below:
Note: You may submit either a rating or a review or both.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.