Here's what I've been able to produce tonight. It's coming along nicely so far, with no visible errors to be seen (big bonus!). It's a new project I just began. It's a revenge story, and you'll get an idea of what kind of vengeance the main character seeks in this sneak-peek.
The Pride and Joy
Vivien is nine years old, has been for three weeks. Every day is a new one, and I’m always happy that she is there each time. She’s my pride and joy, and I’ll take any bullet or fang that threatens her well-being without hesitation.
What I like to do each birthday is to excite her with something totally new. I still remember her third birthday, where I bit the dust, in terms of finances, and managed to get her four hours of time at a horse ranch outside of town. It was all the worthwhile and it’s been a tradition that I have stood by since then. She’s been called spoiled and I guess there’s some merit to that, but it’s just a token of my appreciation.
That was six years ago, and things have changed only a little. With that in mind, I realized that rather than having the total innocence of a toddler, Vivien has the rambunctiousness of an almost-adolescent, curious and sometimes reckless. But I think my smarts were passed onto her, because she’s proven to be resourceful and thoughtful. The worst she’s experienced in her life has been just a stray nail, which didn’t amount to anything. She knows no true pain, and while it would prepare her for the reality of life to experience such, I won’t force anything on my girl. It’s always better to let your child experience such shaping things on their own, after all.
I was in a fantastic mood yesterday after dinner, and I announced to Clarissa and Vivien, with Vivien bearing the smile I’ve come to know and love, that deserts were in order. We had decadent chocolate sundaes at the finest restaurant in town, each and every one of us. When I tucked her into bed last night, just a few hours later, I heard her call to me as I was just walking out her room, door barely closed.
She felt nervous about something, but she couldn’t describe the reason for it. But I didn’t have to hear her say anything to know why she was nervous; her body was shaking. I know the language of the body fairly well, and her shaking spelled to me that she was in fear. I do know that she’s not afraid of the dark; she’s been past that phase since she was almost eight. So in response to her inability to verify the source of her fears, I reassured her that she would be alright.
That did the trick. She started closing her eyes right away, and to keep assurance still, I walked out of the room at a calm pace. Just as the door was about to shut, I peeked in and noticed that she had fallen asleep. The jewel of my life had lain there, peaceful and motionless.
Today we are going to the meadows, located only a few minutes from the house. We go there most days of the week in the better part of summer, because the temperature is just right and the air is pure, untainted, and perfect for enjoyment. I’m sure she’ll enjoy herself out there today, as she always does.
It turns out that she did. We played a few rounds of ultimate, relaxed on the lush green grass, the soil soft as a bed, and because she brought along the balloons that she got on her birthday, we blew them up and let them fly with the calm winds. There must’ve been as many as thirty of them, all in the sky. I could imagine a fleet of heated balloons embarking on a worldly adventure at that very moment I saw all those balloons. The sun was setting at that time, and we were spent.
As she was eating, she asked me to read her one of the books she received as a gift from Clarissa, just before she would fall asleep. I promised her I would do so; what kind of parent would I be to deny her that?
After a few chapters, she eased into slumber. Today was a great day, looking back on it, and I too took off to sleep. Just as easily, I shut my eyes and, with a few inane thoughts racing through at the pace of a burst of light, began to doze off. This will be a long night.
The Broken Lock
A menacingly slow twist of a safety pin, inserted in the front door, roused only squeaks of steel and wood. At the same moment, the window to Vivien’s room was being hoist open at a rate only a stealthy individual would produce. A figure now stood, hunched, on her window sill. One would only see this person as a shadow in the darkness and the dim moonlight from the outside, but they would still distinguish this figure as being male. Not a particularly tall one, either.
The front door had finally been rested open, but only to remain slightly ajar; this was not the main focus of the two men responsible for these breaches, for the window made entry for both of them. It’s not known why, then, the front door would be unlocked with such effort and left alone.
Both men were, whispering to each other, would have appeared to be murmuring indistinctly from only a few feet away. They were quiet, and methodical. It was obvious that Vivien was in danger.
The man who unlocked the door remained inside the room, just at the foot of Vivien’s bed. The other climbed outside, landed on the lawn below with a quiet thud, and walked towards a car parked at the curb only a stone’s throw away. He produced a sack, leather in composition, of large size.
Meanwhile, as the man was walking back to the house below Vivien’s window, the man in her room began to sweat. But he wasn’t nervous. He was Hector Buchanan, the front-runner, who loved to cause fear and shake things up. The man outside the window was Gillean, the depraved runt, who loved to trap and to maim. He stood there in anticipation, sweating more profusely than Hector was. He was also grinning, eyes wide open. He was embellished with sadistic glee, and this wasn’t the first time he and Hector had done something like this.
Hector, in a rapid movement, turned Vivien onto her stomach; this awoke her, but at the same time, he prevented her from screaming by sealing her mouth with his right hand. With the other, he swept her up out of the safety of her bed, dashed toward the window, and tossed Vivien down to Gillean. The latter’s eyes almost seemed to glow at that very instant.
The Deathly Scream
Vivien screamed. I’ve never heard her utter one like that in my life and I am not going to stall any longer to find out what is happening to her. Children scream like that for a reason.
I broke out in sweat, and Clarissa was also awake at the moment. She immediately clung to my right arm with a vice grip, begging me to check on Vivien. I ran to the closet, put on my comfort clothing, and ran out into the hall.
First thing that caught my attention was that the front door had been opened. I was descending the stairs to investigate when I heard the loud creaking of wood from Vivien’s room. I had no time to waste here, so I went back up the short flight of stairs I travelled with the pace of a rabbit, and found myself trapped behind Vivien’s door, which was locked.
I turned the door knob furiously, begging for a purchase beneath my nerve-wracked breaths. I was finding no such thing, even pushing violently on her door. That was when I could hear Vivien shout to me, but there was something wrong: she was outside. She shouted again, but her voice drowned out mid-note. At that moment, I gave up on her bedroom door and almost leapt down the stairs to the front door. Clarissa was rushing behind me, sounding appropriately distressed.
Right after I threw the door open, I spotted two men fleeing from the house, one was leading the other carrying a sack of some kind. It was writhing around and that was when I deduced that they had placed her in it. They were kidnapping my life, with their path interspersed with an idle car. A shadowy figure was waiting at the driver’s seat.
I screamed her name in rage and pain, pain at the sight of these animals stealing my child away from me like this, while I ran at full speed. The one who wasn’t holding Vivien in the sack turned quickly after hearing me, and threw something at me. At first nothing happened, and while I was still running at full speed towards them, I then felt a jolt of piercing pain in my right calf. It was enough to make me fall to the grass, soaked with morning dew and causing Clarissa just behind me to fall as well.
I was crying at that moment, terrified at what was happening. Both men had been in the car for a second now, and the car began to accelerate. The driver window had been rolled down, and the driver was pointing a gun at me, which I was able to discern because it reflected the moon light. I was getting up, just barely past the knees, when he fired three rounds in quick succession. Neither of them hit, but it was jarring nonetheless.
They were in full speed by then, and there I stood, paralyzed with fear. Some of the houses began to light up, but I was absolutely writhing with something I have never felt before. I fell to my knees, and cried out loud into the night.
I felt the fury of a thousand worlds.
