1887
Sunday morning
6 o’clock
8th August.
Not a single soul was aware of the circumstances they were living in. A vicious battle between two unknown enemies – they were unaware of the danger lurking in the shadows and if this was unavoidable.
Well . . . they would never know.
However, the farming industry was their targets. Starting with animals and days later, people disappearing – not a single soul dare say a word, and I never thought this would happen to us . . . to my minor family, but I was wrong.
***
The neigh of a horse joins the knock of a tough knuckle against our old wooden door – we rarely received any visitors and if they were here to see us. It was usually about some man trying to buy the farm from my father.
Father takes his stand from our round dinner table, and makes his way over to the door, “Who could this be at this late hour?” I could feel the tension blooming in the air – something bad stood there, but they never believed me.
“What do you want?” The fear in my father’s voice frightens me; I have never heard him whimpering before.
The figure before him hides behind father, along with the harsh wind, slapping against the brass roof . . . his snickering points at . . . me.
“A deal is a deal Vincent,” Mother yanks on my hand toward my bedroom; she pushes me into the closet. “Do not f-fear my darling, nothing will happen to you, mommy promises,”
Her quivering turns into droplets, “Mommy,” She glances once more, and closes the door . . . her footsteps echo through the room, out the door. . .
“Where is she? I can smell her . . . a deal is a deal, Vincent, she belongs to me now,” His deep, mysterious voice frightens me, “Please, j-just leave her be, she is just a child,”
He laughs – sending shivers down my spine . . . “tell me . . . did you think of this when you made the deal with me? You know the outcomes if you deny my presence,”
“We are not denying your presence . . . we just need more time, Collin, please,” “Breaking a contract will have severe consequences and I do not think you want those. . .” “Just another year. . .”
“Xiana . . . quiet down, this matter does not involve you,” Collin laughs once again . . . their screaming echo throughout the compact wooden house. I cuff my ears, singing myself a lullaby – I did not want to hear their screams, and I did not want to hear anything.
Salty drops slither down my cheekbones as I lower my palms from my ears, the creak of the door frightens me. I focus on keeping my breathing still, whoever attacked my parents are looking for me and I do not want to know what he wants.
His heavy boots awaken the cracks in the wooden floor . . . I just wish he will go away – can he not just leave me alone? I do not want to know him – or whatever deal my parents strike with him.
The closet door opens, and a scream echoes with pressed eyes. His presence before me shivers against my skin. “It is okay, little Blue, I do not bite,” I peek at his red pupils dilating to dark brown. His black locks seek the air desperately, and his thin figure gives off his paleness of his skin.
I gawk at his wrinkles forming with each look he gives me. No emotion . . . dead eyes, seeking emotion in my minor expressions, “Nothing to fear darling, I am here to help you,”
Danger screams off his skin . . . whoever he was . . . was nothing good and I know he did not collect me for protection. His convincing look still did not ease me. His immense pale palm reaches toward me, “Come on, I do not bite,”
Droplets of red liquid leaks from his corners . . . his white jacket bleaches in blood, “Y-you killed them?” He shakes, balancing himself, “Your mommy and daddy were sinful people . . . I saved you from them,”
I do admit that they were not perfect, but they never harmed me. . . I hid further, “No, they were not, they cared for me, and loved me. . .” He bends down to my level, “They did not Blue . . . they did not protect you; they gave you away,”
“They did not. . .” I glance at him, “Believe me, Blue . . . I am not here to harm you, I want to help you,” I hesitate before his palm, “Come on, Blue, before the dreadful people arrive,” I crawl out before another hesitation can overtake me.
“Yes, yes, you are the perfect one . . . you will make a perfect companion,”
Although I did not understand what those words meant . . . I am certain they meant nothing good.
꧁༺Strange Soul༻꧂
