-
I let out some kind of mixture between a gasp and a whimper, my eyes locked in combat with the shotguns’ mouths, knowing full well who would inevitably be the winner if a certain trigger was pulled. “Captain Lèon,” a voice, probably from one of the boys, drawled in rather messy French, “I think we have ourselves a little spy.”
I didn’t bother to see which of the boys it was since the two shotguns told me instantly that it was the stocky boy in the suit. The grass crunched furiously beneath the sudden stomping of the other boys along with the man the boy in the suit addressed as Captain Lèon. I heard the other guns being cocked and visibly shivered. “Marc, you’re just being paranoid,” another voice said softly, “it’s just some girl, probably a tourist who got lost, seeing as nobody comes here anymore.” I wondered if anyone else caught the wisps of anger lacing his last words. “Shutup, Nicolas,” Marc barked back, his feet shuffling slightly, “how would you know why she’s here?” Larger feet caused sporadic vibrations to rustle the leaves violently and I couldn’t help but think they must’ve been suffering as much as I was by the onslaught of apricots. I gagged uncontrollably rising to my hands and knees, unfurling slightly from my defensive position. I felt plumes of heat rise to my cheeks when I heard several loud snickers erupt from the group. “Boys, boys, you both know better than to fight,” a voice I could only imagine to belong to Captain Lèon rumbled, “Let the poor thing speak for herself.”
I lifted my head up, trying to appear as timid as possible, letting my wavy light brunet hair fall over my face only revealing my deep brown eyes. I always remembered sayings about how most men were suckers for puppy dog eyes from girls, but I wasn’t that indignant, even if it would be just an act. “My name’s Jazel,” I began with a deep breath, surprised at how the French language flowed freely through my lips, “I’m from America. I came here to visit one of my relatives, but I got lost and wound up here after a tour.” I’m a terrible liar, I thought nervously, while keeping my lips set in a firm line.
“Looks like Nicholas was right,” Lucas suddenly said startling me slightly, “she did just get lost.” He grinned, blue eyes brimming with friendliness. Nicholas, who I could now see was the tall green eyed boy, mumbled something incoherent before repositioning his rifle for no apparent reason. Marc slicked back his ridiculously yellow hair in annoyance before yanking his shotguns back to his chest, ruffling his wine red tie slightly. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Jazel,” Captain Lèon began calmly, “we would all be happy to take you to the nearby town so you can get back on track.” Every head shot towards him after that statement. “Captain,” Nicholas began, displeasure coursing through every syllable, “you said we only have one more route to trek before we reach base camp. You also said it was imperative that we complete this mission and record our findings, so therefore we can’t take the girl back to Serena. We’ve come too far.” Marc and the large dark skinned boy nodded in unison while Lucas’s once gleeful expression changed to an emotionless one. I could tell even he was totally distraught by the onslaught of exhaustion.
Feeling a bit safer, I rose shakily, hearing the constant crackles, snaps, and other unpleasant sounds of the grass crumbling away. Clearing my throat I said steadily, “I only need directions, sir. Please, don’t jeopardize your mission for such a trifle as me getting lost.” I stood muscles taut, one hand submerged within my hair as I made an attempt to shovel the angry strands away from my face. Captain Lèon grinned a yellow toothy smile, as he gestured towards the heavy-set boy. “Eugène,” he stated gruffly, the yellow of his teeth clashing grossly with the black curls of his bearded chin, “please collect everyone’s weapons because we are going back to Serena. I don’t believe that a young girl’s well being is trivial. In fact, it is anything but.” I smiled my sweetest smile, deciding I liked Captain Lèon. Like and trust are two different things, however. The captain’s words squeezed a cluster of sighs from the group as they dropped their guns reluctantly into Eugène’s obedient arms.
I nodded slowly, my gaze flittering down to my clothes. I wore a plain blue T-shirt with the word “troublemaker” embroidered on it in silver, cursive writing along with a pair of black shorts which left my legs, dappled with scars from both old scabs, pale, and bone-skinny at the ankles, but progressively wider up to the thighs openly revealed for all to behold. I shivered again realizing in was night now, the sky, a dazzling swirl of early nighttime stars, and clouds like translucent paint strokes amidst the fields of midnight blue. The crickets once again sang out in relief to one another.
After a few more groans of disdain from the group, excluding Lucas, which were promptly ignored by their captain, we set off downhill, dodging headstones, nimbly as they came. The land sloped sharply, making the simple task of walking difficult without bending my ankles forward with every step. No one said a word to me, making the trek, unnervingly silent, but a certain increasingly annoying blond haired boy’s shining eyes refused to refrain from probing me. I glanced over at Lucas after side-stepping a cross-shaped headstone, lined with the remains of vandalized flowers. He, much to my surprise, gazed back, sapphire eyes begging for me to say something. “Is there something wrong?” I asked blandly. “You have her name…” he replied calmly, “You have my sister’s name. It’s such a strange name.” I blinked back uneasily. What’s this guy talking about? Maybe I should just ignore him. “Lucas, c’mon, stop holding everyone up,” Nicholas suddenly interjected, cutting off my thoughts.
I sprinted forward to Marc’s side, earning a disgruntled glare from the refined boy. “What kind of barbaric jewelry is that?” he growled stabbing my chest with a fat finger. I grunted from the impact, shooting him a death glare of my own. The rest of the boys were suddenly around me, eyes probing me for anything of value, Captain Lèon ahead by only a few yards. I lifted my hand and rested it on something chillingly familiar around my neck. I glanced down to see a smooth, shiny jade-green pendant in my palm. Round, with a small hole cut out of the center, it wasn’t much to look at, especially judging from the scratches that plagued its texture. I wish I had just stared at that necklace forever, because my own dark brown eyes were met with flashing, raging sapphire ones the instant my head came up. “You thieving wench!” A voice, once so warm as a hug from a giant teddy bear, hissed venomously, making my bones go rigid, and my breath halt on command in my throat.
- by Demonz Haru |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/18/2010 |
- Skip
- Title: Whispers of the Missing Soul~2
- Artist: Demonz Haru
- Description: Part 2 is here. I promise the plot will soar forth in the next part. This is more of a build up chapter, but I think it's okay, maybe a bit boring, but its still only the beginning. Questions, comments, and critique are highly valued. Enjoy. ^.^
- Date: 10/18/2010
- Tags: whispers missing soul2
- Report Post
Comments (0 Comments)
No comments available ...