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Заглавие: The Outcast Hero Публикувано на: 12 Апр 2007 21:13
Аз НЕ СЪМ авторът. Просто ми хареса, и реших да го постна.
Chapter 1 : A Bad Beginning
In the small village of Shadow Valley, a small quite village with kind caring individuals, live a unknown legend. Shadow Valley was the only town that is suitable place to live. In a beautiful grass valley in the summer the village was quite beautiful, but in the winter the town was cold gray and hard. In this tiny town just near the center square in a small two roomed cottage lived the Gaps. Seated on the front step of her little two room home was Clare the Crazy. No, she wasn’t really crazy but how she got that name was because she wore pants. Clare was a fourteen year old girl that was misunderstood. Her thick honey brown hair was shoulder length and pulled into a ponytail, her body was that of a thin five foot and eight inches girl, with long legs and equally the same length arms. Her face was that of a kind little five year old, she had two big, bright hazel brown eyes that changes to green, a small tip button nose, her face was triangular and slightly rounded, and her skin was a fair peach color. Clare was bright and misunderstood because of what she wore. Pants. She loved wearing pairs of pants and a shirt just like a boy.
Out side it was cold and foggy, just like any another morning of snow in little Shadow Valley. Out side it was growing cold, a light snow fall had begun, Clare watched as each snowflake fell to the ground. Tightly wrapped up in her father’s coat, a bulky duster that wrapped around her body like a blanket, she had snuck out of his closet, Clare sat there warm and cozy, looking down at her long legs, she sighed, and she liked her black pants that she had finally completed by herself.
Clare wrapped her arms around her legs and curled up into a little ball keeping warm. Watching the world past slowly she could only think of that night. That night was going to be a dawning of a new life, when she could leave the boring village and explore the world. Tonight was the night she had been waiting for her entire life. It was her fifteenth birthday.
Clare was lost in her day dreams of her new life as an explorer when a snow ball came hurling past her left cheek. Clare gasps when she felt its cold ice touch her face. Another came flying at her, but she was ready. She quickly dodged it and scooped up a large hand full of snow made a snow ball and hurled it at the direction the first two came from.
A shout came in the distance, and then three boys came up laughing at the one with Clare’s snow ball in his face. They walked up to the gate that surrounded Clare’s home and leaned on it. The middle one was a handsome man, with short blond and brown hair and an extremely handsome face and a body equal to match, his name was Jacob the Jerk. The one to the right of him was a tall skinny person with a big nose and no real chin, he had long black hair that is always in a messy ponytail, and his name is Larry the Lame. And to the right with the snowball in his face was Bobby the Buffoon, he was short and round, stupid and dumb just like Larry.
“He-he, who threw that snowball, or should I say what threw that snowball?” Jacob laughed acting like he was looking for something. The three started to laugh like uncontrollable idiots.
Clare stood up and walked over to the fence. Her hair blowing in the wind and a disgusted face lay upon her.
“You want me to show you?” Clare said threaten them. She bent down and picked another handful of snow and started to form another snowball.
Clare watches the three block heads regain their senses. She never liked the but had a small crush on Jacob, everyone loved him. But she did hate him more then anyone in the village because she ended up being the butt of their jokes.
As the three regain sense Jacob rubbed his eyes acting like he was crying from laughter. He leaned on his arms and smiled. Larry and Bob copied, chuckling under their breaths.
“Sorry Clare, he-he, hey wanna play with us?” Jacob asked looking at her with a smile.
“Really?” Clare asked dropping the snowball to the ground looking at him.
“Jacob, I thought only guys could play with us!” Larry said in a dumb way, he looked at Clare with a confused face.
“Yeah!” Bobby said looking at her with an equally dumb face.
“Oh, that’s right! Well, if she ain’t a girl or a guy, then it must be an it, and we don’t play with its!” Jacob said.
The group started to burst out laughing again. Clare was in rage, she picked up her snowball, tightly packed it to making it hard and pelted it right in to Jacob’s face! It hit him square in-between the eyes. Larry and Bobby began to laugh at Jacob. Jacob was out raged, but when another hard snowball came whizzing past his ear and hit Larry in the neck, Jacob started to laugh at him. But when a blizzard of rock hard snowballs came flying down at them they started to scatter like little animals. Clare was furiously making hard snowballs and hurling them at the three idiots.
“Come on you dolts! Let’s get out of here!” Jacob cried running away covering his head with his gloved hands. Larry and Bobby ran after him trying to protect themselves.
After they were out of sight Clare called after them, throwing her last snowball, “And don’t you dare come back!”
Clare was pleased with what she had down. Walking back to her seat, she was laughing to herself. Clare would never forget the look on Jacob’s face when the snowball crunched in to his face. Clare sat back down and acted like nothing had ever happened. She ended up lost in her little world of adventure and daydreams.
The day past slowly, Clare watched people walk by her fence. They looked at her and stared as they walked past. Clare was use to it all. She had always gotten strange looks from everyone in the village. But now knowing that she will be leaving that time tomorrow, all she could do was smile at them.
One person, a little six year old boy, came running up to the fence just two feet from the gate was peeking over the fence. His name was Logan the Little, Clare’s only friend. He was just like any blond hair blue eye five year old. With two large eyes and messy hair he was just darling. In his thick coat and small shoes and the cutest pair of overalls you couldn’t get mad at him. But poor little thing was an orphan and he lived at the orphanage down the road from Clare’s home, but no matter what he would come to see Clare when ever possible. Logan quickly opens the gate and ran over to Clare.
Logan hugged Clare as tight as he could. He was happy to she her.
“I see them stupid heads run and scream like girls!” Logan said, taking a seat on Clare’s lap. Logan smiled, he had lost a tooth three weeks ago and another one was growing in.
Clare loved him too much to let Logan go, she held him close to her, kissing his head. Clare laughed and whispered in to his small ear, “Yep, I kicked their butts didn’t I?”
Logan squealed with laughter, clapping his little gloved hands together.
Clare gasped and took one of his hands and looked at his little gloves then asked in an astonished voice, “Where did you get these?”
“The nice old lady at me home! See! Them pretty gloves ain’t them?” Logan answered with glee. Then his eyes widen, he placed a hand in a pocket and pulled out a rock.
“Happy Birthday Clare!” Logan placed the little rock into her hand.
The rock was an ordinary rock but that didn’t matter. Clare laughed and hugged Logan tightly, thanking him for the gift.
The two friends talked all day into the late afternoon. Clare told Logan over and over what she had done to Jacob, Larry, and Bobby. The enjoyed their time together. If Clare could she would take him with her when she was going to leave tomorrow, but she couldn’t. When the sun began to sink into the night Clare had to say good bye.
“Logan, I want to tell you something” Clare said before she had to send Logan away.
“What?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow, and I want you to not tell anyone. OK?”
Logan looked immediately sad, “Why?”
“I’m going to be fifteen, and then I’ll be able to leave.”
Logan looked down, “I be missing you Clare.”
“Oh, I’ll miss you much more; I want to know something, a little secret.”
Logan looked up with excitement, “What?”
Clare pulled him closer to her and whispered into his ear, “I love you.” and she kissed him.
Logan smiled and turned to Clare and whispered in to her ear, “I love you, too.” and he kissed her cheek.
Clare giggled, and standing up she walk Logan to the gate. They hugged good bye and Clare watched Logan run back to the orphanage.
Clare smiled as she walked back into the house. She loved Logan truly. He was so close to her it seemed like he should be her brother. But they were friends to the very end and that was perfect for the both of them.
Walking into her home she saw the two little items on the lonely table, in front of the fire place, a box and a cupcake with a lit candle. Around the table were the three chairs, and everything was much cleaner then before.
“Happy Birthday Clare!” Clare’s parents screamed with surprised.
Clare jumped and turned to her right. Standing there she saw her two parents standing there with really happy faces. Her father a strong man with a stomach that hung over his belt came walking over to Clare and in gulfed her in a tight hug that picked her off the ground.
“Humph . . . What the . . . . ?” Clare moaned when her father hugged her. She had no idea what was going on.
Clare’s father put her down and smiled a great big smile. He looked overly happy, he then said, “We wanted to celebrate our little girl’s birthday!”
Clare looked at her parents and asked, “Ok, who are and what did you do to my parents?”
Her mother, a small young women that looked very young for her age, smiled and walk up next to her daughter and wrapped an arm around Clare’s shoulder and guild her to the table, “We’re sorry we haven’t been paying that much attention to you, so we decide to make it all up! Happy birthday!”
As Clare’s mother talked, she had Clare sit in one of the chairs, in front of the little cupcake and the box.
“It isn’t much dear.” her mother said with a hint of sorrow, “We tried our best to make it special.”
Clare was so overwhelmed all she could was gape at it all. Her parents sat down in the other chairs, both were waiting for Clare to blow out the candle, so she did. She was way too happy to say anything.
Clare’s father handed her a small box. Slowly Clare opened it to see a small silver cross, about an inch in length and half an inch in width, a black stripe ran up and down and across the middle, and at the end of each tip was three points, shinny in the light laying in her pale palm.
“My mothers. Pure silver and one of a kind. She asked me not to sell it as her last request.” her father said…
Clare’s dear mother sighed and smiled, then came up to her then hugged her tightly.
“My daughter, so young.” she sighed into Clare’s shoulder, “you are thinking of a family, yes?”
Clare believed if she hadn’t said those words, they would have lived. For an old family friend walked in from the freshly falling snow out side.
Helter was his name, murder was his game. Helter use to be a friend of the family but they all stop seeing him for got reasons. He had silky black hair like that of a smooth tar, ice blue eyes that looked as if they were petrified, a tall thin body with moon pale skin, like usual he must wanted something and indeed he did.
Clare’s father (same as every one else) stood up in a surprised raged, as they all watch the evil thing slither in. Clare’s farther finally broke out in a mad rage.
“Go away! You’re not welcomed!” yelled Clare’s father. Fury ran threw him - last Clare ever saw him; “She’s not yours!”
“Ah, but dear Tom, don’t you remember?” Helter whispered deathly to her father.
Clare’s father, in rage, walked right up to Helter. Unfortunately, Helter was ready and killed her poor father with a quick moment of his hand that held a knife cutting her father’s throat.
Her mother went into hysterics, as she watched him fall stiff to the floor. Her mother went to the body but Helter grabbed her and threw her effortlessly to the wall, killing her as well.
Helter looked at the lifeless bodies of Clare’s parents and like a deadly mist floated towards her. Clare backed away feeling for anything to club him with.
“Your fate is mine!” he said reaching for Clare.
Helter clinched an icy hand around her neck. Helter smiled devilishly and drew her closer to him. Clare gapped in horror. She grabbed his wrist and tried to pry his hand off of her. Helter ignored the girl’s struggle and only drew her closer to his cold body. He placed his other cold hand over Clare’s shoulder, grabbing a firm grip on to it. He released his cold hand from Clare’s neck and placed it on to her hip. Pulling her closer to him, he leaned in to the side of her face just brushing his cheek against hers and coolly whispered in to her ear;
“Happy birthday, Clare.” he gently kissed her neck.
Clare gasped as the cold lips touched her skin. She didn’t know what to do. With out thinking she quickly pulled her hands up between him and herself and shoved Helter away from her. Clare looked at Helter with horror.
Helter stood straight and crossed his arms, chuckling. He walked up to Clare again, she back away.
“I always like hard-to-get type of people” Helter said softly as he watches the poor girl try to defend herself.
Clare backed away. But she felt the wall press against her back. She couldn’t do anything to stop him. Clare gasp, knowing her end was near. She watched in horror as the murderer came closer to her body.
Helter walked back up to Clare taking her back in to his cold arms. He wrapped his arms around Clare’s waist, holding her tightly, and gently ran his hands up and down her back.
Clare looked at him with wide terrorized eyes. What to do?! Clare couldn’t do anything; she was too horrified to do anything. She felt Helter press closer to her body, his firm grip was impregnable. Looking up at Helter, who was a good foot taller then her short five foot body, Clare had to think quickly. She wanted to hit him, but how? She knew nothing on how to fight someone like him. But what the heck, she thought.
Helter smiled at his success. Looking at Clare, he leaned into her, just about to kiss her. But he couldn’t. In a swift motion he ended up stumbling backwards looking quite surprised.
Clare looked at him rubbing her closed fist; she has just punched Helter square in the jaw with all her might. Now, she had an idea of what to do. Before Helter could regain reality, Clare ran over to one of the wooden chairs that her family was sitting in and raised it high over her head. Walking over to Helter, Clare was going to clobber him over the head with it, but she came too late.
Helter had already gotten to his feet, laughing. He was quite impressed with what had just happened. Looking the girl who now was holding a chair over her head he smiled. Clare waited for him to stand straight up, and he did. Clare came down hard, hitting Helter with a deadly blow. A large gash on his fore head appeared dripping black blood, then it healed it self quickly.
“You’ll pay, girl!” Helter screamed at Clare, vampire teeth bore. Helter was one of the greatest vampires that had ever walked this earth; he was pure evil and was down right merciless. Helter stood up and lunged himself at Clare, knocking her to the wall. Then he picked up her limb body and tossed her to the center of the room. He walked over her and out the door never to be seen again.
Clare got up and looked around the ruined house. She hurriedly put the cross on and prayed for help. It did not come. But as Clare stood there praying for help of any sort, sticks of fire came crashing threw the windows. Clare was trapped! Fire and smoke choked her. She needed to get out, but it seemed useless but Clare did try for the sake of it. Looking and straining her eyes, she saw it. The back window leading to the alley behind her house. Thinking the smoke got to her head, she thought she was going mad but let alone she couldn’t miss the clear darkness that lay outside, she realized it was real and she started to stumble for it. Her pants got burnt and cinched, and her nice clean shirt was torn by the fire. Then Clare made it, she jumped breaking the glass she landed in a snow bank - burnt, bleeding, and dieing.
Clare tried desperately to get up and move, on her first attempt she fell back in to the snow back first. She gave up and just laid there her burnt cinched face watching the fire eat away at her only home. Her body was growing extremely hot to fast, the snow all around her was begging to melt. Shouts began to echo around her and shadows ran around the fire. Clare couldn’t do anything but wait for someone to notice her. She gazed up looking into the heavens waiting for some one. The smoke began to suffocate her, and she felt the heat raising. Then and there she knew she was going to die. Gasping in her last breath of air, Clare looked up back into the night sky when a dark shadow came down on her.
“It’ll be ok kid.” came a soft kind voice.
Clare looked at the figure and pasted out from the raising heat and deadly smoke. There she laid in a vast darkness.
Chapter 2 Meeting of Mysteries
Clare gasped. She woke up in the darkness of the cool clear night. She felt a blanket wrapped around her cold body. She sat up and felt the cold chain of her fathers cross hang down. Memories of the horrific scene came back to her. Her only family killed - by a vampire. As the memories swept back to her, hot tears burned Clare’s eyes and ran down her cheeks, she clenched the cross of her late father’s and swore to get revenge on Helter. Feeling the groves of the cross Clare sat on her knees crying. She didn’t care where she was or what she was with. Clare cried for who knows how long when -
“Why are you crying?” said a dry husky voice.
Clare gasped and looked around scared and relieved to hear another voice. She looked around and saw a torch of fire being tossed to the and the area lighting up. Clare nearly fell over since the memories were still fresh in her mind.
Standing next to the fire was a tall shadowy figure with square shoulders that curved down into long strong arms that covered its hands, a long black duster that went down to its knees or shins and wrapped around its body, black pants went down and hid a pair of large black boots, a large hat sat on its head shading its face.
Clare got up very shakily and saw where she was. She was standing in the Jade Forest which surrounded Shadow Valley. She felt a warm thick blanket wrapped snuggly around her body, Clare felt its warmth against her frozen light pale skin and hugged it closer to her skinny body. She was growing colder although the fire did warm her body.
“Wha-what?” was all Clare could whimper out in a voice almost as soft as a dove’s coo. She was too scared to do much of anything; her knees were shaking under the blanket, barely keeping her body up.
The figure took a step closer and repeated the question;
“Why are you crying, kid?”
Clare didn’t know what to do. All she could do was let her knees shake and gap at the shadowed creature. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and horror
This person - thing - limbed over to her. It seemed to be injured on the right leg.
“Here,” the figure said, it had a handsome Romanian accent, handing Clare a piece of bread. It then limbed over to a log lying near the fire. It sat down with a heaving grasp. It defiantly was in pain.
Clare gazed at the bread. She slowly looked up and saw across from the figure on the other side of the fire was another log. Slowly hugging the blanket tighter around her and holding the bread in her cold hand, Clare walked over to the empty log. When she sat down she started to nibble at the bread looking about her.
The forest was quite except the soft crackling of the bright fire and Clare’s noisily nibbling. A light snow was falling around the two figures gathering on the rim of the clearing. The clearing was around fifty feet with Clare and the mystery thing, the fire pit was in the center and a small one with the two log benches.
“I’m Ashton.” said the figure on the opposite side of the fire, tossing in a few pieces of wood into the fire, “Does the bread help any?”
Ashton? What an odd name. Besides that the bread did help Clare’s hunger and it help her to stop crying. Clare gazed down at the fire and knew from that day on it would be an enemy that would never leave her side.
“Why do you ware pants?” grunted this Ashton oddly, staring across the fire at Clare legs.
Clare gazed down at her legs. Two over sized black boots and the cinched edge of her favorite pants. She sighed with disappointment and replied softly;
“I’m just that way . . .”
Ashton nodded to himself thinking, Interesting, very interesting. He did like people who weren’t the same as others because it showed their true self. Ashton loved to see new and odd things but this - a girl wearing pants - was very new and odd.
Clare on the other hand, was freaked out. She never came to the forest alone before. She did not like the idea of being with a complete stranger and a fire. All she could think was, What’s he thinking? What am I suppose to do if he comes near me? What if something attacks us and he just waits for it to kill me then he’ll kill it after words? Terrible thoughts were squeezing into her mind making it difficult to eat.
“Something wrong kid?” Ashton asked seeing that Clare was eating slower. Ashton was surprised to notice how her face expression changed in an instance.
“No!” Clare immediately said looking at Ashton with a calm horror hidden in her green hazel eyes. Clare did like the soft gentle tone of his voice. Reminded her of her late father.
Ashton nodded to himself, he shouldn’t have asked. Clare must be scared to death. He thought of what to say, because he was getting uncomfortable sitting here with it so quite and stile.
But Clare beat him do it when she began to talk in a low tone, almost as quite as a deer;
“Where did find me?”
Ashton looked at Clare with an amazed look. He smiled a crooked smile and replied in an obvious tone;
“Well, last night I was walking around and saw a roaring home on fire. After the flames went down I did the right thing and to see if any one was alive. And guess what I found? An arm in a snow bank. I dug furiously and found you laying there blue to the face in the snow.”
Clare looked up with surprise. It was a day after my parents died? Clare nearly dropped the remaining of her bread.
Ashton saw the distress in Clare’s face but in a softer tone with out as much excitement, continued, “Well, any way. I looked around and saw no one around, so I took you with me. All night and through the day you were frozen and slept most of the way on my black stallion, Black-Soul. I decided to rest here because, you were starting to get up. So here we are. Sorry to scare you like that.”
Clare looked up at the shadowed man. She was scared, that was true, but not of him. Clare knew if he hadn’t of saved her she would be dead by now. Clare should show a little respect towards this person.
Ashton sighed and took off the wide brim hat off and looked at the fire.
Clare almost fell off her log at the sight. She looked upon the most handsome face she had ever seen in her life. Long brown-blond wavy hair like caramel honey was pulled back into a lose tail, his skin was a very light tan like the first light of dawn, his face was a rounded square with a broad forehead, a goatee was starting to grow on his chin, his nose wasn’t really pointed but yet not rounded, somewhere in-between, but the real thing that caught Clare’s eyes was his eyes. Ashton’s eyes were a bleak brown, more black then brown though. But there was something about his eyes that really was mysterious, adventurous and - romantic.
Ashton noticed the sudden awe in Clare’s raised eyebrows. He didn’t know exactly what to do so he hastily threw a few more pieces in to the dieing fire. Ashton was nervous, he doesn’t do the rescue thing - let alone be with any one, he likes to be a loner but something has to be new once in a while.
Ashton pretended to look into the fire but was really looking at the girl across the from him. Although he didn’t know her name he had to admit she was lovely. He liked how her face changed expression so quickly. He admired her hair, how it was full and thick instead of those other girls with straight, flat blond hair. Ashton really want to know who this heavenly creature is but he couldn’t ask out of the blue.
Jade forest was suddenly very quite and peaceful. Snow was gently falling around them, never reaching the ground for the fire was still warmer. The clearing, about twenty feet round, was a beautiful spot. The trees stretched for the moon hoping to hold it with their reaching branches and curling vines, and the moon was shinning as bright as ever as it stood there in full moon state. The stars glistened as they flickered and danced in and out of the clods. The clouds swept gently over the full moon and dancing stars like an eerie mist settling over beautiful, glorious dancers. Nothing could disturb this beautiful spot. The only noise was the crackling of the dieing fire and Clare’s slow nibbling. Clare’s eyes were beginning to shut, but if she had then her story would end here.
Clare was near dreamland when a crisp, clear howl was sung in the night. Clare sat up straight, the sudden noise struck her with horror. She looked around terrified to breathe. Ashton heard the noise too and reached into his belt and pulled out a silver pistil, a remarkable sight. The gun was a stunning silver with a black handle, a five bullet gage holder. Ashton always had it filled with silver bullets just incase it was a werewolf, but he could practically kill anything with his trusty gun.
“What -” Clare whispered, petrified with horror. She watched Ashton as curious-scared sensation swap over her.
Ashton pressed a finger to her thin lips, telling her to sit still and be quite. Clare froze hardly breathing.
As the air began to freeze their breathing were turn to puffs and the snow was slowing down, just like time had frozen in spot. Ashton and Clare were thinking the same thing, What is it?
SNAP!
A twig snapped and it made them both gasp, jumping. The noise came from the southwest part of the small clearing. Then light footsteps came. Clare was so on edge she was literally on the edge of her log.
Ashton walked towards the noise. This was normal to him because he had to deal with this type of excitement everyday. Its normal for a Monster Hunter. His limping leg was very quietly making a thump, thump, thump noise.
Clare was listening to Ashton’s steps, she could hear something else. Another sound, like a huffing breathing. Clare gasp as a sudden breath of hot air ran down her spine, chilling her bones.
Ashton swung around in a flash holding the gun in his cold, gloved hands. He was trembling though you could barely tell that he was. Ashton had stiff body, and hard heart. Ashton never liked to have another innocent around when he was facing a mystery monster.
The other light footsteps began to grow faster with each passing moment, and Clare was growing more and more anxious. She wanted to run away, or either help Ashton instead of setting there playing damsel in distress. Clare had to keep calm or else.
Ashton, too, had to keep low. We should have just kept moving, he kept thinking in his already stressed out mind, So that I could have left her there and I could have been on my way. But NOOO-OOO! Ashton kept on grunting under his breath. He really hoped that what ever it was would go away, so that he wouldn’t have to hurt - let alone kill - anyone.
The air and time had froze. Nothing was moving. Clare and Ashton were waiting and watching for anything different. But the thing had moved, right behind the both of them with a out making a noise. Then it all happened so quickly its very difficult to explain exactly what happened.
Ashton was the first to see it. From the corner of his straining eye. To the left of him, behind Clare was a very large werewolf. The werewolf, Ashton could see barely any of its figure, but it was the largest he has ever seen. The werewolf had a very dark brown fur that was standing on end, its eyes blazed amber gold glaring at them both, and the teeth shone like silver knives in the light. It was about seven feet tall, and looked exactly like a human that stretched a wolf’s skin and made it fit the him. Except, that the heels were pointed, much like a person who is trying to stand on an odd set of stilts. The body was very muscular and bulged with strong, bone-crushing arms, paws (or hands) were long and curled, the claws were sharp and were ready to hunt and kill. The face was that of a unhappy wolf. It’s lips curled back and snarled at them baring silver fangs, its tongue hung out drooling saliva and a ghastly smell floated in the air that smelled like a decaying animal that has been sitting outside all summer.
Ashton swung his gun right at it, when Clare saw the gun being pointed at her, she nearly fainted, but she dropped out of his aiming gun. Clare quickly dropped the blanket and ran to the other side of the dieing fire. Clare gazed upon the nightmare creature like she was in a trance.
Ashton was thankful that she had moved, gave him a clear shot at the werewolf. As he aimed the wolf suddenly jumped, not at Ashton but at Clare. Ashton shot and missed. He cursed and quickly took aim again, it was too late.
Clare was too stunned to move. She stood there doing nothing but watching the thing jumping at her. Luckily, it landed on the other side of the fire. With out thinking, Clare saw a piece of wood that hadn’t reached all the way into the fire, it was leaning into the fire with burning embers over it, and it laid across a rock that kept the embers in the fire, like a leaver, Clare stepped on it sending flaming hot embers.
The hot ember flew into the werewolf’s face making it howl and claw at itself trying desperately to get the embers off. It whimpered as it struggled, backing away. The werewolf then, as it backed away from Clare and the fire, tripped over the log.
Ashton watched with amazement at what Clare had just done.
“Shoot!” Clare shouted stepping back because of the sudden burst of flares. She did not think of any embers going at her.
Ashton hesitated at the sudden command then he quickly regained his aim. He carefully aimed the pistil as the wolf struggled to gain its footing. Ashton waited for the right moment.
It seemed that the right moment was taking forever. Once again time had frozen as the werewolf slowly got up and growled with a blazing anger. Then the right moment came.
The werewolf’s chest was exposed. Just the moment Ashton waited for. Without hesitation he shot the werewolf.
The werewolf didn’t know that it had been shot until it began to lose strength and a searing pain began to run threw it bulky body. The silver bullet burned at the wolf’s flash sending a poisonous burning sensation threw out the body, killing the werewolf. Howling in agony, the wolf fell to the ground hiding behind Clare’s log, making a thud sound as it finally died.
Ashton and Clare both ran up to look over the log. The sight that laid before them was awful surprising. Instead of a dead werewolf, a dead scrawny old man laid before their widening eyes.
“You killed . .” Clare’s voice trailed off, as horror waved in to her mind. She looked at the dead man, clearly seeing the wound from the gun shot.
“He was a werewolf! It didn’t matter.” Ashton groaned, looking at the dead man too. He was use to seeing death, even if he killed the person. Ashton knew that by killing a werewolf he had saved other lives that could have been killed by this werewolf.
Clare didn’t know what to do. A handsome murderer. If she did not get away and return to Shadow Valley she might be the next victim. Clare honestly wanted to run, run far, far away from there. But where to go?
Ashton felt the agony to run from Clare’s widen eyes. He knew that look from any where, because he encountered it every time some one was there to witness a killing. He did want to tell her it will be fine, but how?
“Sorry. Look, you might not know where Shadow Valley is, nor how to get there. So instead of being left here, you’ll come with me. Then in Gray Bloom, you can do what ever you want. OK?” Ashton said as he watched Clare turn away from the log to gaze in to the dead fire.
Clare covered her thinning lips with a cold pale hand. Tears build up in her eyes. She had seen to many deaths, even if it was only three. Clare wasn’t really willing to go with Ashton because he was a killer. But what choice was there? He was right, Clare didn’t know where or how to get to Shadow Valley. Clare couldn’t admit that just yet.
A light breeze flew in. The entire clearing was silent. Everything dead inside, like that made any sense. The two lost cold souls stood there watching the earth standing still. Everything happened to fast for Clare to take in. Ashton, too, was feeling distort and cold. But both were wondering the same thing, What to do?
Clare decided the silence lasted long enough and piped up first.
“I don’t know. Maybe it would be best to go with you, for various reasons.” Clare gazed back at the log sorrowfully, “But it is all up to you. Want me to go?” Clare turned her gaze to the surprised Ashton.
Ashton cock his head, eyebrows raised, and confused. She turned this around on me somehow, he thought. Ashton, still thinking, walked over to the opposite side of the clearing, next to a dieing oak tree. Liking how this is going he turned to the quite Clare, planning how to react.
“Well, if it is my choice I would take you, but you wouldn’t mind any of the weather or any of the terrain?” Ashton sighed placing his pistil back into his pocket, gun holder. Ashton looked down at the cold ground, as he waited for a reply.
Nothing happened. Clare and Ashton stood there each twenty feet away from each other, both wishing to the other would say something. Nothing moved everything was silent yet again. After another few moments both jumped at a single noise. Ashton’s stallion, Black-Soul, had let out a loud nigh!
“Shit, my horse!” Ashton turned quickly and ran into the north-east direction of the clearing into the dark of the woods.
Clare watched him go, thinking only once of the thought of being left with a dead man, she ran after him.
Threw the dark it was amazing Ashton could see even to himself! But he ran in the darkness of the woods, the moon light did help greatly, to find his horse struggling on the reins that were tied to a tree branch.
Black-Soul was a young three year-old, solid black, stallion. A strong handsome horse Ashton had stolen in France. The horse has proven worthy and trusty, because he traveled long, dangerous months with Ashton for over a course of three years now.
As the stallion struggled whimpering and making a mess of noise, Ashton immediately wrenched the reins with one hand and raised his other hand to the stallion to attempt to calm him down.
Reluctantly, Black-Soul did calm down. Ashton was pleased of the quickness of the horse’s recovery. The stallion heaved hot puffs of air, and looked at Ashton pleased to see him again. Ashton patted the young black stallions muzzle with his cold gloved hands and sighed.
“Ashton!” came a distressed cry.
Clare came running threw a few bushes from the clearing twenty-yards away from that spot Ashton was standing with Black-Soul. As she walked up to him and leans against a nearby oak tree grasping her sides, gasping for air. Ashton was amused at the sight.
Where they standing at that moment was a calm quite place, the trees stretched tall and covered the sky with thick leaves little light shines threw, the woods are closer, each tree seemed to be only four feet apart from one and other. The world was in a total darkness, how anyone could see was amazing, but by the faded moon’s light the forest did seem to be lighter. Ashton and Clare were both silent. Each breathing quietly, and just looked at one and another, thinking.
“Com’ on. We’ve got to leave.” Ashton broke the silence with a soft, dry voice. He turned from Clare and towards Black-Soul.
Ashton went around the horse and pick up a large travel bag. Brown and leathered it was an ideal way to carry all of his monster items. Ashton tossed it on to the stallion’s back and securely tied it down to the saddle. He then walked back to Clare’s side of the horse and waited for her reply.
Clare noticed immediately that he wanted her to come to him so he could place her on the horse. What the hell! I can’t ride that thing! She thought with surprise.
“Oh, com’ on kid! We need to leave! If we hurry we’ll be in Carrington before tomorrow night!” Ashton said with a harsh groan, “Wait, no, we - I will not leave you there. But I’ll take you there, we’ll stay a night there, then we’ll travel over the White Peek Mountain. OK?”
Clare had heard of all the stories from Carrington. That village was a near day in a half from Shadow Valley, and was the only other place “suitable” for living. The stories that come from there were told by weary travelers who were looking for Rome, or London but had gotten lost in a blizzard. The travelers had told the entire village that Carrington should be burnt to the ground because of all the murders, killings and other things like that. One traveler even said “I’d rather die the worst possible death then go back there!” Clare knew it had to be that bad, for any one to say that.
Ashton knew of everything that went on there. Because he always went there when times were harsh, but he went there under different names. Ashton had too, that town was out looking for him because of a murder he didn’t commit two years ago. So each time he goes there he disguises up as a different man.
“Um . . . Ok? But why do we have to go there?” Clare whispered. She stood straight and crossed her arms. She looked at Ashton with her large eyes with wonder. She did want to go somewhere like Carrington when she was twelve or something around that age.
Ashton turned to the horse and opened the leather bag. Old clothes from nearly every country was in there. He could find the simplest outfit and he could transform himself. The only problem was, he didn’t have and dresses or anything else suitable for Clare.
“Sorry I just have pants and long sleeve shirts, kid.” Ashton groaned as went on looking for something better.
“Actually, I really don’t care for dresses. I like pants more.” Clare said, walking up next to Ashton looking to see what he had for clothes.
Ashton found the smallest pair of pants and shirt. He held up a pair of dark black pants with a few smudges and a long, large flowing white shirt. These two items were going to be used as fire wood when they didn’t serve a purpose anymore.
Clare looked at them. She knew if she refused those then it’ll be nothing at all. Clare nodded and took them away to get dressed. Clare walked into some near by bushes, and looked to see if she was well hidden.
“Can you see me?” Clare yelled, she didn’t feel all that comfortable getting dressed out in the middle of nowhere.
Ashton smiled as he turned back to his horse and continued to get Black-Soul as ready as possible. He was calmer now knowing everything is going as planned.
“Hum… Mister,” Clare called again waiting impatiently, “Are you There?”
“I do not see you!” cried back Ashton. He chuckled to himself, “um . . . You have a name kid?”
Clare stuck her head out and looked at Ashton with surprise. She decided to tell him her name, after all he did save her - twice in one night. “My name’s Clare Gaps. - Don’t look!”
Clare was relieved. Slowly she got dressed in the dark. First taking of the cinched shirt that was white and tossing it to her left. She looked down at her bare body and looked at her odd paw print birthmark the one that meant she was soon to be a great hero, under her right neck bone about two inches and sighed as she pulled the cleaner shirt on. Surprisingly it was just about right, though the sleeves were longer then her slender arms. She took off her black boots, her father’s boots that were to small for him yet too large for her, then she pulled off her burnt pants and tossed it on top of the shirt and pulled on the black slacks. They were very large, they needed to be rolled up five times before Clare was able to put on her boots. Ashton was bloody big. In both width and height. Holding the pants up with her right hand and holding her old clothes in the other, Clare walked out.
Ashton looked away. When he heard Clare’s last name he nearly gasp in horror. As he could remember the Gaps family line was that of monsters, murderers, and royalty. The Gaps family history was mainly of famous killers like, Ronald Gaps from England who went on a killing spree in North Romania, and Susan Gaps who murdered a prince in an alley in Holly Berry, France. He shook it off when he watched Clare walk out.
Ashton looked at her, and smiled nearly laughing. He handed her a rope. He knew from the beginning that his clothes might not fit her small body. Her body was much slender then his strong muscular body, and his height was totally out of question, he was nearly two feet taller then her. But it did look quite charming and dashing on her. At first glance she looked like a small man with an oversized outfit.
Clare gladly took the rope from him and exchanged it with her old clothes. Quickly she tied it around her waist and snuggly tied it. She then looked up at Ashton’s turned head. His hat sat a top it again, shadowing the back side of his face, Clare wondered where he got it because it looked pretty old.
The hat was a large cow boy-ish hat. It seemed to be warn down and had to have been through a lot. Around the base of the wide round triangular top was a stripe of black with triangle or a side ways zigzag pattern on it. The brim of the hat was floppy and fell down in the front and back, on the right side was a cut in it, a near inch into the brim and about half an inch across like something had bitten into it.
Ashton felt the girl’s eyes on the back of his most favorite hat. He felt content about it, having her stare at him. Ashton finished tying down his bag to the stallion’s saddle and swiftly turned back to Clare. He looked at her, happily smiling.
“Ready?” Clare said, her eyes widening as she turned away to look at the ground, “Sorry I just like your hat.”
Ashton nodded. He loved that hat more then anything in the world except Black-Soul of course. He shifted unnoticeably in his black boots, his right leg was acting up again. He had an accident with a really pissed off gremlin down between White Peek Mountain and Gray Bloom around in August, his leg didn’t heal correctly and always had difficulty holding him up so he needed to lean on his left leg more often.
Clare looked back up at Ashton. She noticed that he moved a little. She had a freaky talent to know if any one moved even in the most slight move she would notice, also she could sense how they felt when they move. Ashton was feeling a little pain in his right leg. She couldn’t help but ask.
“Something wrong?” Clare asked as she walked over to his side facing the horse, looking at the young stallion’s black coat.
Ashton looked surprised. How did she know? he thought to himself. But he quickly replied in an unconcerned tone;
“No, why?”
“I just have this uncanny thing, I can tell how people feel as they move. It’s a freaky talent that I found out I had when I was five. But it does come in handy when trouble is about.” Clare explained softly. She placed her right hand on the side of the horse’s smooth coat, letting the animal’s warmth seep into her fingers.
“Oh. Ok - you can get up first, then I’ll get on and we’re off.” Ashton disposed of the matter quickly. He didn’t like to discuss things like that, reminded him to much of his own little “gift”.
Ashton bent down on to one knee and held his hands in a cup waiting. Clare looked at him like he was crazy.
“What?” she asked him wondering what to do.
Ashton groaned and looked up at the girl. He cocked an eyebrow and half frowned, he replied rather harshly, “Oh com’ on kid! Step on my hands and get onto the bloody horse!”
The light in Clare’s mind flashed. Usually she really is bright, but she never got out much. Clare lifted a boot and placed into his hands. Ashton pulled up and lifted her onto the horse. Clare swung her leg up and over the horse’s saddle and got comfortable. Ashton jumped on to the horse and swung his leg over the horse. Ashton wrapped his arms around Clare and grabbed hold of the reins. Clare looked down at his arms, large, muscular, and bulky. Ashton pulled on to reins once then kick Black-Soul. Black-Soul neighed and rode off into the dead of night.
Chapter 3 Time to Travel
For a the rest of that night Ashton and Clare traveled. As they traveled on threw the woods it seemed to go on for ever. Tree after tree, the nights was growing colder with each breath. As they went on they meet the end of Jade Forest, and found a pure white and gray world that laid vast before them. They continued on threw the harsh weather letting the harsh Transylvanian snow harshly beat down on to them, cutting into their exposed hands and faces, making them bleed. Every part of Clare’s body was growing numb, she tried to stay warm by backing closer to Ashton’s warm coat trying desperately to stay warm. Ashton tighten his grip around the girl trying to make her warm again. They huddled closer together warming each other slowly but surely. Through out the hours they traveled long and tiredly making their way through.
It was just dusk before the two wonderers saw anything. All day they had traveled and the air had gotten to them harshly, especially Clare. Clare’s face was a pale blue color and scratched from the sharp snow, left her face torn and bleeding. To her it felt as if her entire body went dead and numb. Her eyes were dull and lost their shin, her hair lost its soft curls and its beautiful brown glow. Clare’s teeth chattered viciously and her body trembled terribly. She looked with her half closed eye and saw the faint light that shone over the horizon.
Ashton smiled for a moment then saw the state Clare was in. He looked at the light, it was Carrington about five maybe ten more miles to go. This was the hardest part of the way, nothing to protect them, nothing for fire - nothing was there. The two were in the middle of a vast nowhere, and any one could get lost very easily if they fell asleep. They had to keep going. Originally on a good day, which was rare in a Transylvania winter, a traveler could get a mile per hour, but of course it was winter and everything was white and there was not hint of life for miles around.
Black-Soul had done this trip many times before and knew what lay ahead. The young black stallion pressed on, acting as if nothing could prevent him from disappointing his owner. As the horse pressed on bravely, Ashton looked down at his faithful companion and smiled.
Clare shut her eyes as if to sleep, but her body was slowly slipping away into death. She could hold on no longer. Never before in her short life had she faced such an awful winter, it was to could for her small, slender body.
Ashton felt her body getting colder. He wrapped his coat around her and rubbed warmth into the frozen body.
Clare felt the warmth come into her body, though she was still very cold she slowly opened her eyes and gazed half awake at the faint glow at the horizon. Clare tried to smile but she couldn’t.
They moved onward, the storm had died down a bit but it still was cold. Night fall came and darkened the land, making the faint light brighter. Slowly they three wonderers came closer the town lights were growing bigger, they had only six more miles left. Clare felt her spirit rise slightly as they came closer to the town, and Ashton felt proud they had made it.
It was about an hour before they entered the safety of a new town, they had finally reached Carrington
Chapter 4 Carrington
Carrington looked decent enough. Building, hotels, and apartments crammed close together. The town looked warm and welcoming, the building were made of brick and wood, there was four windows two above two, in each building, lights glowed inside and people walked around in their rooms casting shadows, all the homes looked the same and only had two floor levels. Walking more into town things changed from the quite warm welcome into a destroyed center square. All around drunk men ran after young women, or others were laying dead drunk in the roads. A bomb fire was roaring in the center lighting everything around it, men and women danced around it partying the night away. A pub just two building away from the entrance into the square was light up and in it men were either dancing and singing drunk or fighting. Two huge brutes were fighting and one tossed the other out the window, men in the pub laughed at the sight. Others in the pub men were smooching with the young beautiful waitresses in the back. The town was full of drunks and fights, definitely not the place for a family.
Ashton and Clare rode through the town square, and to the other side of town. There it was calmer but there was the occasional fights. They found a hotel called, Winter Hotel, the usual spot Ashton stayed in when he came here.
Ashton tied up Black-Soul to a post in front of the hotel. Clare did warm up enough to walk, but she still was cold to the touch. The two wanderers walked into the hotel’s lobby
The hotel lobby was a good size. It was quit large and warm, the walls were a light maroon, the floor oak wood. A large fire at the north end was about four feet high was at the far side of the room, chairs and couches were around the fire facing it, off to the south side there were six booths that went into the wall like a caves, at the opposite end off the room from where Ashton and Clare stood there was a check in desk with a wall with shelves and cubbies were stuffed with mess of papers. Around them there were a few drunken men singing merrily away around the fire sloshing their cups of beer around messily, and two couples were in two different booths kissing each other away.
As Ashton and Clare moved to the front desk Ashton whispered under his breath, “Do not give him you real name. Make up another.”
Clare nodded in agreement, she wrapped her arms around her body shivering violently.
When they approached the check in desk a young man stood there, he looked to be around seventeen, a tall, dark, and handsome boy with jet black hair and blue eyes with a perfect figure to match. He was a strong looking fellow and extremely handsome. He wore a bell boy outfit, a white long sleeved shirt under a red velvet vest, a pair of black slacks and a round small hat sat on his head crooked.
“May I help you?” he asked warmly smiling at Clare with his flashing white teeth. He had a deep Romanian accent and an excellent speech to match it all.
Clare shivered as she smiled at the handsome boy. Her teeth chattered a bit but it was unnoticeable. Ashton smiled too, he seen this character many times before and was found of him too.
“We need a room.” Ashton said in a deep Russian accent voice, “For the night sir.”
“Two?” the clerk asked picking up a quill pen.
“One. I am poor and my sister and I can’t afford two.” Ashton lied slyly.
The young clerk looked at Clare, “Sister? Well you look like you need a new dress. You did say one sir? Aright, here is you room key.”
The clerk handed Ashton a single key on a ribbon. The boy smiled at Clare again, he liked her at first sight and felt sorry for her because she had to wear hand-me-downs from Ashton.
“T - t - thank you.” Clare chattered softly to the young man. She rubbed her hands hard over her arms trying to warm her self up.
“No problem. You two look like you’ve been traveling far, you probably need a warm cider.” the clerk said dashingly looking at Clare with warmth.
“That would be nice.” Ashton replied smiling at the young clerk again taking the key generously.
The clerk smiled as he turned from the two supposable brother and sister to fetch two hot ciders.
As he did that Ashton turned to the shivering Clare smiling broadly at her, “His name is James, met him before.” he said in a low whisper, smiling at Clare.
Clare blushed still chattering her teeth violently. She looked up at Ashton, he, too, was extremely handsome and mysterious. She felt something towards him, and wanted him to know how she felt, but the thought of the possible chance he was with Helter was still to great.
James the handsome clerk returned shortly after he left with two steaming hot ciders. He smiled at the two courteously, “Here are your drinks, that with be ten shillings. For the room and drinks.”
Ashton dug into his pocket and pulled out ten shillings. Handing it to James he replied, “Thank you kind sir, my sister and I are very pleased.”
“Glad to hear that, mister. May I ask your names? Need to write them down in the guest book.” James said smiling with pleasure.
Ashton glanced nervously at Clare then looked at James, “Me name is Freddy.” he replied warmly.
Clare had to think of a name when it was her turn and quickly said after Ashton, “M - my name is A - Amber.”
James smiled at Clare just before he turned to the guest book, “Well, welcome Mister Freddy and Madame Amber. I hope you enjoy your stay, please stay in the lobby, and I’ll attend to your needs.”
Clare and Ashton smiled as they each took their ciders. Ashton left to find a booth, as for Clare she stood there looking at the steam rising from the cider. She took a sip and felt its sweet hotness melt the cold away. She let out a sigh of comfort and looked back up at James.
“T - thank you, its r - really is g - good.” she said to him with a smile.
James smiled nearly blushing himself, “Your welcome, Amber. Here, for you.” he cautiously looked around to see if anyone was watching then he pulled out his right hand and in his gloved palm laid four gold shillings.
Clare looked down at the money, “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”
James took Clare’s hand and placed the money in it, “No, its ok. You need it more. I hope you stay here in Carrington and enjoy what you can of it.” he smiled, looking straight into her eyes.
Clare looked at the money in her pale hands and nodded, “Thank you, and I hope I do stay and enjoy Carrington.” she placed the money in her pocket and slowly walked away to find Ashton.
Clare found Ashton drinking his cinder in the corner booth at the far end away from it all. Clare sat down opposite of his looking at the table between them. The booth was small and dark, three candles hung from the ceiling lighting the booth dimly.
“So what did you think?” Ashton said looking off into space with his dark brown eyes all knowingly.
Clare looked at him surprised, her eyebrows raised into her long flowing bangs, “Of what?”
“James.” Ashton replied looking at Clare, an eyebrow raised with curiosity.
Clare smiled and looked down at her hot cider, “He’s cool.”
Ashton looked at the young man over behind the check in desk, “He’s real nice. Saved my neck once.”
Ashton remembered that day;
It was about five months ago, the last time Ashton was here. The police here caught word Ashton Bleak was in town and they went on a search to find him. They almost had Ashton right where they wanted him, but James cut in. James saw the distress Ashton was in and figured who he was, so he cut in telling the police that Ashton Bleak ran towards the south part of town, the police fell for it and ran into the south. James ran and found Ashton telling him he was safe to get away from town. James was the only person in Carrington who knew who Ashton really was.
Ashton blinked and turned back to his cider, taking a large sip from the navy colored mug, “Yep, a great kid.”
Clare took another sip of her cider and felt the shillings in her pocket, she felt happy that some one would give her money, but she also felt bad to take it.
They sat there in silence each drinking their cider in peace. They watched others head off to bed, all looking extremely tired from the party they had. After an hour the only people there in the lobby were Clare, Ashton, and James.
Clare finished her cider and felt warm and happy. She grew tired and dosed off to sleep whilst she sat there straight up, breathing heavily to herself.
Ashton looked at her with his eyes, he carefully studied her thin figure, looking her up and down smiling. He took one last swig of his cider taking up both there mugs and quietly walked to the front desk.
James met him there taking the empty mugs. James turned back to Ashton with a smile, “I was wondering when you’d return.” he said kindly.
Ashton smiled at him, leaning on the desk, “Same here, so what have you been up to?”
James shrugged and looked down at the guest book staring at the name Amber and replied, “Oh nothing. That girl, she isn’t your sister is she?”
Ashton smiled shaking his head, “Nope, just some one I rescued. Long story.”
James placed his elbows on the desk leaning on his cross arms, “Oh. How long are you going to stay?”
Ashton looked at the entrance door, “As long as we can. We do need to gather more food and I need to deliver a message. Rest would do us both good.”
“Oh. Well I would like to know her a bit more. That girl Amber.”
“Amber isn’t her real name. I suggest though that you stand away, she had a rough two days. Her family killed, she was nearly killed herself, and someone is after her, I think.”
James looked up at Ashton. He felt really bad for Clare now knowing what happened, “Oh sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Ashton let out a long sigh, “Don’t worry. Her name is Clare, by the way.” he added as he got up to wake up Clare.
James smiled to himself, “Clare . . .” he sighed happily to himself.
Ashton walked over to Clare and placed a gloved hand on her should, “Hey kid wake up.” he said shaking her roughly.
Clare groaned and opened her eyelids. She jumped and with a swift reaction punched Ashton in the cheek. Ashton fell to the floor moaning to himself holding the side of his face. Clare gasped and fell to the floor on her knees placing her hands to her mouth covering up the scare expression on her face.
“Oh God, Ashton are you -” but she paused to hear laughter. Clare looked down at Ashton who was laying there laughing to himself.
“Oh God! I never before in my life been hit by a women!” Ashton laughed sitting up and leaning on his left arm.
Clare looked at him at first like she was going to hit him again, but her face soften. They looked at each other smiling. Ashton rubbed his cheek again, and got to his feet. Clare stood up to, looking at the bruise she gave Ashton.
“Our room is up stairs.” Ashton chuckled walking away from the lobby and towards the stair way.
Clare placed her right hand over her mouth and wrapped her left arm around her stomach as she watched Ashton walk away. She shook her head smiling to herself.
Walking past the desk Clare heard a noise. It sounded like heavy breathing behind her.
“Clare . . .” said a dry husky voice, “Clare . . .”
Clare dropped her hands to her side, she breathed quicker her heart beating faster. Her eyes looked around in front of her to see any one, she was too frighten to move, “Helter . . . .” her voice trilled out as she breathed.
“Clare.” it said again.
Clare felt warm air being breathed on the back of her neck, chills ran up and down her spine, the hair on her neck stood on end, and her breathing quickened. The breathing came closer and was finally next to her ear whispering, “Clare.”
A hand slipped its way over Clare’s shoulder, squeezing her collar bone gently. Clare whipped her hand and grabbed hold of the hand on her shoulder and swung around, her fist ready to hit. Another hand swung up and grabbed Clare’s fist, and held it back. Clare’s brown hazel eyes widen at the sight.
James the clerk stood there one hand holding Clare’s fist, the other being held by Clare’s other hand. He smiled at her letting go and dropping both hands to his side, “Whose Helter?” he asked calmly.
Clare dropped her hands and looked shamefully down at the ground, “Nobody. Did you hear another voice?”
James looked at her, then raised his gaze to the ceiling, rubbing his chin thinking to himself, “Nope. Why aren’t you up with Ashton?”
Clare looked up at him with wonder, “How’d -”
“We’re friends. You really should go to bed. Carrington isn’t the best place to wonder at night - including inside a building.” James said looking at the window it the outside world. He placed a hand on Clare’s hip turning her towards the stairs. He walked slowly pulling her with him.
Clare followed with no resistance, she waned to be with Ashton where she knew she was secure.
James held Clare close to him as he lead the way. He wanted nothing to happened to a paying customer. He wrapped his arm around Clare’s back, keeping her close so she wouldn’t get lost. Clare stayed next to him as they walked up the dark hall way and down the corridor. It was pitch black but James memorized the rooms and knew exactly which one was hers. They finally reached her room 13. James looked at the door and sighed with relief. He faced Clare who was blinded by the dark, and smiled.
“James - you still there?” Clare said softly raising her hand to feel if he was still there.
James took her hand in his own, holding it caringly, “Yes I’m still here.” he replied softly. He couldn’t see Clare but knew where she was.
Clare wrapped her hand in James, “Thank you.”
James smiled to himself. He had the sudden erg to kiss Clare and this might be his only chance. He placed his empty hand on Clare’s cheek and drew her close to him. Clare felt what he was doing but went along with it. She closed her eyes waiting. James leaned in and kissed her lips gently. Clare felt the kiss and smiled. James drew away and smiled still looking at her, “’Night.” he whispered to her.
Clare nodded and felt him pull away from her presents. She sighed as she turned to the door, softly she knocked, “Ashton? Can I -?”
She pushed the door open a bit and saw light from a candle. Slowly she walked in and saw Ashton sleeping in the single bed. Extra blankets and pillows lay on a chair next to a door. Clare took a thick comforter and a pillow and laid there next to the bed on the rug, thinking. She drifted into sleep peacefully and felt at home there in her little room with Ashton.
Clare woke up. She got up to walk around the dark room trying to clear her mind of the terrible nightmare she had of Helter killing Ashton and James then herself. She walked back and forth between the door and the sleeping Ashton in the bed. The room was still dark and still hard to see. It was about two in the mourning, nothing was moving or wandering through out the hotel - or that’s what Clare thought.
Noises like foot steps were running up and down the hall, and voices were talking in Romanian with slyness. People were out there talking and it wasn’t James.
Clare stopped looking sternly at the door. Fear over swept her head. Slowly on tip toes she moved towards the door and pressed her ear to it. She heard voices but couldn’t make any since of them. There had to be more then three men out side the door. She looked horrified as she listened to the giber-gabber behind her door, and she gasped when she heard a rifle made a reloading click. Hurriedly she made for the bed to wake Ashton.
“Ashton!” she hissed into his ear, “Wake up!”
Ashton eyes shot opened and grabbed his pestle at pointed it at Clare, “What -”
Clare put two fingers on his lips, “Shush! There are men just outside our door.”
Ashton sat up looking at the door, he rushing got out of bed and got to his bag. Clare pulled on her boots and coat. Ashton and Clare moved swiftly and quietly, pulling their things together. Clare moved to the door listening closely to hear if the men left. Nothing. Clare nodded to Ashton. They both were ready to fight if needed. Slowly Ashton pulled the door open, his gun at the ready. Clare looked over his shoulder and saw no one there. Ashton gestured to move on.
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