Alright, this is a story that I happen to be writing; I would prefer constructive criticism (both positive and negative) such as.
Positive:
Hey that's really good! (thank you very much but WHY is it good?)
Negative:
Dude, you couldn't write your way out of a paper bag. It sucks!(ok, well thats terribly helpful. WHY does it suck again?)
Without further a do, my story: Darian Jenson
Darian Jenson
Chapter One:
Holier than thou!
She wasn't a witch, and we all knew this, but it didn't stop the town; they needed someone to out their aggression on and she was their scape goat. She was just different thats all, I write this now knowing that we have murdered an innocent woman. Though my guilt and lies drive me to madness now, I can not take back what I have done; or should I say what I didn't do. My daughter shall be raised not knowing her mother or father. I write my memories of what happened so that future generations may understand and learn from my experiences. To my daughter, whom should know that I love her, and to my wife whom I regret taking that treacherous act against. This is my account of Vivica Jenson, who shall live on forever in the few minds of those overzealous actors that took part in her tragic fate.
"Darian, after our daughter is born I will be leaving. Our marriage has been nothing short of a rude jest and what was once there isn't any longer and I can not stand being here anymore. I'm going back to England, where our daughter and I will live with my parents. She will go to a proper English school for girls and not have to know the life of a worthless artist!"
She raged with those words in days long past but I remember them as if it were only moments ago. Vivica was hardly pleased with they way I chose to earn a living. The life of an artist is not always profitable and my work was not earning nearly enough to live comfortably on.
"Dear, don't be so reckless. The paintings will sell! We just have to give them some time. These people just can't realize the idea of spending money on something that doesn't serve a household purpose. I am sure that things will pick up if we give them time."
I was trying to calm her down, to make her see some reason. Back then I was hopeful that I would be getting some sort of return on the time and money spent in painting supplies and learning a new style in art. Vivica however was not so confident.
"It has been two years since we married Darian! All you ever do with your time now is paint and socialize at the tavern! If I have to spend one more night worrying about where we are going to get money I shall go completely insane! No amount of praying or writing letters to mother and father is going to bring us prosperity! If your ever going to find work it will not be in paint and canvas! Devote yourself to something other than art for a change!"
She was furious now, and when she got this way there was only one thing that she wanted. A fight, and I was going to give her what she wanted. Looking back on it though, maybe I shouldn't have. She had always been rebellious for a woman. Even when I first met her, so this was not unexpected. It dawns on me now that she was pregnant, and it seemed as if she had reached a new height of anger.
"Well dear, if you think you know how to make us prosperous then why don't you tell me! What should I do? If god can't make us happy then tell me! Tell me exactly what to do!"
I remember getting up and walking towards her. I was much taller than she was and my height would seem intimidating to most people. She used to be filled with faith; at church bright and early every Sunday, but now it was almost as if she resented going. She had even purposely missed church on several occasions. I excused her to the church; because of the pregnancy, but she never really had trouble with our daughter. Morning sickness was assured but she had amazed many of the towns midwives at how easily it was for her to carry the child.
"Why don't you help the other men in town put up houses? Or you could help with the planting of next years crop! There are many things you could do to make a living, I just don't think you want a family! I am done asking god for help Darian! Don't you see that? I honestly think that he has abandoned us, maybe it has something to do with this new land!"
I knew all too well that she was only saying that to infuriate me, but back then I may have played into it too easily.
"God doesn't abandon his sheep Vivica! They abandon him!"
After saying that I decided to end the argument and put my overcoat on. I left, slamming the door behind me. My aim was for the church it is only a slight walk down the road but the tavern was closer. On my approach to Orwell's I noticed a young lady crying next to the entrance. I walked over to her to see what was the matter and thats when things began to get slightly strange,
"Excuse me m'lady, Is something bothering you this evening?"
She turned to face me and it was as though the tears drew back into her eyes.
"Why would you say something so strange Darian?"
I didn't recognize her so my train of thought became skewed. Her skin seemed deathly pale and her eyes had the slightest tint of fire on them. I say this meaning that I thought that I saw fire in her eyes and not that she seemed passionate. I know that this may seem crazy and incredibly forward of me, but there was something other-worldly about her. Events became even more perplexing the deeper into the conversation I delved.
"I'm sorry miss, have we met before?"
That question was genuine and clearly needing an answer, what happened next has haunted me in my dreams, it has gotten so bad that I rarely sleep except when my Lilith is at rest.
She began talking but it was much too fast for my ears to decipher. Her lips were honestly moving in a blur. I could barely follow her movements and then she completely disappeared only to be standing behind me the next moment.
"Darian! Immolator of innocence, a true Christian! Ha, I laugh at what you will become. Just remember ignorant one, that life is shortest for those who refuse to support those in need!"
And then she was gone. I understand now what she meant, hindsight tells me that I should have supported Vivica. When the strange woman disappeared the pungent smell of rotten eggs and burnt wood was all that lingered. Shaking off this strange event I moved onward into the tavern and ordered myself a thick lager and told the barkeep, Mr. Orwell to put it on my already mounting tab. It was of good fortune that Mr. Orwell was a dear friend, or else I would have to pay for the drinks in which I seemingly inhaled in his fine establishment night after night.
"How goes it Darian? On this queerest eve of eves?"
Orwell spoke to me in a loud tone, to make conversation over the drunken singing of my fellow townsman.
"What do you mean by that, friend?"
I retorted in a jovial fashion, to shake off the previous events of tonight.
"I am struck by amazement that you have not been told, the church keep was in my tavern earlier. Saying that all who refused to show up for service tomorrow night would be banished to the hellish pit. He said something about how the moon tonight is on the eve of being full, and how the lune is going to be blood red. People are reacting strangely in its shadow, I am surprised that you had not yet noticed."
His tone then was joyous as if he himself had drank a few himself, but also held a tone of worry.
"Ah, don't worry my friend."
I said this after taking quite a large gulp of lager,
"The church keep probably got into the communal wine stores again, you and I both know how he is when he gets drinking."
Then was the first time in my life I mocked a man of the cloth,
"Oh no good sirs! The world is about to end! Say your hail Mary's and make sure you love the Saviour! For tomorrow you may wake up in a pit of a thousand flames, surrounded by the odor of sulfur and brimstone!"
I laughed and slapped my hand against the bar to shrug off my blasphemy and finished my drink. In looking up I found Orwell in a blank stare.
"What is the problem friend?"
"I do belive that is the first time that Mr. At-church-every-sabbath-Darian Jenson has mocked a priest! Ready to join the rest of town Darian?"
He of course was saying this in a mocking tone himself. Of course it wasn't right to mock a priest, but then again when everything is hell and sin and never what good one can do; you have to find an outlet to your discomfort. I had always stood against mocking him in a public forum but then again the night was strange already.
"Oh hold your tongue Orwell! We all know that the church keep isn't quite right in his mind but that doesn't mean that we all should mock him behind his back!"
I laughed and motioned for a refill of my lager,
"Orwell what do you think that the church keep means when he says the odor of sulfur and brimstone? I've always just said amen at the end of each sermon, I never really went looking for a meaning to his words before."
"Well I suppose he means the smell of soured eggs and charred wood, me mother read the bible constantly and me father ran a library in good ol' England and that is the answer they always gave me."
His response seemed genuine so I shrugged off what he had said. Though I should have paid more attention, fore I had not known the value of his words. I had forgotten that exact same smell had been outside the Tavern when the strange woman vanished. However, the lager was good and the tavern was warm so I decided not to make a big deal out of it all.
The night continued on and after my fourth or fifth lager I decided to leave the tavern and head up to the church. I was slightly intoxicated but, the church keep would have to excuse that. He was there for the townspeople and I needed to talk to him. I began walking down the road and suddenly realized that although the moon was almost full, it was quite dark and increasingly hard to see the road ahead of me.
Thats when I heard it, the cry of a wolf that pierced the night air. My attention quickly shifted behind me and three dark figures were there. All dressed in dark clothing and one with pure white hair. Although the one with hair of ivory seemed to be a man, his hair must have been down to his knees. He also appeared to be the leader of the group because the other two were behind him. The odd pack were about two minutes' pace behind me and were simply standing there. As if waiting for something. Once again things got strange. The leader bent down low and let out an earsplitting howl. It was such that I may have mistaken it for a wolf's cry. Then, as though they all erupted from the ends of muskets, they were running at full gait down the road in my direction.
Now I am not one to say that they were running towards me, but I was not one to tempt fate and linger around and find out. I started to run as fast as my unconditioned legs could carry me and slowly, but surely, the church came into sight. Looking behind me and hoping I was safe, I found that I was quite the opposite. They were right behind me and slowly gaining on me. The church was close now and I put all I had into running up the path to the church gate. As my luck would have it however, the gate was closed and having no time to stop and open it, I simply chose to try and vault it.
Realize now that the gate was not of great construction and only about four feet tall, as I went to vault it my foot caught on something and I simply fell into it. My good luck had apparently changed without my consent. My weak stomach collided with the gate and as I broke through it I rolled onto church grounds. While I rolled I looked up to catch sight of two wolves, as black as night and without any stars. Closely following in mid-air, I didn't realize it at the time but the wolves must have been two of those men that were running after me.
This is the part that becomes very strange. I was so full of dread at what was to become of me that I simply laid there. What seemed like a day's time passed by, and it gave me enough time to watch what was happening. The wolves hit the ground of the church and burst into a spout of flame for only an instant and then started cracking and shattering like the remnants of an empty drawing room pipe. The last thing to change were the two pairs of eyes, yellowed in color and piercing as if they could see through one's immortal soul. Suddenly however a deafening wind burst across the land and what seemed to be their bodies shattered away on the winds underneath the glowing moonlight. Out of three of my tormenters however, one was intelligent enough not to follow his fellows. The one with hair of ivory stood on the other side of what used to be the church gate for a short while and then decided to step forward so that I could see his face. He stood on the wood of the gate and felt I was worthy of a short discussion. His words seemed to come from all around me and his voice was raspy, sounding almost like strong wind through fall leaves.
"Look at me Darian, and heed this warning! In several week's time you will have to face a decision, let this night be your guide to the correct choice. The church keep that you put so much stock in is a liar and is keeping something very dear from you. Do not trust him or you will follow in his sin and be taken to hell yourself, and I shall enjoy chasing you until the end of existence! The child that you helped father needs to be taken care of. Make the correct choice Darian! Otherwise you know what shall happen!"
That night the creature's words seemed to be sharper than a hunter's knife, as if they could cut you down mid-stride. I was so scared that I almost lost control of myself and ran; however, I couldn't bring myself to stand. I waited until it turned to leave and right when I thought things would get back to normal it looked back at me and erupted into flame and vanished. Ludicrous as it may sound, it too left behind the scent of spoiled eggs and burnt wood.
I believe that I laid on the church grounds for a while before picking myself up and trying to stand. My mind was shaken to my core, it felt like I had a deep tear through my soul and no stich could pull it back together. Inside the church there were no torches lit but I decided to try and summon the church keep anyway. He came to the entrance hastily and greeted me with a long stare and a lit candle. It seemed that my presence had awakened the old man when I came to his temple; but that didn't matter, his job was to keep me in god's favor and it seemed most recently that I may have fallen from his grace.
I needed the good man's counsel to come to better terms with the situation that I had gotten myself into. We must have talked for a long while about everything that was bothering me because when I closed the door to the Lord's dwelling the sky was in the brighter stages of darkness. I went directly home and made no detour for anything. I was so scared that if I had stopped anywhere, then I would be in further trouble than I had gotten into the night before. When I made it back the previous nightmare of reality had caught up to me and my body began to fail. Upon stumbling into bed I noticed that Vivica was resting serenely; that was the last good thing of her that I shall ever remember. Fore the events to follow set off a long and revolting chain of events.
Darian Jenson chapter 2
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