LucienThe days blended into each other, the greyness around them changing to white during the mid-morning, only to become a bleak grey at night. One morning, a few days later, he caught the old man alone. On seeing him, the old fellow tried to quicken his pace but Lucien was swifter and lunging forward from his imprisonment near the bed, he grabbed the man’s neck.‘How did I get here?’ he snarled, his cold eyes showing his willingness to kill if need be.Quavering, the thin man sank to the ground. He barely weighed more than a few pounds, thought Lucien. the old crone kept him underfed but Lucien could not feel any pity towards him. he gripped the man’s thin hair, tilting his head back forcefully.‘Speak, ‘he ordered cruelly and kicked the man savagely.*Wheezing in pain, the old man gave him a detailed account of how they had found him. It had snowed lightly the previous night, he said and the river was in spate. Lucien’s body had washed up on the river bank near sundown when the
LucienHe swung the axe up in the air with his powerful arms. He had discovered where the gun was. It was kept hidden in the woman’s bed, beside her pillow, and stored under a pile of smelly blankets. He swung the axe again and brought it down on the logs, splitting them with the force of his powerful blow.A Nosler M48 TGR 2010A, he reflected absently as he paused to wipe the sweat from his face and arms. As always, he had discarded the jacket, and he was bare-chested as he worked. One of the best hunting rifles, one that he had also examined a long time ago when he had been doing business with a Texan dealer.It was a large hunting rifle that she kept clean and ready. He had seen it the day she had killed a rabbit with it. An act of mindless cruelty, he thought as he watched the old man pick up the limp body of the dead animal. But he had seen where she kept it and had later asked the old man Gustav about it when the crone had set off on one of her sojourns into the forest.Gusta
Proserpina We entered the small store that was tucked at the corner of the lane leading off into a narrow, cobbled road that seemed to be climbing up to more houses and then swerved away. Picturesque, I thought but the beauty of the scene was lost on me.On entering the shop, we discovered that it sold things like soap and other necessities. The afternoon sun was waning, and we just had a meal at the local restaurant, a quaint little place. Perhaps in another time, I would have been fascinated by the old-world charm of the polished wooden chairs and the small room with the furniture that seemed to have been collected from many parts of the world.The coffee they served was aromatic and out of this world, bringing a welcome warmth to my tired body. Cupping my hands around the mug, I pulled the hood of my coat down and surveyed the place. Aiyana was sipping the Kofola, a spicy sort of Slovakian coke and she seemed to be enjoying it. Schwartz was tense and watchful as he sipped his ca
Proserpina“Don't mind her. Our Ivica is a strange one.” murmured the cashier looking vaguely annoyed as she began to return the old woman’s purchases to the counter.”Where does she live?” asked Aiyana, curiously.“Oh, by the river, far into the woods.” the woman sighed in exasperation and went on. “She lives alone with her father-in-law, a crazy old man. Not that she’s any less eccentric.”And she continued, oblivious to our heightened interest as she chattered away,“Doesn’t come down very often does our Ivica. But lately, she has been buying a lot of food. Too much for two people, I would say.”She smiled and turned.“Now, how can I help you?”*Phillippe had darted out of the shop and had bounded after the bus. But it had already trundled off. The two teenage girls who had been making eyes at him in the store stood around, leaning on their bicycles, giggling and gossiping. Without waiting to think, he darted across to them and said,“Please, can I have your bike?” he cried brea
IvicaShe stood in the doorway, her face red with exertion and fury. The rage that had been growing in her steadily as she plunged down the slope, coming to a stop before the little house, made her feel anxious and upset.He was going to leave her. Stefan, her husband, was about to leave her again.Both Lucien and Gustav looked up in some surprise as she loomed in the doorway, the late afternoon sunlight flooding into the room, making her seem larger than she was, more menacing, somehow.Lucien was watchful as he studied her expression.The chain around his ankle was heavy and restricting as he stood up, feet planted on the ground, bracing to handle the mad woman who stood, shoulders heaving, glaring at him.Something had made her unsettled and even frightened, not a good sign, thought Lucien. Frowning, he scratched his beard, the grey beard that made him look more uncivilised than ever. His wound was healing, the stab marks were visible, but the wound throbbed sometimes. It hurt no
ProserpinaThe man who had given us the directions was bundled into the car by Toth’s man, and we set off at a swift pace. I sat, clutching my hands, wringing them together.Please, God, I prayed fervently, Please, let Lucien be safe.For in my mind, I had no doubt whatsoever.the old woman had Lucien in her clutches. The way she had looked at me, venom in her eyes when she heard my name, the vehemence of her reaction on overhearing the reason behind our asking questions; yes, I knew with all my heart that she had to be the one who had kept Lucien with herself for some reason in her crabbed, demented soul.I was going to beg, to plead, to do anything and everything in my power to bring my lover out of this horrible situation alive.Schwartz glanced at her.His love for her remained as steadfast as ever, as his eyes gently caressed her taut white features. The plump mouth appeared to be pink from her having bitten her lips and he longed to kiss her softly. In his heart, he knew he woul
PhilippeHe heard the sounds and his heart, pounding furiously, almost stopped for a beat. He had now managed to creep up to the side of the broken-down shed beside the house. Peering around cautiously, he heard the shrill treble of a woman and another voice, an old man. The father-in-law, he thought suddenly. They were speaking excitedly and then, a sudden loud sound penetrated his thoughts, making him jump. Breathing feverishly, the young boy listened intently.And he heard his Boss groan loudly.Phillippe clutched the worn-out wooden panels of the shed, his eyes round in fear.A feeling of fury coursed through him.Were they too late?’ he thought anxiously. A memory of Proserpina and her piteous expression as she heard of how the old woman they had seen in the shop, might be holding Lucien prisoner, seemed to appear before his eyes, swimming in his vision.Steeling himself, he stood, looking around wildly for a weapon.*ProserpinaThe car did not seem to be going fast enough. Chew
SchwartzHe crouched low in the undergrowth and trained his gun on the hill, the rise where the vehicle would appear. All about him, the massive trees stretched their bare arms to the sky in supplication. The harsh winter wind whipped through the dry leaves, causing them to shower onto the ground. The eerie sound of the wind as it wailed added to the desolate feeling. A land of emptiness despite being so rich, he thought as he waited. The stories these trees could tell, he thought as he glanced around quickly, the tales of wanderers going hiking, never to be found again. James Schwartz had positioned himself in such a way that he could see the slope from where the car would emerge. Having donned his camouflage jacket, he blended well with the dull brown of the world around him. Having been a sure shot snipe in the US Army for many years, he was already calm and watchful, alert as ever, his mind clear as he focused on sounds and movement. He shut an eye and peered through the scope. H