Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Eleanor Elisabeth Stone. I lived a century ago on a small farm in Texas with my parents and two brothers, it was there that we raised horses, chickens, and cows and then sold them to slaughter houses in order to make a living. I was only nineteen at the time. Young, but not incompetent. I had seen no wars, nor had I seen a man die. But I knew the difference from right and wrong, and I knew that's what mattered.
It was dawn; the horizon to the east was just beginning to layer itself into the usual bright shades of yellow, pink, and orange. A cool breeze came from the north, bringing with it the pure scent of rain. I had woken early, so I had time to waste before starting my daily chores. I absentmindedly wandered through the tall grass of the fields for some time until I reached the clearing, signally the edge of my land. I lied down on the cool ground, looking up toward the sky, making shapes out of each new cloud that formed. I was just beginning to make a rabbit out of one of the clouds with I heard the chickens start to get restless.
"Okay, okay, I'm coming." I called out to no one in particular as I crawled back up to my feet. As I headed to the stables, I marveled at how beautifully the sun played off my surroundings. My walk seemed to drag on, but I could hear the horses just up ahead and I knew I didn't have far to go. A forest grazed the trail I walked; the trees loomed threateningly above, sighing in the gentle breeze. My ears detected a faint murmur in the forest to my left. My eyes flickered to the thick trees and I struggled to see through the darkness. From the shadows appeared two incandescent eyes, though they appeared the eyes of a man, the color was nearing an inhuman crimson hue. Had there been any onlookers they would have seen nothing more than a man, but this was no man. Though he towered above me, I could see him plainly. His eyes bored into me as if he were trying to see through me, giving a whole new meaning to the phrase, "If looks could kill." He stood only a few yards from me as he took slow deliberate steps out of the darkness and into clear view. His skin was paler than any human's I had ever seen before, as if he'd been locked inside a windowless room for years. The bit of morning light that shone down on him caused his skin to dance with it's own light which, in turn, displayed just how well built this thing was. Cocking his head to the side, he spoke in a thick, unknown accent, "Well, well. What's a pretty little girl like yourself doing wandering around all alone?" Though my better judgement was screaming in protest, I propped my hands on my hips, holding my ground, "This is my land, and it would seem to me that you are trespassing." He didn't say anything after that but, after what seemed like a small eternity, he took another step toward me and placed his hand on my shoulder. Even with such little contact, I could feel the cool radiating off of his skin, seeping into my own flesh.
My heart danced in my chest and my throat constricted, forcing me unable to string comprehensible words together. Despite the terror exploding through my veins, I stood unable to move even a foot. The thing probed me with it's haunting eyes, a ghastly expression flickering over it's face. I saw him smile and, before I could even grasp what was happening, he removed his hand from my shoulder and lunged toward me. He crashed into me, knocking me to the ground. As I gasped for the air that was lost on impact, he climbed on top of me, capturing my legs beneath his. Beating my fists against his chest, I fought to keep him from what he was about to do, "No, no no, please don't!" My mind wandered, and instantly found home in the memory of my fiance', Peter. We'd been together for two years and were planning an Autumn wedding. Like any young couple in our time, physical contact was taboo before marriage, but we didn't have to try hard to abstain, we both believed that our purity was a gift from God that was never meant to be given away with such disregard. This is why my heart sank as I looked up toward the monster hovering above me. Pinning one arm above my head, the monster moved his free hand to my throat, letting his fingers play along my collar bone a bit before tugging both of my arms down, pinning my wrists under his knees. I could feel the sharp rocks dig into my flesh, no doubt breaking the skin. I watched in protest as he reached into his shirt pocket, retrieving a straight blade razor.
[On to chapter two...]
