The Final Storm
Prologue
by Scarlet Eve
A/N: BACK! Sorry it took so long to bring you something new. I have been working on making it as awesome as possible. And I know none of you are holding your breath, but I will get to my alternate ending for The Bounty. Also, if you are interested, follow me on Twitter flyinghigh05, or check my profile for other ways of getting in touch with me! Onward!
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The half moon hid behind the clouds, casting the countryside in near total darkness. Stars blazed across the heavens towards Earth, dotting the sky like diamonds. Trees and bushes bent in the gentle wind that blew, cutting through the spring humidity that had settled over the area during the day. The rustling of the trees made perfect cover for the sound of footsteps up the gravel drive.
The stakeout couldn't have gone more perfectly. It only took a couple of days to determine that the man of the home was not around, and the only other able bodied men were the farm hands, who slept in cottages a good distance from the main house. There was the old butler, but he hardly posed a threat. The real prize was the young wife. She would hardly put up a fight, especially not after a quick thump to the head. She would fetch a large ransom from this rich man living in the rich house. Surely no price was too high for him to get his precious flower back safely.
Someone else had made the attempt a few months prior, the whole affair was bungled and messy. The man of the house had been home, and armed. The snow that had melted and refrozen many times over made too much noise to walk through. And of course there were the footprints left behind. No stakeout, no research. That's why the other man had failed. And that was why he would succeed. He'd done the work and would be rewarded with a successful kidnapping.
He approached the large house, cutting through the trees to remain hidden in their shadows. Soon, the front of the house was visible through the darkness. A few candles had been left burning in the windows, but otherwise the house was dark. Over the grass and up the steps of the wrap around front porch, he was finally at the front door. He pulled a knife from his boot pocket and stuck it between the two doors. He knew the lock wouldn't be hard to open. After a moment of wiggling the knife up and door, he heard the click. The knife was pulled back and replaced in the boot and the door was gently swung open.
The house was silent. A good sign. He stepped into the entryway, careful of potentially creaky floorboards. If his assumption of the layout of the house was accurate, the mistress's room would be on the second floor. He crept towards the stairs and began to climb slowly, sticking to the edge of the step to avoid making too much noise from the well worn steps. He reached the second floor landing and stepped around the banister.
There was a candle lit on a small table at the window at the end of the hall. It was one he'd seen from the outside. The candle was giving off a faint orange glow. There was a closed door towards that corner of the house. A small table with flowers was beside the door, and on the other side, a silver tray with the leftovers of what must have been late night tea. It was her room.
His feet padded lightly on the thick rug that ran down the length of the hallway. He paused for a moment when he thought he heard rustling. The sound passed and silence resumed. A few more steps, and he stood at the door. His hand extended out and his fingers wrapped around the doorknob. With a slow, deliberate turn, the knob released the catch, and he pushed the door open.
The room was indeed a bedroom, with a large canopy bed in the center, surrounded by various pieces of furniture. A window was open to allow the cool night air into the room. The curtains around the canopy bed were drawn, but the curtains were sheer things, mostly for decoration. He could see the lump of a body beneath the blankets on the bed.
He took two steps into the room. Nothing. One more step.
The floorboard under his foot creaked loudly.
The body on the bed stirred and sat up in bed. "James?" came a sleepy voice. The golden head lifted from the pillow. He froze.
She screamed. On impulse, he lunged for her, wanting to stop the sound emitting from her. She scrambled backwards on the bed as he moved towards her. He tried to push his way through the curtains surrounding her bed, but they proved to be more complicated than he originally thought. He couldn't find the opening. And she just kept screaming.
"Shut up!" he shouted at her. He stepped away and began to move around to the other side of the bed when he heard an audible click behind him. He whirled around and saw the old butler staring at him from the doorway, dressed in his pajamas, a very large revolver in his hands. The woman finally stopped screaming.
"No," he said. He was trapped. In a flash, he saw that the woman in the bed was climbing out, fumbling with a knife that must have been hidden nearby, and though she looked clumsy, she still had an upper hand. He decided quickly that he was going for the old man. He pulled his own knife from his boot and ran towards the old man.
A blast of fire ripped through the darkness and smacked against his chest. The large round ripped through him, taking his heartbeat with him. He crumpled to the ground at the old man's feet, his lifeblood seeping from his chest onto the old wood floor.
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Chapter 1 will be up soon.
-Scarlet Eve