Hi
Hi. I've never played Assassin's Creed but… I've watched my best friend play a lot of it. I've gathered up SOME information about it… and this is what I've so far come up with. No… sorry to say, Altair doesn't appear in the chapter. I'm hoping to get him in the story at the end of Ch. 2 or the beginning of Ch.3 PLEASE no worries… he'll be coming. Lol.
www.insomniac-xx-.
Chapter One: Do as I say not as I do
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"C'mon, Wednesday, let's go, we'll be late!"
My little sister, Whynter, only the age of nine, was quite demanding and well known for accurate timing. She was rarely late for anything, whether it was school or a random club meeting for her and her friends. Rather adorable I'd like to think. I looked down at my sister, gazing at her beautiful red hair, which… she inherited from my mother. I stuck my tongue at her; she started to jump up and down, shaking her fists at me. Her sapphire blue eyes twinkled in the dusk- sunlight.
Whynter called me down from the tree I was currently stuck in, "I'm trying to-"
snap
Before I knew it, the branch I was once stepping on snapped right from under my feet. Head over heels, literally speaking, I hung upside down in my dress! I panicked, trying to pull my dress over my bare legs. I heard my sister collapsed to the ground laughing.
"Whynter, I'm stuck!" I tried reaching for a near by branch, "Please, help me!"
"Okay okay!" My sister began climbing up the tree.
The sound of a slamming screen door echoed through the trees, "Oh no dad's home!" Whynter held her hand out to me.
My heart fell to the pit of my stomach causing me to lose grip of the branch I clung to, "Wednesday!" I heard my sister scream my name.
I fell fast, knocking my younger sibling right out of the tree. Seconds later, I opened my eyes, our father standing over the two of us. His left hand held a wine bottle; in the other he held a shovel. Whynter moved closer to me, close enough to whisper, is he going to hurt us?
"What was that?" The man inched closer to my feet.
I tired not to pay any attention to Whynter, "N-nothing father."
Our father swigged down what was left of his wine, spinning around and walking away, "You girls better get the house cleaned up."
"Yes sir!" Winter agreed.
The wine bottle father was holding fell to the ground as he walked away. I slowly got up off of the ground, stretching, I helped my sister up after me. We watched, waiting for the man to disappear into the trees.
Whynter shivered beside me, "Is he?"
"Shh, I'll handle it." I grabbed onto Whynter hand and started back to the house.
I stepped forward; Whynter shuffled back, "I don't want to go home."
Turning around, I kneeled in front of the nine-year-old, "Nothing will happen."
"Promise," Whynter crossed her arms, "Not like that one day?"
I wrapped my arms around the child, holding her tightly, "If only we could forget her."
Whynter rested her head on my shoulder; I felt warm tears run down my arm. Her cries, made me ill. Every night since…that one day, Whynter would lie awake crying her self to sleep. Was there anything I could do to help? I pondered, Night after night, day after day, seeing Whynter dazed and confused… lost in thought. It was like looking into a mirror, seeing myself, an innocent nine-year-old…dying inside.
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Our old man was, well obviously unhappy. Mother, a soft, passionate, beautiful lady, her name: Elizabeth Birdie. She was the reason our father stayed sane. Until she joined a secret organization…much like the one our father recently committed him self to. Our small, tight family struggled everyday ever since our mother walked out on us. If at that time I was old enough to understand what was going on, I might have stopped her. Knowing so little, I so naive I let her go… Many families through out the district, found it hard to afford food, water and clothing. Slowly but surely, many of these families eventually got back on their feet and survived this tongue-tied life style. Some how, our father, had my sister and I well kept despite of education. This cold, silent tree filled area… we called home; our town, in the poor district, of lived under no rules. Although there were no rules, there were still boundaries. Upper class villagers' seemed to look down at us, for reason we could not understand such as, the love and care we some how provided one and other. Most families' here worked under stress and complication, trying to make a living for their family. The young such as Whynter and I were set certain regulations. Every household had different rule settings. For instance, in our unit, the slightest twist in convention we'd be punished. Most times, Whynter and I stayed out of our father's way and out of the house. was poor and witty.
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"Oh, sorry, there are no clean dish towels." I shook my in head, "hey, look up stairs in the loft." I directed Whynter.
We hurried around the house. Father seemed to have disappeared once again… for the night… so we worked at our chores until further notice. The house was plain and simple, small and gloomy. Mother redecorated it only weeks before her death.
"Here, here!" Whynter jumped onto the counter beside me.
I washed the dishes as she dried them, "Thank-you." I smiled gratefully.
Whynter and I were thankful to have each other. Since, we had no friends... or any neighbors. Though, father was always away, meaning, we'd be here alone all day working around the house… you'd think life would be boring. Strangely enough my sister and I learned to entertain each other, making mistakes, burning things, building things and just plain old childish games.
"Are you done yet?" Whynter sat on the counter top with her head leaned back on the cabinet.
"Nope, one more plate." I scrubbed an antique plate ever so carefully, "Here you go!"
I passed the plate to Whynter, "Slippery!"
crash
The plate slipped right out my hands onto the floor, "Damn it!" I got down on the floor with some rags picking up all the broken glass.
Whynter peeked out the kitchen window, "He's home!"
"Oh-" before I knew it, Whynter had already left the kitchen running up the stairs to our loft. The sound of his footsteps, his voice, his husk voice, voice of pointless reasoning, scared my young sibling.
"Wednesday," I heard footsteps enter the kitchen, "Where is my other daughter?"
I still sat down on the floor searching for broken glass. Mud from the man's boots trailed behind him up until he stopped in front of me. I rolled my eyes and sighed; only looking at his feet, seeing as I was also afraid.
I wrapped the glass into the rag and got to my feet, "She's folding laundry in the loft."
The man turned around and walked away. Not the loft… she could be doing anything up there! I panicked, oh Whynter, please be doing something constructive…
Still holding onto the rag with glass, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the nine-year-old to come down screaming.
"Good-day father," I heard Whynter's soft voice, "Can I help you with anything?"
Father shuffled over towards her, I hope she doesn't snap. You can do this Whynter, I have faith in you. Maybe he'll give her something to do. I gathered. I waited for several seconds before I heard anyone say anything.
"-tell Wednesday." I heard my father finish.
That's all I got! Tell Wednesday! Tell me what? What was he saying? I tightened my grip, the glass peeked threw the rag cutting my hand open, "Ouch!"
The cut shocked me, I suddenly stepped forward tripping over my own feet. As I quickly got up off the bottom stare step I heard Whynter gasp.
"Wednesday, what were you just doing?" The man stood at the top of the stairs with his hands on his hips.
I saw Whynter standing behind him making impressions on of a person getting their throat sliced open. My eyes widened, what do I say? What do I say?
"Well," the man stepped his way down the stairs, "I'm speaking to you Wednesday."
I backed up hoping maybe; maybe I had the guts to run away. Come on Wednesday, just run! Run away! My knees locked…dead in my tracks. Fail Wednesday- FAIL!
"I was just," I tucked my hands in my pockets, "Umm I was just looking-"
By the time I was finished stumbling over my feeble words it was too late, "You can not trust me." The man started down the staircase.
Whynter gasped again, this time her hands covered her mouth. My own father grabbed me by the collar backing me up into the wall by the stairs, "She's mine too – you ungrateful little wench!"
I felt my face burn as I silently fought for air. Whynter must have made her way out the front door as I did hear the screen door slam. Good girl.
"Smarten up, Elizabeth." He let my collar go. I fell to the floor, clenching my neck, gasping for air. Elizabeth? I shook my head and again stood on two feet, "That's not my name." I dared to talk back to him.
Instead of the man coming at me with his big- brutal hands, he decided to just… walk away. Good plan, walk away old man. I finally dropped my rag and glass; blood seeped through my newly torn flesh. I wiped my hands on my dress and head out the front door to look for Whynter.
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In the next chapter, Wednesday is properly introduced and she also find her sister. Please stay tuned and read more XD
- sneriouslysilent