Part 1
Mary slumped tiredly on the hay, releasing a huge sigh. She slowly opened her light forest green eyes and gazed listlessly to the sky. Her twin braids fell loosely into the straws of hay just as limply as her body. She adjusted her long leafy-green dress and sighed again, more exhausted than most ranch girls. Her family, or her old sickly mother, at the most, was greatly ill, and the family has owed over thousands of dollars for many of the family's generations, and no generation has ever paid them off. Mary was sick and tired of living in debt and having to live with what little food and resources her tight money allowed her to buy.
"If only I was like other girls," she would mumble sadly to herself every night, "and if only I had a boyfriend with the best of fortunes and money, maybe, just maybe I wouldn't be so sad…"
Every night she'd go to bed either hungry or in fear that the people she and her mother owe money to would barge in at any time and tear their little farm apart. She was waiting for the day that large hands would ruthlessly toss her in prison along with her deathly ill mother and let them starve with even less food than they usually do, if that were possible.
She waited for that day… That very day…
"Mary?" her mother called her hoarse and faint voice outside. "Could you come here please, sweetie?"
Mary sighed again and sat up. "Coming, Momma," she hollered as she brushed off the worn dress covered in hay by her knees and raced inside the old and rickety wooden door. She stopped two inches into the little house and gazed at her mother who sat limply in an old chair. Her old wrinkly smile warmed Mary's heart, although it was quite stony and tired of everyday "life."
"There you are, sweetheart," her mother cooed. "Have you finished watering the plants, Mary?"
"Yes Momma."
"Have you fetched the eggs from the chickens?"
"Yes Momma."
"Have you milked the cows?"
"Yes Momma."
"Have you sold the calf for money?"
"I will do that now, Momma."
"Have you raked the leaves and mowed the lawn?"
"No Momma."
"Have you fed the horses?"
"No Momma."
"So you've finished half of your work?" her mother laughed lightly.
"… Yes Momma," Mary mumbled a little disappointedly. She decided to try and change the subject to alleviate her humiliation. "Momma? When can we get rid of this house and live somewhere else?"
Her mother's tiny smile faded away and a sorrowful look immediately replaced it in an instant. "I don't think we'll ever move out of this place, darling," she answered softly. "We've been in debt for 3 decades now; it's very hard, almost impossible for us to move. I'm sorry for all of the inconvenience. Is there something that you truly want out of life?"
Mary was stunned. To think that she complained about her hard life, about all the many things she has lacked and now the many things she could have if she wished overwhelmed her. She wasn't very successful at the age of 16, that's for sure, and she's the only girl in school who didn't have the latest fashions, the best of homes, boyfriends, and the radical electronics that everyone had.
But now her mother asked what she wanted, and all the things she could dream of having demeaned her and made her seem selfish. "Um… I'm not too sure, Momma."
"Really? Don't you want fancy cars, clothes and electronics like all of the other girls, Mary?" her mother asked again, a little surprised of her daughter's unexpected answer.
Mary hesitated and slightly shook her head. "Not really, Momma," she lied.
"Not even a boyfriend?"
Mary lightly blushed and sat down on the couch. "I don't know." She didn't even know her type of boys. What best suits her? Strong and bright, she thought to herself. He must be good-looking and can understand me. I want to be able to open up to him without ever crossing a second thought of doubt… but… That's too much to ask, isn't it?
Suddenly she heard loud male voices outside and trembled in fear.
They have arrived…
"Mary? What was that, dear?" her mother asked in worry.
Mary stared blankly and ever so aimlessly out the shattered window. Her usually shiny and glittering green eyes were so dull and blank that it took the life out of her eyes.
Three men dressed in raggedy clothing came barging into the already weak door and cracked their knuckles. One man smiled and his lips curled into an ever-so frightening snarl.
"Good afternoon, ladies," he greeted with a gruff and not-so-friendly voice, "may I ask you where the money is?"
"Get out! How DARE you barge into our house like that!" Mary demanded angrily, her thin clammy hands balled into tight fists that trembled in a sea of hatred and fear. Her eyes narrowed and tears leaked and spilled down her gaunt face.
The main man chuckled. "Unfortunately this isn't your property anymore," he replied, almost in a sense of condolence. But his dark thin eyes betrayed the pity in an instant. "I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to move out."
"Oh? And where do you suppose we go?" Mary's mother asked neither as timid nor angry as her daughter was. "Do you have a place for us that we can reside in?"
The man grinned and revealed his ugly snarl from within; "Why yes, actually."
"Where to?" Mary asked darkly.
"Wherever your hearts desire," he answered with a laugh and his men shared in the cackling along with him. "Along the street, that it."
Mary felt even more hopeless as, out of fear, she raced for the door and slammed her way out.
The three men immediately ceased their laughing as the general signaled to Mary, saying, "I'll get the kid. You two come follow me after you call for back-up. This old hag ain't goin' anywhere," he smirked at Mary's mother. "Move out!" He zoomed after the trail that the teenage runaway had taken.
Mary, her mother thought in despair, I hope you know what you're doing…
Mary shoved her way past crowds of people and through streets, not looking back. People stared at her, their eyes following her tail in wonder and awe. She ran in the dead-middle of the street, obviously not afraid of the zooming cars and automobiles and threats that surrounded and encompassed her. She leaped nimbly past gaps between cars to avoid crashing into them.
But she was only running. She had no where to go in particular. She had no place to turn to, and no where to hide. Suddenly, a flashback popped into her head…
"Momma," Mary asked, her tiny little hand held onto her mother's in wonder and sadness, "Why are they pushing those people out of the lake like that?"
Her mother sighed and shook her head. "They, unfortunately, are closing the pond down, sweetheart."
"But why? That was our favorite place to go to," her daughter persisted in entering the forbidden area. Her glistening emerald eyes welled up with tears. She held on to the scratching lacing of her mother's dress, as if pleading for comfort.
Her mother sighed and kneeled to her child's level. "I know, baby. They don't want people making it dirty. If you want, though," she smiled onto her little girl, "You can come hide here when you need to."
Mary looked up back to her mother in total shock as if her soul was accepted into heaven. "… R-really? I can come back here?"
Her mother laughed. "You may. Only when the time is right…"
Only when the time is right…
That time was now…
Mary felt her body jerk in front of her as a large beefy hand clasped her elbow and yanked her backwards. She almost had tripped on her own two feet from the huge force, but somehow managed to stay nailed on her feet. Her eyes frighteningly searched into the man's for remorse or pity, but saw nothing but pure bliss in her capture.
"Caught you, little girl," the man cackled in delight as he pulled her closer to him as he grabbed her arms even tighter than before. "You won't get away this time!"
Mary struggled and writhed in pain and desperation to escape, but suddenly stopped as she gazed at the many more men that followed behind him. Were there 6 more? No, there had to be 10. Mary counted 12 in front, but she was sure there were still a few more behind them. She felt her heart sink in a sea of despair and shatter at the very core of her chest. What was she to do?
"Man, do you need all of these men just to capture a little girl?" a young tenor voice had asked from in front of the capturer and behind Mary. With what little strength she had, she turned her head to see a boy just standing there in total awe.
He was quite tall, taller than Mary who was 5'5", and had straw-like blond hair that was muddled over his oceanic blue eyes. He wore a long draping blue tunic as bright as his eyes, and was buckled at his waist with a belt. He wore a long sky-blue sweatshirt under the tunic, and long white leggings underneath. His brown dusty boots leveled almost to his knees, adding up to a strangely clad boy.
He wasn't from here, was he? She thought in wonder. His clothes were so peculiar, and his skin ever so pale. But the only thing she could manage to look at, of all things on the lad, was his eyes.
A smirk curled its way onto the corners of his lips as he replied once more, "She's a tough gal, isn't she? Obviously more better and nimble than you folks."
The man holding Mary captive snarled and barked, "Shut up, pest! I'll pound you to the dirt!"
The boy let out a hearty laugh. "Now how can you do that when you got a little girl with you? Is it possible?"
"Want me to show you?" the tall gentleman snickered as he dropped Mary ruthlessly onto the floor. She let out a small yelp and brushed off the tiny rocks piercing her hand. She looked back into the newcomer's (the boy) eyes and saw not a speck of amusement on the treatment the man bestowed her.
"Rude, aren't ya?" the boy cocked his head. "If I do recall, weren't gentlemen supposed to treat women with respect as a sign of chivalry and civilization? Oh wait, now I remember!" The boy laughed and cackled to himself. "Only smart guys do that!"
Mary blinked. This boy was cheeky, she had to admit, but now was the perfect time for it. No one was up for his joke, however.
Growls came back in response to the boy's crude humor. The main man stormed in front of his, fist raised in the air, as he bellowed, "You're finished!"
A twinkle flashed in the boy's eye as he moved away so fast he was almost a blur. Mary's eyes widened in awe at his agility and dodging skills. She gaped in wonder and thought to herself about the many possible ways he could become so nimble.
"What the hell?" the man stared at the boy who missed his punch by a mile. "What is with this kid?"
The boy chuckled. "As always, you tough egomaniacal men underestimate the short kid, huh? Well, you're sadly mistaken!" His left arm reached behind his back in a flash as his sword, golden hilt, silver blade and all, shone under the sunlight in a foreboding manner.
"The kid has a weapon! Men, prepare yourselves!" the general shouted. All of the guys encompassed the boy, outnumbering him, over-12 to one. But the boy didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he grinned and chirped happily, "Cool! As they say, 'the more, the merrier!'"
"Shut up, kid!" One man declared as he lunged for the outnumbered child. All men followed in his example and dove in to attack.
Mary thought the kid was done for. The very boy who so desperately tried to help her was going to be smashed in a matter of seconds… and there was nothing she could do about it… She was trapped in a sea of guilt and misery…
… Again…
Mary tilted her head to the sky and released a bloodcurdling cry. Tears sped down her cheeks as she felt her heart stop beating. This kid was dead. There was no way he could take on that many men without losing his life in the process. It was over in a flash, just like how it all started.
All of the men landed with a thud as an uproar of guys began to search frantically for the mischievous boy. Mary knew he was under there somewhere, suffocating from lack of air. It pained her eyes to watch the horror. She sobbed over the loss of the child. But there was no sign of him. She didn't see his ratty hair or his blue clothing; not even his silver was spotted in the swarm of muscular men. Where was he?
Was he really beneath all of those men?
"Those guys are stupid, aren't they?"
Mary gazed up to see the boy standing above her, obviously uninterested, sheathing his sword. He took a seat next to her and smirked at the mess of guards on top of one another. She gasped and quickly wiped away her tears. "W- What? How on earth did you manage to get out of there alive?" She scanned his body, his clothing and pale skin in particular, and hollered, "How did you do that? There isn't even a cut on you!"
The boy laughed again as he crowed triumphantly, "I'm a master swordsman! I've been training on taking hits, dodging them, and delivering them my entire life!"
Mary stared at him in utter disbelief. Are you kidding? "Since when?"
The boy stopped laughing so hard and looked at her again. "Um… Actually, I don't recall…"
That long ago? She sighed and muttered, "Wow."
The boy tried to look into her dark green eyes again. Immediately he sensed pain, and he asked, "Is something wrong?"
"These men are trying to capture me," she answered blankly.
"Oh really?" he stared back murderously at the pile of men recovering from their fall and stood up. He grabbed Mary's hand and dragged her up as well. "Well then, come on!"
The men noticed (finally) the two children running away from the scene away in retreat. They growled and ordered, "After them!" All of the security men raced after them on full speed.
The boy looked behind him to see the gang of fools catching up fast. He cursed under his own breath and actually picked up Mary. She let out a squeal as he raced twice the speed he had just used a minute ago. He was bolting down the streets and past the cars in fury to escape the men. Luckily the followers were slowing down.
Mary was screaming and shouting in fear, but in a few seconds she actually got used to it. She sat back and almost smiled to herself as she let this boy carry off her followers and even her problems and fears.
Instantly, a sudden fear swept past her eyes and flashed in her mind like a neon sign:
Her mother was still captive…
At the perfect time, when the two children were far ahead of the men, she squirmed again and bellowed to the boy, "Let me go! Put me down now!"
"Why?" he retorted. "Do you WANT to be captured by those freaks?"
Mary wriggled even more until the boy obliged and released his tight grip on her. She stood in front of him and slapped him square in the face. He gaped at her and his hand raised slowly to caress the flushed cheek.
"Ask me questions before you carry me off like that again! Do you hear me, dude?"
She demanded rashly, pointing a sharp and furious finger at him. Her flaming emerald eyes burned with the desire to slap him again.
He blinked in shock and couldn't take his eyes off of hers. "Okay…" he turned back to the men catching up to them and queried, "How much money do you owe them bastards?"
Mary scowled at him with a look of pure hatred and turned away abruptly. This boy wasn't concerned for her! He only wanted to know how much MONEY she owes the government! How greedy and rude!
The boy was dumbfounded in her absence in acknowledging him. He growled silently to himself and then shouted his outburst; "Well then what DO you want me to ask you, what size your boobs are?"
Mary hated him even more, but she made no move to turn around and look at him. His sight was sickening now. He only seemed to worry about money and ladies. Nothing more like she had hoped, unfortunately.
There goes my romance, she thought sadly.
"Wait! Don't leave me here alone!" he called, trying to reach her. But he made no move otherwise.
Mary shot him a nasty glare and growled, "Come back when you want more out of life than money and women…" And with that she continued on her way back to her house.
The boy sat there wondering to himself, "What money? WHAT women?" But there was nothing he could say to gain back the girl's trust. There was nothing else to do but watch the fight go down and watch her surrender in fear and misery.
Mary hid behind a thick bundle of bamboo trees and watched more men, tougher and more armed, securing the house from people breaking in, out, or from her being sighted. She clenched her hands together in worry and fear, wondering if her mother was still held captive inside the torn and tiny "jail" that used to be their home. Her eyes watered again and her mind kept on extracting ideas to break in, some of them the most senile of people would do. She concluded that she should just run in and find her mother, then reach for whatever weapon was around and use it to keep the men away… Then she and her mother could escape to the forbidden and hidden lake she's been thinking about for the past 2 hours.
"I'll go for it," she told herself again and again as she raced into the house. The security men called others on their walkie-talkies and followed in after her. Mary was rushing inside without hesitation, only to see her mother gone from her chair. Where did those bastards take her?
"You're cornered, little girl," the men told her darkly and rashly as they picked up her tiny body compared to their size and carried her out.
"No! Put me down! Where did you take my Momma?" she struggled to free herself again. "I won't let you carry me away!"
"Quit yer yapping, girl," the man demanded again, shaking her to silence her. "If you behave, we'll guarantee your mother's safety."
Mary did not want to surrender, but if it was for her mother, then she had no choice. Her thoughts traced back to the boy she met earlier. She recalled her developing hate for him, but she had really hoped he would return, or that someone like him, more CIVIL, would show up and rescue her. But of course it was too much to ask.
Instantly the man stopped walking as he cringed as if he were in pain. Mary looked up at him and escaped before he fell flat-faced onto the floor. She turned behind her to see the same blue clad boy grinning from ear to ear back at her.
"Glad I showed up?" he asked with a laugh.
Mary wanted to insult him or rebuff, but she had to admit that she was relieved to see his cheeky face again.
"Ugh, you again!" the security men groaned as they pulled out their guns. "Move out of the way before you get hurt."
"Better follow your own warning, dudes," the boy stuck out his tongue at them mischievously and laughed his special laugh again. "It'll be YOU who'll end up limp and handicap!"
Mary could not help but giggle at the child's comeback. The guards growled at him in disgust and cocked their pistols.
"You're gonna regret you said that, boy," one man said, adjusting his shades in an orderly fashion and grumbled, "You're all talk and no walk so far."
"Have you looked in the mirror, lately?" the boy asked again, smirking as he scanned the body of his opponent in confidence and cockiness.
"That's it! Take the boy's head. I want the girl alive and unharmed!" the angry general ordered as he aimed his rifle towards the child, who stood there grinning from ear to ear and lacking fear and shyness.
Mary gasped as a man approached her, arms clawed and armed outward in both directions, preventing her from escape. She backed away, step by step until her fingers feebly and gingerly poked at the rake behind her. She grabbed a hold of it and swung it above her head. She missed a good blow to the head, but she in fact struck his collar bone and she grinned to herself as she was a spectator of the man's cringing and writhing in pain. She turned over to her hero and shouted, "Good luck, kid!"
"Count on it, gal!" the boy winked as he once again had swung out his blade and slashed at the man's arm. The blade was not close enough to actually dismember the arm from its limb, but it was deep enough to spray out a fountain of blood from the huge and excruciating wound. The man howled in pain as he had released his pistol from his numb fingers.
Mary squealed from the gushing and seeping blood, but she nonetheless clapped for the boy at his fabulous escape.
"Oh no, you don't." Another person dressed in a suit yanked out a tiny gun of his own and fired. The bullet sped towards the boy and slashed open a fresh and straight cut that ran from the front of his cheek to his ear. He frowned and flinched in agony, trying to stop the blood from leaking out of the wound.
Mary gasped and tried to run to him again. "Oh no! Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he answered dully, as he glared back up at the wrongdoer. "Some nerve you have, pointing that son-of-a-gun at me. I'll teach you to mess with me!" He leaped up and swung his sword at the man, creating an even deeper and more gruesome gory injury than the first man's. The huge cut ran down from the chin all the way to the oblique in a jagged and rough line. The new suit was horribly stained with blood as the tall security guard yelped in pain and quivered on the floor.
Another bullet made its way and dug straight into the boy's right arm. He cried out in pain and crumpled onto his knees as if groveling to the guards. He gritted his teeth and seethed in agony as he desperately tried to alleviate the pain.
"He's nothing but a stupid child," the first man walked up, glaring his stony and mocking eyes down onto the teen. "Too bad this is the end of the line for you."
The boy panted and wheezed heavily. But in the end, he smiled cunning and began to laugh heartily. The men frowned in utter confusion. Even Mary, who was staring straight into the wounds of her hero, was surprised to hear that unique laugh again.
"You men made the most terrible mistakes of your lives…" he replied coldly, his oceanic eyes, once glistening and now frozen in ice, twinkled in his conniving irises. "Your first mistake was patrolling this girl's house… Your second was to shoot my right arm, instead of my left that I use my sword with… And third…"
"You're left handed? No… it can't be…" The men began to draw back from the child who was now standing up in a frightening manner as if he was possessed by an evil spirit, which Mary had to admit she thought so too. The happy and egotistical boy was gone; it was entirely replaced at the moment by a blood lusting demon that had no desire more important than to tear apart its victim limb from limb. His smile, which was heart-warming primarily, was now a spine-chilling factor that foreshadowed the fate of the security guards. "You're… You're…"
"And third…" the teenager concluded, his voice a mere whisper, "… And third, you came across my path AT ALL!" He chased after the men and swung his sword around, actually beheading some of the men that ever did him wrong. The man that shot the child's right arm was no more; his head lay crippled and immobile in the grass, his eyes staring wide out into space forever.
Mary clasped her pounding heart as it ached and throbbed in fear. This boy wasn't the same as before; had she truly underestimated him?
It would appear so. The happy-go-lucky spirit was absent in this ghastly scene as the demon inside of the boy was controlling what was left of his body. Blood from the slaughtered men spilled and stained the floor and the entire atmosphere stank of rotting flesh. Mary held her nose to alleviate her nausea, but she had remembered that several gallons of the blood were from the boy as well. His wounds were almost no better than the dying men that tried to escape.
She stood up from her spot and thought about stopping his feud of annihilating what was left of the security guards. But she knew she would take the high risk of being slaughtered in the process.
No matter. It was now or never.
Mary raced over to the boy and held onto his left and unharmed arm to hopefully stop him. "No! Please stop this! I'm begging you!"
"Let go of me!" The boy tossed her down onto the grass that was pitifully crimson red from stained vital fluid, but his anger faded away when he met her pleading eyes. He was now silent as he felt guilt and regret swallow him whole.
"Please stop this," Mary cried again, tears filling the corner of her eyes. "You don't have to fight anymore… The men are gone… There's none left."
The boy gazed around the entire acre looking for any sign of life in the battlefield. There was neither a sound nor a soul to be found.
"W….. What have I done?" he asked himself as he stared down on his hand in total shock. "Did… Did I do all of this?" His hand clenched into a tight fist as anger shook it violently and rapturously. "What on earth happened to me?"
Mary sighed in pity and settled a caressing hand on his fist. "It's okay, right? You didn't really mean to do all of this, did you?"
The teen exhaled slowly but held on to the last ounce of breath he had as if it were his final breath. "I don't know…"
Mary pulled onto his wrist. "Well, come with me. I'll lead you somewhere."
The boy reluctantly followed. I'm a threat to her, he thought sadly as guilt munched on his heart. She can't trust me… All the things I did over there… If it wasn't for me looking into her eyes like that… nothing would've stopped me from killing her. Her eyes… were so sad… as if she had lost her whole world because of me… Who was I to do such a thing like that…? To think I was one single centimeter away from beheading her like those bastards…
… Really upsets me…