Chapter one
My eyes opened as my mother called my name. The sun had not even peeked over the distant hills as I climbed out of my heap of rags and walked over to the table. A small loaf of bread and milk sat out waiting for me to fill my tight stomach. My mouth watered at the sight of the meager meal.
I looked over at mother. Her hair was gray; it hung loosely from the bun that was hopelessly tied at the back of her head. Deep wrinkles prematurely lined her face. Her face looked old, worn, tired and thin from hunger. I watched her bony hands work as she washed my clothes. They were thin and wrinkled from years of hard work.
I looked back down at my pitiful excuse for a meal. I knew I got the most food of everyone in the house and that weighed on my conscience. My stomach growled as I tore the bread in half.
I pressed one half into my mother's hands and kissed her on the forehead.
"I'm not very hungry today mother. Please take this and share it with Isabell."
Tears began to fill her eyes. "Please don't. You have to eat." She tried to give the bread back but I shook my head.
Grabbing up the milk I guzzled some down, leaving more for my mother and sister. Ignoring the still gnawing hunger I walked out of the small shack we called a home.
Once outside I grabbed a pail and entered the shed.
"Morning girl." The cow looked at me as if asking what took so long. "Isabell's sick now, so how about you give us a bit more milk than yesterday. We hardly had enough to drink between the three of us. If you do we might even be able to sell some for some medicine or a new dress for mother." Patting her I got to work. First milking then changing the food. Cleaning her bedding then putting the milk away. When I finally finished my hands throbbed.
It had taken over two hours and the sun was coming up. The sky was pink and yellow… Isabell's favorite colors.
I walked back into the house to find Isabell wrapped tightly in her ragged dirty blanket. She sat at the table with her piece of bread. She was thin and gaunt but her eyes were bright and shining.
When I walked in her head shot up and a smile spread across her face.
"Happy 19th birthday William!"
"What?" I looked at her confused.
Mother gave a small chuckle. "You didn't even remember that it was your birthday."
"Yeah! And, and I got you a present!" Isabell held out her hands.
I held my hands out to hers. Carefully Isabell placed something into them. Compared to hers mine were giant. Hers were thinner then mother's and they shook constantly.
Looking down at my palm my eyes started to tear. A small piece of black cloth with a wooden strip threaded on it lay in my palm with an inscription carved in the wood.
"The Brother I Love." Isabell read. "I carved them my self. And on the back it has all four of our names." Her grin widened.
A tear slid from my eye. My throat was tight. Isabell understood and took it from me.
"Now even dad will still be here."
She tied it carefully around my wrist. It was hard for her since her hands were shaking, but she managed.
I scooped my sister up into a big hug. "Thanks Sis." It was the first present I had gotten in over three years, ever since dad died. Mom could never afford much for us.
Mother sat in the corner, her face wet. She straightened up, trying to compose herself. "Ok, you better get going or you'll be late to work." She handed me my freshly washed clothes.
The sun had passed the highest point in the sky, and was now descending. The heat of the day was finally lessening, but I was still sweating horribly. However, I hardly noticed the beads of sweat rolling down my back. I clutched at my tools, pressing carefully against the wood, and slicing away stripes.
I loved to help build the churches. As soon as this new style of building was developed, Gothic they call it, I fell in love with it. It was what I could do to make my troubles go away. I didn't think of all the pain when I worked with my hands. I didn't think about the hunger gnawing at my stomach or the pain in my mother's eyes. I could even get Isabell's sunken face out of my head while I worked.
"Ouch!" I jerked my hand away from the church.
"What happened?" Asked one of the guys close by.
"Nothing, I got a splinter."
The guys gave a chuckle and went back to work. I pulled the sliver of wood out of my finger and continued, ignoring the blood slowly oozing out.
A loud, sudden crash caused every one to jump and look around. Throwing out my hand and grabbing the side of the church to steady myself, I looked down to find the cause.
A man stood in the shadow of the church, staring up at me. "Sorry about that!" he called up. "I fell over these planks of wood as I was walking bye. That's mighty fine work there."
I looked at him inquisitively taking in his expensive clean clothes. His appearance was so different, almost foreign from what I was used to seeing that I couldn't help but stair. I was struck by how handsome this man was. Everyone I had ever seen had tan skin from working out in the sun all the time, and looked rather unhealthy. This man however was lean, but not thin, and was extremely white. His eyes were in shadows, blacking them out, but I could still feel them on me.
"Thank you sir." I said inclining my head.
"You work swiftly and with a sure feel to your hands… I wonder…" A smile spread across his face that didn't meet his eyes. His teeth were dazzlingly white.
"I've been looking for someone to build me something. A chest. But I haven't been able to find someone that intrigued me, or would fit my harsh requirements. You so far show much promise. How would you like to build it for me? I could pay you a great deal."
I looked at this man in the shadows with his cold smile. I wanted to say no, this man made me uneasy, was it because he was of a different class? No… but what then?
"You would be able to buy food, clothes, medicine, anything you could want."
Isabell's face flashed in my mind. I could buy her medicine, some nice blankets. And after that I would buy her a beautiful necklace to match my bracelet.
Think of Isabell I told my self.
"But of course, you don't have to. I could always find someone else." The man said, his smile faltering.
"I'll do it."
"Great!" He clapped his hands together. "What time do you get off?"
I looked up at the sky. The sun was starting to go down, and the men were packing up. "Actually I should be out now"
"Very well. Pack up and then follow me. I'll take you to my place."
"You want me to come now? I thought maybe tomorrow."
The man grinned at me then turned and walked into the darker ally.
Slightly taken aback by his prompt exit, I scrambled down from my perch, fumbling to gather my carving supplies as I went. Several of the men I worked with watched me with inquisitive expressions.
Finally reaching the bottom and checking to make sure I had everything, I swung around to face the alleyway into which the stranger had disappeared into. It was pitch black. I glanced at the men around me for one disconcerting moment, then plunged in. Immediately the smell of raw sewage assaulted my nose.
"Sir" I called out. "I thought we were going to your place?" The houses around were dilapidated and run down. The difference between the man and the buildings was staggering. This did not seem like the type of place a man with such clothes would be living.
"You thought that I would live in a big fancy house? Hardly." Jumping I turned slightly to my left to face the direction the voice was coming from. "I like nice clothes, and nice things, but I like my privacy more. By living in a place that doesn't look like I would live in it, I don't get bothered."
A black shadow moved in front of me, gliding farther into the darkness. "Come along boy, it's much farther away than this." His voice called back.
For several minutes I followed the black shadow through the dark. I stumbled often, even scraping my knee once, but the dark figure of the man never slowed to allow me to ketch up. It was getting even harder to see him through the dark, the sun had left the sky. His outline became harder and harder to make out until finally he disappeared into the darkness all together.
"Sir?" There was no answer as I fumbled forward, using the building next to me as a guide. "Sir?" Suddenly the wall ended under my hand. Catching myself before I fell sideways, I stepped back. The street had branched, turning into two alleyways.
I hesitated before turning in. This didn't seem right. Where had he gone? Right or left? Should I turn back and apologize next time I see this man? No. I needed the money, and every thing has to have an end, even this alleyway.
"Think of Isabell." I took a deep breath and turned into the right alleyway.
Pain sliced threw my shoulder. It was like someone was ripping the flesh from my body. My eyes watered from pain. I looked around to see nothing but the darkness.
Fear clenched at my throat. What just happened? My head became fuzzy, my vision began to dance and the pain in my shoulder was spreading like a hot fire. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. It felt like someone was taking my tools for carving away strips of wood and carving away strips of flesh. I fell to my knees and gasped for breath.
"Oh, don't worry." Came a mocking voice. "Soon the pain will be so bad that you will loose consciousness."
I looked up, trying to make out anything in the night. After a moment, a faint shadow separated itself from a deeper darkness. "What are you? The devil?" I choked out.
"Oh no. I wish though. I'll never meet him. You see, I can't die. And soon you won't be able to either."
My body convulsed. I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the ground. The pain had spread down my arm and across my chest constricting all my muscles. "W-Why?" I asked.
The shape bent down and stroked my hair lovingly, like a father would. Like my father used to do. "I have my reasons. Now, don't worry, it'll be over in a few days."
My body convulsed again. The pain was too much. The last thing I saw was his eyes. A brilliant, glowing red. My vision blacked over. I fell into the open arms of unconsciousness. ..
Someone was calling me. It sounded so familiar. It sounded so scared, so frightened. It called for help. I wanted to help but I was in hell. I could never escape. The fire continually burned, the air never coming to relieve the acing burn in my lungs.
The voice was coming closer. No it mustn't. Here only torture existed. Just pain. No one deserved this….
I couldn't move. My body was ridged, unwilling to move. Hunger scraped, tore and ripped threw me. My throat was so dry.
Someone pressed something wet to my cracked dry lips. It trickled over my tongue and down my throat. Easing the hunger and thirst that was demanding to be satisfied. It was sweet and salty. I had to have more. My teeth clenched over it, holding it in place as I franticly drank. I had to keep drinking, if I didn't I would die. The pain would come back. I would go back to Hell.
The thing with sweet liquid was pried from my lips. No! I had to have more. I could never have enough! I would kill who ever took it away from me! I would kill them!