Campfire Stories
I own nothing :(
The fire burned brightly as the adventurers gathered around it. Agogo Forest was alive with the sounds of nighttime animals.
Beat, after finishing his meal of dried meat and cookies, rested his head against Polka's side.
"I'm bored." he declared to the silence of his team mates.
"Yeah, me too." agreed March.
"Oh, I know! Let's tell stories!" shouted Salsa.
This seemed to get the group interested.
"Okay, what's your story then Salsa?" asked Beat. Salsa exchanged glances with her twin, who nodded. Salsa gave the group a large, cocky smile.
"My story," she said," Is how I got my pirate hat."
"Yeah...I did wonder about that. I thought Agogo Forest was landlocked." said Allegretto, sitting up in anticipation for the tale to come.
March nodded. "It is today, but hundreds of years ago the sea used to be right at our doorstep. Our Mother told us all about the history of Agogo Forest."
"She told us a story about a fearsome pirate named Bluegrass who terrorized the pathways between Agogo Forest and the places of the world. He used to use our forest as a hideout and a treasure drop. Supposedly, there was a secret cave he stashed his loot in somewhere in the Forest." continued Salsa.
"It was also where the current guardian of the time killed him." added March.
"Heh, no mercy there, eh?" commented Retto. The twins decidedly ignored him and continued with their story.
"It was when we were younger, about six or seven, when we accidentally stumbled upon Bluegrass's hideout."
"Don't you mean fall in it?" corrected Salsa, making March go red.
"Well...yes...I suppose I did..."
"I had to go down and get her, poor thing. Neither of us could get out that way, so we had to find a different exit. That's when we found him."
"Found who?" asked Viola
"Captain Bluegrass of course!"
"Oh, she means his coffin." dismissed Jazz, waving away the comment as if it was pure fantasy.
"Well, I must admit, he did have quite a nasty hack every now and again," said March, "He didn't seem to mind it, however, being dead and all."
"Wait...I think I might be a bit confused here." said Falsetto, "He was coughing while he was dead?"
"No silly!" exclaimed Salsa
"Oh, good because that would be just plain-"
"He was coughing while he was undead. There's a difference you know. And he sure wasn't happy to see us!"
"As I recall, he only saw us when you tried to steal his gold." chided March
"Yeah, yeah."
"Then you took his sword."
"It was old!"
"And finally his hat."
"My shining moment, if I do say so myself."
This was met with an awkward kind of silence.
"Excuse me;" started Frederic, breaking the ice, "are you telling us that you stole from an undead, blood thirsty pirate at the age of six years old?"
The twins exchanged glances and shrugged. "Yes." said March. "That seems about right."
"Except I also stole his femur." added Salsa.
"What's a femur?" asked Beat
"It's a bone in your leg. Why would you steal his femur?" asked Viola, slightly horrified.
Salsa shrugged. "I was on a good streak so, I thought, why stop now?"
"Which turned out to be a good thing because he couldn't run after us in the end." added March with a small smile.
"So, all in all, it was a good day." said Salsa, leaning back and placing her hands behind her head. "Ten thousand in our pocket, an old glowing sword, a new hat, and a femur that we hung up in the front yard as a warning."
"I'm sorry, did you say glowing sword?" asked Polka
"Yeah, it was all weird and glowyi and blue. It's in a locked trunk back in our hut. We'll show you it when we get back there."
There was a collective, amazed silence, in which a number of people were wondering how it was that you stole a femur from a person, even an undead one, without them making you a human- kabob.
"Ha," piped up Salsa once again, "Try to top that."
"Oh I intend to." said Viola cheekily, rising from her current relaxed position and into the limelight.
"Oh? How now?" asked March
"I'm going to tell you a story from when I used to live in my village: The village of Chord."
"Chord? I'm sorry I've never heard of it." said Polka.
"You wouldn't, it was a very small village."
"Was?"
"Can I continue please?"
"Sorry." apologized Polka. This was the first time she had heard Viola mention her origins and she was curious for more information. Apparently everyone else was in much the same frame of mind as she was, for even Jazz had sat up from his unconcerned definitely-not-listening position.
"Anyways, it was a small village made up of, you guessed it, goat farmers. We used to move with the herds, going wherever the grass was tall and sweet." narrated Viola. "It was late august, as I recall. I had just delivered my first goat, a baby boy named Alto. He and Arco are still great friends." Upon hearing his name the little red unnamed animal leapt to her side.
"We were down around the base of Mt. Rock, which was a dangerous area because of the wolf problems. It was not long before goats from out herd started disappearing. We put out traps, but for some reason they never sprung. Fearing we were going to lose our herd, we moved to a different area, still at the base of the mountain, but far enough away that wolves should not have been an issue. That night, more goats went gone missing."
"But I thought you said the wolves should not have been a problem." stated Falsetto.
"Well, it seemed we had attracted the attention of a much worse enemy. It just so happened that I met a pack of then on a chilly, moonless night. Me, Arco, and Alto were gathering some herbs for dinner when I heard the inhuman howling. Gathering Alto and Arco, I had decided that maybe being out that late wasn't such a great idea. If it was a pack of wolves it would have been no problem for me and my trusty bow. As luck would have it, however, they were Snatchers."
"Snatcher?" asked Retto. "Sounds like something made up to scare kids."
Viola nodded. "As a matter of fact, it was. I thought they were just a myth, a legend to tell to naughty kids to keep them out of trouble. The reasoning had only just caught up with me when I was surrounded."
"They were like wolves that walked on their hind legs except bigger, about six or seven feet tall. They had fur that blended with the darkness and great big blazing red eyes that burned into my vision and made me see spots when I looked away. What stuck out most though was their claws; long and thin, like a knife used to gut goats, and made out of a glossy cream colored bone."
"What did you do?" asked Polka excitedly.
"I ran." was the anticlimactic response. "Not that I got very far. They fell me in a open field about thirty yards away with a swift hit to the back of the knees. The biggest one, the leader I presume, placed his giant paw on my chest to pin me, his claws extending around me like a cage. I was trapped, and when I looked into that animal's eyes I saw no mercy. I thought I was going to die."
"Bu-but your still alive!" cried Beat. He looked shaken, as if just by pointing out that fact Viola would disappear before his very eyes. Viola laughed.
"Yeah I am. Do you wanna know how?"
"Isn't that the point of this story?" muttered Retto, who was swiftly hushed by everyone in the crowd.
"How?" asked Beat.
Viola leaned back against her pack and gazed up at the star filled sky. "It was one of the most spectacular things I had ever seen. The flowers around me blossomed into glowing orbs. The light spread across the field as if, in some way, they were challenging the starless sky above it. The creatures, sensitive to the sudden bright light, fled, leaving to live on with my tale."
Although she didn't notice it, Polka and Frederic shared a secret, knowing smile. They dropped it when Viola let out a sudden laugh. "Alto's horns still glow like it. He ate some of it, you see."
"Cool! Can I have some?" asked Beat "I wanna glow!"
"Don't even think about it Beat" said Retto. Beat groaned, but then brightened up.
"Retto, we should tell a story next!"
"What? Are you nutty? We don't have anything worth telling!"
"What about that time in Mrs. Ramba's house?"
Retto seemed to consider it, and then shook his head in defeat. "Fine," he said "It's not good, but it's not bad either, so we'll give it a shot."
"Ok, so there used to be this old lady who lived in Ritardondo called Mrs. Ramba." stated Retto
"She was mean! And ugly too!" exclaimed Beat, who mocked the old woman by pulling a face and hobbling around. This gathered some laughs from the younger kids and even a few chuckles from Frederic.
"Yeah, so anyways Beat, somehow or another, accidentally ended up in her house." Retto flashed Beat a look, whose expression changed from puzzled to enlightened.
"OH. Oh, yeah. I got really lost." he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Retto had to go in and find me."
"Have no idea how, or why, he decided to go into the attic." added Retto.
"I was lost!"
"So you went up?"
"BOYS!" shouted Polka "Can you please continue without the bickering?"
Retto and Beat, both looking rather sheepish, agreed. "Beat, you can go." offered Retto to his younger partner.
"Okay, we'll I was up in the attic for a while before Retto got up there, and I had started to notice that the attic smelled really funny. Not like funny ha-ha, but the weird kind of funny, you know? I told Retto about it and he agreed, so we decided to investigate."
"The whole place was like a burial ground for ancient and unneeded items." depicted Retto. "There were so many boxes and crates that Mrs. Ramba had to have had a fortune when she was younger."
"Yeah so we search the whole attic, but we ended up getting caught by Mr. Ramba.!" exclaimed Beat. "Only not really cuz he was dead."
"...WHAT?" shouted Jazz, "He was dead?"
"Yup, the sad truth of it." said Retto
"What did Mrs. Ramba decide to just stuff her dead husband away like everything else up there?" asked Viola.
"No, cuz that's when we found Mrs. Ramba too." added Beat "And boy was she not happy to see us."
"...Beat we found her dead husband, who she killed by the way."
"Yeah, but she didn't have to tell us that!"
"SO, she killed her husband and stuck him in the attic?" asked Polka, horrified. "I didn't even know that had happened and I went there every day."
"I'll get to that, just let me finish, okay?" soothed Retto. "Anyways, so she told us what she had done, and then she lunged at Beat with a knife! She threatened to kill us both because we knew too much."
"Only because she told us though, not because we asked." murmured Beat.
"So we jumped out a window"
"What, how far up?" asked Falsetto
"Oh, what would you say Beat? It was a big house. About twenty feet?"
"I don't know Retto; I was too busy jumping to count."
"And you didn't get hurt?"
"Nope," said Beat proudly, "not a scratch on us."
"Of course we sent some unnamed tips to the Watch and everything was settled on the quiet, which is why you never heard about it Polka." concluded Retto
"Wow." Retto smiled at her response, he had really seemed to impress her. He leaned back with the satisfactory grin of a story well told. "So is anybody else gonna go?" he asked. Falsetto raised a reluctant hand. Jazz looked surprised.
"You're going next?" he asked. Falsetto nodded her head. She took a deep breath as the spot light moved to her. For a while she gazed into the fire, the party around her getting impatient for her story. Finally she spoke.
"Hide and seek. All the neighborhood kids were playing it," a soft smile replaced her somber frown, "even Jazz. The best place to hide was the forest at the time, since it was filled with closely knit trees and low walls of brambles. So that's where I went. I just kept running, thinking that the seeker would find me if I didn't. It was winter, and the snow glistened on the trees like fairy dust as the sun hit it. It was beautiful." Her voice was low and wistful, as if remembering the tale from a dream. It had captured it audience, keeping them on the edge of their seats, if not in anticipation then to be able to hear her.
"I hadn't noticed how dark it had gotten; the forest had ensnared me in its magical serenity, a place untouched by man and created fresh from the hand of God, alive and new. I ignored the stinging in my hands and feet and the shortness of breath, I blamed it on all the running. Only when the sun started to fade from view did I realize that I should be on my way home. I turned around to leave but found that I did not know where I was. I was lost."
"I searched and searched for the path back, but my efforts were only rewarded with a aching exhaustion that I had never felt before or since. Sinking to my knees, I felt tired. My body, frozen and soaking wet, had given up. I wanted to rest. I wanted to get back home and out of the dark forest that I had once thought so beauteous."
The party was silent. There were questions that jumped to and fro in there heads, but unlike the other stories, in this one they did not have the heart to ask. They could only listen to Falsetto's voice ringing clear and soft in the clearing.
"Once the darkness of late night had descended it swallowed me and it was as if I had never existed. I was so scared, so cold, so alone, but the emotion died inside of me against to the urge to sleep. The darkness solidified around my vision, even darker than the night itself. I felt myself slipping." Her words echoed and rose with the smoke that leaked into the might sky.
"And then I saw him, through my twilight haze. The Dark Man. He wore a long black hooded cloak that hid his face from view. Skeletal hands gripped a tall scythe that shimmered pale blue in the moonlight. I felt the urge to move as he glided over to me; as if him being here was some kind of sign that it was time to get up, like an alarm. He used one skeletal hand to help me up and steady me against a tree. Then he talked to me in a voice I will never forget; booming, yet soft. Monotone, yet with the slightest hint of whatever emotion he was trying to say, as if he had put real effort into trying to get in there."
"I BEILEVE IT MAY BE TIME FOR YOU TO GO HOME NOW." He said.
I told him I did not know the way.
"IT'S OKAY, I KNOW THE WAY."
Then I asked him if he could take me.
"YES," he said, his voice getting a bit softer, maybe even a bit sad, now that I look back on it. "I AM GOOD AT SHOWING PEOPLE THE WAY HOME.ii"
"...and he took me home." finished Falsetto.
There was a long silence filled with the sound of many introspective conversations. Then, Jazz spoke.
"I was worried about you when that happened. We looked everywhere for you." he said in his deep, emotionless voice. "I had thought you were lost you forever."
Falsetto gave a small, outtake of breath. "Yeah, me too." The pregnant silence them gave birth to a rather awkward question. "So...who's going next?"
To almost everyone's complete surprise, Polka raised a sheepish hand.
"Do mind if I...lighten the mood? Its seems to have gotten a bit dark." She said, replacing her hand back at her side.
"I think we could use it Polka, go ahead." answered Frederic.
"Well, it's not some great adventure or anything, but I did break a man's nose once."
Judging from her companion's reaction, the tales of undead pirates, gruesome monsters, murdering old ladies, and brushes with death did not hold a candle to the surprise that Polka, Polka, had broken a man's nose before.
"It was an accident!" she added, but too late to stop Retto, Beat, Salsa, and Viola from howling in laughter. Even Jazz and Falsetto cracked a grin!
"Polka, how on Earth to you accidentally brake a man's nose?" asked Frederic. He held back the smile that was trying to force it way up, determined not to embarrass his friend any more than she had been.
"Well, I was in Ritardondo selling floral powder. I got kind of thirsty, so I decided to stop in at the local Inn and get a drink. Well, the door opened in and I may have been a bit angry at the time, so I push it a bit too hard..." Polka trialed off as the laughter came to an all time high. "I apologized though but ...well he may have been knocked out... After that I couldn't sell floral powder for weeks!"
Retto was whipping away tears. "That...is funny," he said between gasps of breath. "Wish I had been there.
"I wish I hadn't." snapped Polka, successfully silencing Retto. With the venom gone from her voice she turned a soft gaze back to the only two remaining members.
"Frederic, Jazz, you are the only two who haven't told a story yet." Jazz shrugged in response.
"Nothing kid- friendly." he said and left it at that.iii
Polka's gaze alighted on Frederic. "Anything?" she asked. Frederic sat up and cleared his throat.
"I do have a story...only it's not finished yet."
"Huh?" questioned Beat, "What do you mean?"
"I'm dying and having the greatest adventure of my life at the same time. I've met-or created- some amazing people with some amazing stories. This is my story, both here and there and the ending, the finale, will tell me down which path I take. Nothing I say or do will hold a candle to anything you have already said or already done. My story is unfinished and, thus, I take my leave of this turn." The party watched as the pianist leaned against a tree stump and slid his top hat so that it covered its face. "However," he added, "Next time you open a door, Polka, I would advise using less force."
Retto and Beat dissolved into laughter once again, causing Polka to hide her reddening face in her hands.
"Alright, alright," Jazz said, "It's getting late and we have a long way to go tomorrow. Time to hit the hay."
"Aw! Why Jazz?" whined Beat
"I just told you why!"
"I need a better reason than that."
"Because if you don't, the Snatchers will come and get you!" smiled Viola, who jumped at Beat. Beat cuddled up in his blanket as close to Retto as he dared to go. Viola laughed. "I knew there'd be a use for that story."
Jazz, obtaining a bucket of water from nowhere in particular, threw it on the flames, signaling that it was, indeed, time to go to sleep. Nine faces watched the thick gray smoke spiral upwards into the starry night sky.
"Hey Frederic?" asked out the tiny voice of March after a while of silence.
"Yes?"
"Do really think we're amazing?"
Frederic smiled a soft smile. "Yes I do."
"Good, because we think that you're amazing too."
A wonderful warm feeling spread in Frederic's stomach as he fell asleep; a feeling he hadn't felt since Emilia had died.
He was glad that his campfire story wasn't done yet.
FIN
Yeah! my first story on Fanfiction! WHOO! I hope I did well, I really don't type my stories a lot, so I was worried about the cyber grammar -.-
Review if you want to, because I would love to get some critical feedback.
i Yes it's not a word, but Salsa is nine years old. If that's not a reason to make up new words then I'm not sure what is.
ii Yes, that is Terry Pratchett's Death, for all you how got the reference ;)
iii Can you really imagine it would be, coming from one of the hottest guys ever? I bet he has some really good adult creepy ones though...