1998
Clarissa Morgenstern stared out the window into the cold, moonless night. Her brother had left to go hunting with their father hours ago. She was supposed to be in bed, but three-year-old Clarissa hated to be left out. She had an adventurous streak the servants complained about. "Little Clarissa," they'd say. "She's always getting into trouble." Her daddy beat her for sticking her nose where it didn't belong sometimes, but he'd always had a soft spot for his baby girl. He didn't beat her as much as he beat Jonathon.
Clarissa hoped that her daddy and Jonathon came back soon. She'd had a nightmare and was terrified of the monsters. She thought she could see them in every shadow, creeping up behind her, closing in on her, preparing to devour her. She shivered and hugged her blanket tighter around her.
"Please come home soon," she whispered into the lonely night.
Jacob sat in the library, looking through an unabridged copy of A Divine Comedy. He especially liked this book because it was illustrated. He had trouble with the Latin, but he could usually understand the plot based on the pictures. The art was colorless, but beautiful nonetheless.
The grandfather clock in the corner chimed 10 P.M. Jacob sighed. If his father wasn't home by now, the man wouldn't bother. Jacob closed his book and placed it on the shelf, making sure that everything was alphabetized and organized. He knew that his father liked things to be neat and orderly. The old man had physically beaten that idea into his head for four years.
Jacob sometimes wondered where his father went when he wasn't at home. Whenever the young boy asked, the man would reply with a vague reference to his "business." If he kept asking, his father would backhand him.
Jacob turned off the lights in the library and was left standing alone in complete darkness. He was afraid of the dark, but his father had always told him that his fear was silly, child-like. "Only babies are afraid of the dark," his father would say. "And I raised a man." Punctuating his admonishment with a slap, Jacob's father would warn his boy to "stop whining and go back to sleep."
Jacob wanted to yell that he was a child, only four years old, and that it was perfectly natural for kids to be scared of the dark. But he wanted to make his father proud even more, so he held his tongue.
Humming one of Bach's concertos to keep his fear at bay, the young boy walked up the stairs to his room. He lay down on his white bed in his empty white room and pulled his white covers up over his head, trying to shield himself from the encroaching darkness.
The forest was pitch black, filled with the eerie calls of nocturnal creatures. Valentine smiled into the night, a cruel and predatory smile, as cold as the icicles hanging from the trees overhead. The man glanced at his son.
Jonathon was only six years old, but already he was following in his father's footsteps. With hair as white as the snow settling on the mountains around them and eyes as black as the inky night sky, the boy was a spitting image of Valentine.
"Father," Jonathon said quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever prey they were stalking. "Are we ever going to kill anything? What's the point of hunting if we're only going to wander around the forest for hours on end?"
Valentine slapped his son across the face. "Stupid boy," he whispered menacingly, although he was secretly glad his son was so clever. "I do not appreciate your insubordination." The boy did not apologize or lower his eyes in submission like the other children. Rather, he stood his ground and matched his father's gaze evenly.
"I am not killing anything, Jonathon," said Valentine in a cold, clear voice, bringing Jonathon further into the forest until the trees started to thin. He motioned towards the clearing ahead of them where a lone woman in strange garb lay sleeping. "You are."
Clarissa had dozed off sometime during her vigil. Hours had passed since she stood watch at the window, waiting for her father and brother to come home.
A hand clamping down on her shoulder woke her with a start. She opened her mouth to scream, but then Jonathon's voice was calming her down, telling her that the monsters were just in her head. She smiled at her brother, glad that he was safe after the hunt.
"How was it?" she asked him. Clarissa was never allowed to go on hunts, and while she hated being left out, she didn't like killing things.
Jonathon smiled wide, showing his missing front tooth. "It was perfect," he told his sister.
"I was scared that you wouldn't come back. I don't like being alone," the little girl said in a scared voice.
"Don't worry, little Clarissa," Jonathon reassured her. "I'll always come back for you."
Alright guys. Let me know what you thought! Was it great? Was it horrendous? Did it make you lose faith in humanity or the future of the English language? Tell me. Also, I'm not sure if I should continue this story. I've had this idea nagging me for a while now, but I've never done a fanfiction. Your reviews/reads are greatly appreciated!
~ Sarcastic Casper
P.S. A note about "Jacob": I know his name is sort of Jonathon Christopher in the book, but having two characters with the same name doesn't really work with my storyline. I hope it doesn't offend you too much :)