'Cold'
By: GaaraFox
September 24th, 2011
In the face of beauty's time
I've seen the face of what was mine
When once he sang a lullaby
Now he sings a solemn goodnight
Chapter I: Curse
Sakura Haruno was born on March 28th, 1700 and died on March 28th, 1718.
Her father, Valentine Haruno, and her mother, Helen Haruno, had finally given birth to a green-eyed, pink haired baby girl on a bright full moon night. Their efforts and fears were finally gone, finally washed away, as the infant cried and life filled her lungs. The night and the surrounding forest, normally so dark, was lit by the moon's reflective light. The wind whispered words of comfort, and the trees swayed gently, passing them on. A new life had begun; a comfortable life, in which she was Valentine and Helen's only spawn. In that, she was something remarkable, something special, something so favorably cherished, and yet it did not spoil her.
Valentine had been born into old money, and lived without worry of not being able to afford to pay the maids and the butlers that worked hard to keep the Haruno family's new manor spotless, and without duress. He worked in the village of Rowland as the Pastor, preaching every Sunday and offering words of wisdom whenever possible. Though this was not his only occupation, Valentine – often informally addressed a Val – worked as Rowland's lead witch hunter.
Little Sakura, with her large, bright green eyes, had no earthly idea – or worry in the world – that she had been born in the midst of witch hunting; the very peak of it, in fact. But still she grew, and as years slipped by she listened to her father speak every Sunday, and felt confident and quite comfortable in the life she lived. At first, Val would never speak of his witch hunting in front of his daughter, but even so, Sakura would sneak out of her room and listen as he spoke to her mother.
"There's a large group out by Charles Way, living together in a small cabin in the middle of the forest. We're going out tomorrow, plan on burning all of them." He sipped his hot tea.
"Are you sure you should? So soon? With so many of them?" Her mother's voice was heavy.
"You don't have to worry dear . . . I'm taking everyone with me. We're heading out early in the morning, before dawn. They're not as confident in the day light as they are in the dark . . ." He added the last part more to himself than to his wife.
Helen sighed, "Please be careful." Her voice carried a hidden message, telling her husband that she didn't exactly approve of what he was doing, but knew she had no choice but to stand on the side and watch. Val ignored it.
As Sakura grew into adolescence, she became more aware of the world around her. She wanted to know more, wanted to see more. She took in everything the school teacher was allowed to say and teach, and buried herself deep into the pages of every book she could get her hands on. Books were items that were becoming more and more common, but with the money her family possessed, Sakura not only had the most common books at her disposal, but also, the most rare, and they were all easily accessible from her father's private library. There were even times that Sakura snuck into her father's private library, and read books on witches.
She read the stories, tales and many facts of how witches created pacts with the Devil in order to perform magic. She even read (and as she did so, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end) about how witches were capable of summoning demons and cursing humans with dark magic. Magic so wicked and evil, it could only be obtained with a human sacrifice to the Devil. Sakura had slammed the book shut, quickly placed it back on the shelf, and didn't return to her father's library for nearly a month when she finally stopped looking over her shoulder at every sound she heard.
The other young teenagers in the school house didn't understand the young girl and her obsession with learning. Regardless of her family's wealth (though it didn't matter, they were all mostly from similar riches), her classmates often found time to throw a piece a chalk at the back of her head, or snatch up a book she was reading when the teacher wasn't looking. This continued into their later years, up until most of the boys started to see Sakura in a new light. When once they saw a large forehead, they now saw brilliant pink hair that was just the right shade to catch the sun's rays (as quoted from William Shensworth), or how her eyes reflected the evening stars and caught every glimmer (quoted from another Romeo, James Wilson), but she paid them no attention. Their attempts were futile, and every conversation she tried to strike with a young man from her school house would turn into a disaster as they ignored every word she said, as if they cared of nothing else but her beauty.
At the young age of 17, Sakura's mother, Helen, became worried that Sakura hadn't agreed to marry any of the many fine young men that had all received plenty of blessings from both her mother and father.
"I want to be with someone who understands what I'm saying! I don't want to marry a man who wants me to be quiet all the time! I refuse to be silenced!" Sakura stomped her foot furiously.
Her mother, slowly aging with care and delicacy said softly, "Sweety, it is not fit for a woman to speak amongst men."
"Then I won't ever marry!" Sakura retaliated, her anger burning inside her. And independency growing and waiting to burst free.
"Don't be silly," Helen continued in her soft, low tone, "You will find a man who will take care of you, and you will marry."
The young girl, bursting with energy and life, pursed her lips and stomped through the manor and up the staircase to her bedroom. She fell onto her four post bed and stared straight up at the canopy hanging above her. As her anger subsided, thoughts of her future began to swirl and dance in her mind. Of course she wanted to get married! She wanted to marry a man that would love her, and love every word she said. She wanted many children and wanted to teach all of them of everything she had ever learned. Then she saw herself growing older, and watching her children grow, and watching them have children as well. She saw nights by the fire, reading stories from books and drinking hot tea. Then finally, she saw herself growing old with her husband, living each day fully, until the final day came and they passed away together, to spend an eternity in each other's arms.
She felt her heart skip in her chest. Those visions seemed so close, yet so far away. She wondered for a moment if a man like that even existed. Then she wondered – as her eye lids grew heavy with sleep – how long she would have to wait before her world changed. The young girl didn't realize it at the time, but the answer would later be clear – not long, not long at all.
It was March 21st, 1718, seven days before young Sakura turned eighteen. She awoke before dawn had approached, and found her room filled with a soft darkness that was slowly being swept away by the rising sun. The young girl pulled herself out of her bed, and made her way downstairs to the kitchen, and wondered idly for a moment why she had woken up so early. Then she remembered what had awoke her from her sleep – it was her father, walking briskly around the manor as he gathered his usual witch hunting items. By this time, Val had spoken of witch hunting openly with Sakura, and even promised to take her to a burning when she was old enough, something Sakura had forgotten about long ago.
Witch hunting always consisted of large groups of men, and it was very unusual for a woman to attend. This was not only because it was not a woman's place to be a part of such things, but also because women were much more vulnerable than men. It was the man's duty to do all things that required labor outside the home, while the woman took care of most of the duties inside the home. But Val was different from the other men, and was the one thing that kept Sakura hoping that she would find a man like him. Her father, Valentine, was different because he listened to his wife, and in the times that he didn't, it wasn't because he thought himself to be superior, it was just because he was stubborn. He shared his day with her, told her everything that happened at the Church and his witch hunting's, and then listened to her intently as she spoke of her day, valuing every one of her words.
Though it wasn't just Val's kindness that separated him from the other men in the village of Rowland, it was also the basis for which caused him to invite Sakura, his young daughter and only child, to attend a witch hunting: the fact that there was a constant war of good and evil all around them, and that he felt everyone should see it. Most importantly, he felt his daughter should see it, so she wouldn't ever be considered ignorant, and then, she could rightly speak her own amongst men.
As if suddenly remembering his old promise, Val stopped his actions in the kitchen and said, "There's a witch nearby here, just outside Rowland forest. Seeing as you will be 18 soon, I think it's time you see what this village, and many other villages, fight in order to protect our families. You don't have to, but if you want to, you can come with me."
Sakura stared wide eyed at him and jumped up saying, "I'll go change!" She then ran to her room, changed out of her nightgown and into one of her casual dresses, and ran back downstairs just in time to meet her father at the front door. Eagerly, she slipped into her boots, and together they made their way across the manor grounds, all the way into the dark, awaiting forest.
They walked in silence for a few minutes before her father spoke, "There's a small town nearby, witch-infested if you ask me, that's trying to bring an end to witch hunting. They haven't got much support . . . I'm not worried." His voice trailed off, as if his mind hadn't finished his last thought.
"End witch hunting?" Sakura asked curiously, trying to encourage her father to say more. She loved it when he spoke to her as if she was on his level. As if she was equal.
"Yes," Val muttered, "But we must keep the tradition going . . . do you understand why that is important, Sakura?"
She thought for a moment, recalling all of her father's preaching and how he constantly urged the church to report any unusual behavior that could be associated with magic, "Because witches encourage the Devil to roam freely."
"That's right," He smiled. "We can't have witches running around, dancing with the Devil. They need to know that they are not wanted, that they will burn if they continue to practice their dark magic." Her father looked ahead of him, as if he hadn't actually been seeing where he was going from the very beginning. "The clearing is just ahead, stay close to me Sakura. We've been after this one for quite some time . . . she's an older witch, no telling how old, and could be potentially dangerous. Don't say anything to entice her, do you hear me?" He turned to look at her in the eye.
Sakura caught the severity in his tone and nodded, "Yes, Papa."
When they arrived at the clearing – it seemed to be settled in the bowels of the dark forest – there was a large wooden pole at the very center, which was surrounded by tall branches and many pieces of chopped fire wood. There were many men in the clearing, and Sakura stood at the very edge of the clearing so as not be too intrusive or noticeable. She might have sought equality, but witch burning was not a profession she was keen on picking up. Though the clearing was crowded, there was one figure that stood out the most, and that was the old woman tied to the middle of the wooden post, about two feet off the ground. Her eyes stared at one spot, a wicked smile etched on her face that made the hairs on the back of Sakura's neck stand on end. A piece of cloth had been tied around her mouth, so as to keep her from speaking, but was now digging against her tongue and the corners of her lips. She couldn't utter proper words, but her lips were still moving, as if they would never cease.
Sakura's heart pounded in her chest, and as she tried to look somewhere else, she couldn't. The witch was beyond hideous. She recalled reading a book that stated that witches looked like everyone else, and could even be one of the most beautiful women in the village, but some were so consumed with evil and dark magic, that their outward appearance accurately represented their true nature.
The witch hanging from the post looked very old, too old to be alive, it seemed. There were barely any hairs left on her scabbed head, and what was left, was snow white and almost translucent. Her eyebrows were thin, barely there, and every inch of skin Sakura could see was wrinkled and aged, as if she had been taking a bath for far too long. Her nose was pointed and crooked, as if it had been broken one too many times, and her lips were shriveled and peeling.
Though Sakura found the sight horrific, her eyes still wouldn't move. She took a few steps back, closer to the edge of the clearing, and hid herself behind a tree, but still kept her eyes on the old witch. As if smelling her fear, the witch's head snapped in Sakura's direction. She gave a small gasp and began to shake with fear, spellbound by the intense gaze of the old witch. Their eyes were connected, and still Sakura couldn't pull away. She could hear her heart pounding against her chest, and was trying desperately to breathe. The old witch's eyes were dark, full of an intense hate, full of evil so profound it almost knocked Sakura off her feet. But instead of a deep frown to accompany such dark eyes, the witch continued to smile. In fact, her smile deepened, and revealed an almost toothless grin (seeing as there were only a few teeth left in her rotting mouth).
The old witch's shoulders shook, as if she were laughing, and her lips continued to move with such speed Sakura became frightened at the idea that she might be cursing her! Finally, the old witch pulled her gaze away, releasing Sakura, and continued her evil stare at the same spot on the ground.
The moment she was free, Sakura gasped for air as if she hadn't been breathing properly before. She hid herself fully behind the tree, and tried her best to steady her heart as it beat quickly in her chest. Hadn't Sakura read all of those books on witches, she might not have reacted the same way, but for such a young age, Sakura had a vast amount of knowledge on witches, which was – it seemed to be now – a curse.
The young girl settled herself at the base of the tree and continued to face the vast forest. The sun had almost fully taken over the edge of the lightening sky, and was casting a pink, purple and orange haze across it. She listened as the men moved around the clearing, preparing for when they would light the fire. Minutes turned into an hour, and Sakura eventually felt fully rested and recuperated. She felt silly for having reacted the way she did, the witch couldn't hurt her! She wasn't the one tied to a wooden post! With a new found bravery, Sakura stood up and walked around the tree, and leaned against it.
There seemed to be about fifteen men in the clearing, including her father, all surrounding the wooden post and the giant pile of wood at the base of it. Valentine stood between Sakura and the witch, holding an open Bible in one hand as the other was raised high into the air. The witch hissed as her father began speaking in tongues, his gaze extended to the bright sky above them, light pouring in from the side.
One man held a torch, already lit with a burning flame, and moved to the base of the post. He lowered the flame, spreading it out amongst all of the dried wood until every inch was covered in fire. The old witches gaze darkened, but her smile was unfading, and her lips continued to tremble with words unheard. As the fire first reached her feet, she shook with laughter, though that could not be heard either. But then, the piece of cloth that was etched into her mouth sprang free, as if there had been a blade on her tongue.
The old witches' laughter could now be heard across the clearing, and deep into the forest. It was high pitched and full of a darkness Sakura could not describe with words. She felt her heart beating quickly again, and pressed her back firmly against the tree, feeling the bark dig into her back. Her palms were sweaty, but still she placed them against the tree, as if holding it in place. Her eyes were fixed on the old witch.
Val seemed to be unmoved by the witches' voice and retaliated by speaking louder and opening his arms wider, ignoring every word the witch spat.
Her voice was dark, and every word reached her eyes, "Fooled by Him you have not seen, what powers that lurk in the darkest corners, you shall see! You shall see!" The witches' shoulders shook with laughter as she continued to speak.
The fire licked its way up the witch and she gave out a shrill squeal as if enjoying the burning. A few of the men looked around at each other and stepped back, feeling their strength slowly slip away.
"I wanted to be caught, I wanted to be caught! One death Master, one death!"
Val continued, ignoring every word that came from the witches' rotting mouth. That is, until she said something that made everyone turn toward Sakura.
The witch had stopped her flow of words and was quiet for a moment before she said, "Father, what a beautiful daughter you have."
Val's speech was hindered for a moment, but he ignored the witch and spoke louder, extending his arms fully into the air. The witch seemed unable to speak as her head hung loosely and rolled around, from side to side, her eyes unmoving. She then snapped her head up and spoke, in a voice Sakura would have bet was the Devil himself, and said, "For all that has been done, for all who have been done, here it will be done, and never shall it be forgotten!" The witch shook and vomit spilled from her mouth, covering her front side. She turned her eyes to Sakura, and spoke her final words as the fire overtook her whole form, "Walk among us, dear child, and let your thirst be known! On the night of the girl's 18th birthday, forever she will burn!" The old witches' head then rolled to the side, fire consuming every inch of her, but still her mouth was formed into a smile and her eyes dark as hell.
Sakura hadn't even known she could run so fast in her life, but the moment the witch had died, Sakura forced herself to retreat back to her home. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was unaware of the growing pain in her side. She didn't stop running until she reached the manor, and was safely inside. Helen looked around the corner from the kitchen to find Sakura running up the staircase as fast as her legs could carry her. Her mother followed, calling after her, but Sakura couldn't hear anything but the witches' last words ringing in her head. Sakura couldn't see anything but the witches' rotting mouth and her ugly smile. The young girl threw open her bedroom door, slammed it shut behind her, threw her boots into a corner, and flung herself under the sheets of her bed.
Helen was only a few seconds behind her, and opened the door to find a large, shaking lump under the bed sheets. She approached her daughter's bed, sat at the edge, and held the girl's shaking figure as she cried herself to sleep.
Sakura awoke in the late evening, with the sun slowly beginning to set. The morning's events stirring in her mind and though she was relieved it was over and the witch was dead, she couldn't shake the old witches' words. They echoed in her thoughts, playing over and over again. Having played it over for the 100th time, Sakura was beginning to make herself uneasy. She sat up in her bed, and sighed into the silence. She then jumped at the sound of a woman screaming. The scream carried through the woods, all the way to the Haruno manor, and clawed its way into the deepest corners of Sakura's mind.
She sprung out of bed and ran down the staircase to find the main lobby filled with some residents from the village. There was a man, a woman, and three children, all crying hysterically and trying desperately to describe what they had encountered. Valentine stood with the man off to the side, listening intently as he described what he had witnessed, while Helen stood with the woman and children, doing her best to comfort them.
"The Devil is among us! In the town! He took the life of my baby!" The woman sobbed into Helen's shoulder as she patted her back, doing all that she could to soothe her, while also trying to stay calm herself.
"I saw him too," said one of the children as he shook with fear. His eyes were wide and unmoving, as if the few moments of horror that had appeared before his youthful eyes would never go away . . . would never end.
"Bright red eyes! Eyes of the Devil!" The oldest of the children shouted, a young girl, only a few years younger than Sakura.
Sakura watched the scene before her, shaking with new found fear. She watched her father and the man talk silently to one another, doing the best she could to listen to what they were saying. She caught the words "witches' curse" and "summoned a demon". That was all young Sakura needed to hear to know that her fears had been confirmed. The witch they burned this morning used herself as a sacrifice in order to curse the town, but curse it with what?
Sakura frantically searched her thoughts . . . what curses did witches' place on people? On towns? She had read of plagues and disease that killed families, even heard entire fields of livestock dying instantly, but demons she did not know of. Yes, she had read once that through one human sacrifice a very powerful and dark witch could summon a demon to curse anyone she so chose, but that was all Sakura knew of. She did not know of what powers the demon possessed, or even what it looked like. Many disturbing images came to mind and she quickly shook those from her thoughts.
Val finally spoke, interrupting all of Sakura's thoughts, "I'm going to the town. The only way to rid our families of this abomination is to face it directly." He grabbed his usual items – a crucifix, his Bible, and some holy water – and made his way to the door. "Helen, until our town is rid of this demon, I will be staying at the church." Sakura's mother nodded her head solemnly. The family in the lobby tried their best to convince Val to stay but he simply said, "You may stay here. Helen, ask the maids to fix some tea and warm the beds in our guest rooms. Comfort them, show them love, it is all we can do for now." Then with those last words, he walked out the door.
Moments later, Sakura could hear the pounding of hooves outside. They grew fainter and fainter with each passing second, until finally, they were gone.
Days passed, and as each day approached and each day ended, Sakura could feel her stomach tighten and coil. Her birthday was drifting closer, and closer, and all she wanted was for all of the evil to just go away. She wanted everything to be normal. For there to be no witches, no Devil, no destruction or pain or tears . . . the tears were plentiful, it seemed the Haruno manor was full of tears. Each day brought new guests into the Haruno manor, and all of the maids and butlers comforted them as they were shown to their new bedrooms. It seemed no one in the town wanted to be alone, and Sakura couldn't blame them. She enjoyed the manor being full, and though it echoed with sobs and moans, it signified life.
Every so often there would be a messenger at the door. Helen would talk quickly to the messenger, bearing news that Val was okay, though he was growing restless. The first night he had left the manor he had rallied the witch hunters and gathered them in the church. Their worries had been confirmed as Val explained that the old witch did in fact use herself as a sacrifice to the Devil, in order to summon a demon on their small village. Val ordered the witch hunters to inform all of the men in Rowland, and to be prepared to strike against the demon. He ordered them to gather axes, knives and guns, ropes, bats and torches. He didn't know how to kill the demon, or how to catch it, but he encouraged them to use whatever they could to fight it, and in the mean time, pray.
Helen listened intently as the messenger described the types of horrors that the town was experiencing: sightings of bright red eyes that moved silently through the town, only at night, and a dark shape drifting from behind the trees, almost as if the demon didn't walk, and there were never any footsteps or sounds of breathing, just the overwhelming fear that would fall over someone as they held their breath, waiting for the demon to pass by.
One day when the messenger visited, Sakura listened as he described to Helen the horrors of the deaths that were occurring all across Rowland, "We hear a scream and we follow it – so far that's the on'y way we know the demon is nearby – but every time we arrive, it's too late. We find the body, pale white and whole, and at first wondered how the demon was killing its victims. Then, we saw it–" The messenger paused dramatically and Helen drew closer to him as his voice dropped lower, and Sakura inched her way closer. "–blood, two small trails of drying blood on the side of the neck, coming from two small holes." As the messenger said this, he dragged his fingers down the side of his neck.
Helen was frozen, her face revealing a mix between disgust and fear, "You mean . . ."
The messenger nodded, "Drained of blood, all of 'em."
Sakura could hardly believe the horror that had overtaken her peaceful town, and the wonderful people in it. But as she listened to the frightened guests in her home, it all became much too real. The stories they told – as their eyes stared straight ahead, reliving the horrific moments – matched every bit of information she learned from the messenger as she eavesdropped on her mother's conversations.
"H-He was just lying there, so still!" A young girl choked on her cries as tears poured from her eyes, "I-I saw blood, blood everywhere! I-It was coming from his neck!"
Some stories were more gruesome than others. The villagers in the manor described some deaths as a blood bath, where heads had been ripped off and blood soaked the wooden floors of their homes, while others described them as quiet, and unsuspecting.
An older man, around his 60's, recounted his horrible night, "We were all sitting around the fire in the main room, that is also where we had been sleeping, and I had the gun by my side at all times, but . . ." He stopped, his eyes unmoving just like the rest as the events played over and over again in his mind, "But it didn't matter. At first you feel an overwhelming sense of fear, as if something dark is nearby. As if every nightmare you ever had took form and manifested itself in the room. Then, the fire suddenly burned out, and we were cast into darkness. My youngest grandson began to sob quietly and I told him to stay quiet, that he had to be brave, and then . . ." A lone tear fell from one of his eyes, "Then there was an overwhelming silence. A silence so dark it presses against your ears, and I felt like a small child again, afraid of the dark. I couldn't move, I was so scared . . . I couldn't even pick up my gun!"
He sobbed and everyone around him patted his shoulders and hugged him. Sakura was the only one able to speak, "You don't have to continue."
The old man shook his head and continued his story, and as Sakura listened, she could only guess that the old man felt that conquering his fear of retelling such a terrible event might be his only way of bringing back his dead grandson. Despite all doubt, he continued, and revealed how he'd seen the floating, blood red eyes, and how it was too dark for him to see the owner of those eyes, and that all he could see was a dark mass, and felt the most horrible evil pulsing from it.
Every night Sakura went to sleep in her room, imagining the shapeless demon prowling the small village of Rowland, wondering if the nightmare would ever end. The village was only a few miles away from where she slept, and as she imagined the demon lurking in the darkness, tried to push away the fact that it really wasn't at all, that far away.
Seven days had passed. Seven horrifically terrifying days had gone by since the burning of the old witch, and Sakura awoke in the morning, now 18 years old, to find her mother entering her room with a tray of food. Helen smiled sweetly at her, and placed the tray in front of her. She looked tired, as if she hadn't slept in days, but still the smile was genuine and somehow reached her eyes.
"Happy 18th birthday, my sweet girl," Helen reached over and hugged her daughter as tight as she could, as if she were hoping she could pull her back into her womb and start from the very beginning, in a town void of evil. But this, she could not do, and reluctantly pulled away to gaze into her daughter's bright green eyes, "I love you," she said, and finally kissed her forehead and left the room.
Sakura stared down at the tray of food, and the food stared back. In fact, it smiled back. Eggs for eyes, a slice of bacon formed into a smile, and a strawberry for a nose, and even the pancake had a genuine smile. She sighed and pushed the tray to the side, not feeling very hungry or cheerful, and got out of her bed to cross her room to one of the windows in it. She stared out across the front lawn of the manor, and watched as a few young children kicked a small ball to one another. The scene would have appeared normal, if one hadn't known what fervor the children once played with. Now it appeared as if they had to play, and if they didn't, the nightmares from the night before would creep up on them and snatch them of what little life they had left. So they played, and as Sakura watched, she allowed herself to wonder – if only momentarily – if she'd ever see them play with such fervor again.
The sun crept over the forest, steadily beginning to rise higher over the sky, and she felt its warmth on her skin. She cast her eyes at the sun, still too low to be uncomfortable to stare at, and recalled the burning flames from the forest that had occurred only a week ago.
'Had it really been only a week ago?' Sakura thought to herself, feeling as if the days had gone by like years. Yet even so, she wished her birthday would last just as long . . . or hopefully, even longer.
As the burning of the witch fully crossed her thoughts she recalled the witch's words, 'Walk among us, dear child, and let your thirst be known! On the night of the girl's 18th birthday, forever she will burn!' It was quite obvious now that the witch had used herself as a sacrifice to the Devil in order to summon some sort of demon upon her small town. The witch, angry with what has become of the other witches, had patiently been waiting for the right moment to be found, and burned. The thought of the old witch – so old she appeared to already be dead – pacing in her cabin, waiting, watching, whispering and dancing with the Devil, made Sakura's stomach turn. Even worse, she knew when Sakura's birthday was, and she knew to be caught a week before it, and even more, knew that she was going to be at the burning.
Sakura had recounted these events multiple times in the days that passed, trying to ignore the coming day, the coming night, when something horrible would take place. Against her better judgment, she went on with the day. She walked from room to room in the manor, and helped her mother and the maids take care of the sad, the lonely, the scared and the angry. She told the few happy stories she knew, read from books that held them too, and mustered up all the life that she had left, every time she forced a smile. And every time she became distracted, she would look out a nearby window, and watch as the sun grew higher, and soon, began to sink lower.