Nightfall Prologue:
Harris B.
Beginning:
"What is this rubbish," said 15-year-old Cressida Cloverfield as she dropped the three-century-old diary. Earlier this Sunday morning, she had been told by her overly strict mother to hang the damp clothes on the clothesline outside during this overly sunny weather. She paused. She had noticed Ivy her German Shepherd picking at a variation of sticks and rocks. Ivy was a heterochromatin dog with one blue eye and one hazel eye. Ivy also had many scars and bruise marks on her fur as she was regularly beaten up by her previous owners. Cressida had been lost in her thoughts and hadn't been paying attention to what Ivy had been doing. Once so, she muttered "oh no." Her mother would kill her if she found out the "putrid mutt" as she often addressed Ivy was digging up the yard. Her mother was a perfectionist and always wanted what was best for her daughter. She prized having the best yard in the whole neighbourhood. "Ivy, if you don't stop, I won't give you any extra treats today," said Cressida. Ivy whimpered. "Wait, hold on," said Cressida as she eyed the tainted greyish looking box sticking out of the fresh mound of dirt. "T-This is a time capsule!" She opened the box hastily. Most of the contents had been soiled and aged but one item, in particular, had been in a somewhat well-worn condition. It was a diary but didn't have a name on it. She knew something was wrong. "How come this hadn't rot after all these years," she thought to herself. And thus, after a few good minutes of reading, she dropped the book and said: "what is this rubbish?" And here we are now. "Cressy, did you do the chores hon'," her mother called. "Yes, mum," Cressida lied. "I know you didn't do it, just go play with your friends. Tsk, tsk, you disappoint me so much," said Cressida's mother. Although Cressida loved her mother, she really didn't care if she disappointed her mum. "God, she is just so annoying," said Cressida as she walked towards her best friend Sapphire's house. Cressida was somewhat of an introvert and was pretty anti-social. She didn't enjoy having a large group of friends so she preferred to be near only one person, that person happened to be Sapphire. A wealthy and mature girl in the same grade as Cressida. Cressida often envied her friend partly because of wealth but mainly because of her ability to talk with ease with other people. Cressida rang the doorbell. "Blimey Cressy, your mum let you off early today?" "Surprisingly, so much for the strict mother act," Cressida replied. Cressida paused and forgot why she was here. "Uh, so, why are you here Cress," said Sapphire. "Uh, oh yeah, I found this notebook today." Cressida waved the notebook in the air. "Uh, Cressy? You know I don't like reading, I prefer the latest fashion trends to be completely honest," said Sapphire. "Just listen up," said Cressida as she read the diary to Sapphire. After 10 good minutes of reading a three-century-old diary by someone way older than these two 15-year-olds, Sapphire spoke. "So, you want us to, uh, what again," asked Sapphire. "Ugh, you really disappoint me. Haven't you noticed we live near a forest," asked Cressida. "Of course! What're you getting at Cressy?" "That forest is called Hawthorn Hill, in a book that I've read before, it said Hawthorn Hill used to be Nightingale Forest. The location in this very diary is Nightingale Forest. We have to investigate this." "It could just be a children's story or just a just a mere coincidence," snapped Sapphire. But you have to trust me, take a leap of faith, just this once." "Fine," replied Sapphire, "but just this once." "Well, what are you waiting for," asked Cressida. And so the two girls went to go debunk a rumour. Just like the old priestess had.
Middle:
Cressida and Sapphire crept up to the front gate. It was rusty and was concealed with vines and moss. If Sapphire hadn't walked into the gate, the girls would never have found it. Sapphire saw a snake slither around the gate. "We really should leave now Cress, I reckon it's just a fictional story," said Sapphire. Cressida ignored her comment. Cressida knew this was much more than just a coincidence. "Don't be afraid to get dirty," said Cressida as she climbed with difficulty over the gross gate. Once they were on the other side, there somehow seemed to be an abiding mist around themselves. "We can find our way back after this," said Cressida sarcastically. The girls walked around a few trees only to find themselves lost. "Cressida, that's not a very pleasant sign, d'you reckon?" "Shut up, I'm concentrating," replied Cressida. Cressida stopped. "Sapph, you should see this, right now." "Coming," Sapphire replied with a mix of anger and joy. Cressida walked forwards towards a few mouldy logs when she saw something very, very strange on the worn path ahead of her. There were millions of tiny footprints coming out of a very large and lush green bush ahead, crossing the path and disappearing into the dead bushes on the other side. That was the only lush green bush there was in the entire forest. Everything else was dead or broken. "Sapphire, take a good look at this," said Cressida. "Sapphi-" Cressida saw it coming but couldn't react in time. Sapphire had pushed her in the bushes where Cressida had fallen off a cliff and Sapphire had run away after looking at the bottom of the cliff.
Cressida opened her eyes. She noticed that she was in a pure white room. "D-Did she just push me off a cliff?!" "You must be angry," a fairly masculine voice had called out. Cressida jumped. "Turn around now, do it very slowly." Cressida stopped. She didn't dare turn around, but her curiosity got the best of her. There, on a mahogany chair and table with a lacquered rose red vase sat a man with cropped brunette hair, a greasy cobalt coloured flannel, and a slightly wrinkled pair of black jeans. "Hello," said the man."It seems you've read the diary, the diary of one of your great, great grandmothers." There was a long silence after that. A sickeningly long silence. "Your friend decided to ditch you, by the way, get it, 'ditch' you," he said trying to lighten the mood but failing terribly. "Ah, for I am so very stupid, I have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Scarce. John Scarce." Cressida looked very confused. "You may know me as Death from that diary." Everything came back to Cressida in a moments time. She stared at the man, confounded. He was much more different from the diary. How come he was so gentle and kind? His tone became much deeper and unwelcoming. "So, you'd like to hear the truth, I reckon you'll change your opinion of me after this. Won't you lass?" She nodded. "Hmph, let's begin then. When I was a very young boy, around your age to be exactamundo', I went inside a forest. Yes, I was an idiot who actually believed in such petty rumours like black magic. Oh, but those rumours bit me back, you'll see in a bit. Anyways, I went to go see if there were actually witches and evil scum in the forest, sorry bout' my language darlin', but anyways, I fell off a cliff and was left in a comatose for a few darn good years. Maybe 13... My body was found by a witch. And being a stranger I was, she still cared for me and fed me, washed me. She could have left me to die, take my things. But she didn't. But one mornin', I woke up and I saw a cabin, I had been out for a few good years and had no dang idea where I was, but, I went to the shack and found a very old woman around the age of 51 in perfectly good health for her age, no plague, no nothing, but anyways, I was like, 'blimey, she's an alchemist'. But, she was dead somehow. No damage was done to the exterior of her body. Poisoned by someone else in these dark woods was my guess. I walked around the cabin and there was a bedside table which lay some sort of leather strapped diary with my name on it. I read the diary kept inside a crate beside her cot and I found out that she was my mother. She hated and left my pa' because he discriminated those below him. He was king in the nearby castle. She left him and me. She knew I would come here someday and when that day came, she kept me alive for the rest of my life knowing I would wake up one day. But there was somethin' very, very peculiar in her bedside table. It was some sort of gleaming jet black ebony ring with carvings of very sinister looking thorns and dead trees on it. I put it on and became an immortal monster. Many people came into the forest because of some storm that had formed around the castle and forest. People decided it was according to the people of the forest. People named the forest where many crooks lived Nightingale Forest. And those wanderers who decided to investigate the forest saw me, a monster. They called me the Headless Horseman, Pumpking, but my most known name was Death as I was the boy who outlived all. Who evaded death somehow, living past the average human being. I hunted those who despised me and the people of the forest. I learnt that those who were living in the forest were all innocent and had to take refuge from many accusations, ya know, black magic and such. Those who didn't know my side of the story. Those who judged me without my side of the story. For they didn't understand the truth. Then, a little girl and her mum, a famed priestess came to banish me. The mother was petrified by my appearance, not surprisingly, but the daughter watched me, not despised me, but she was curious. There was something strange about her so, I told her my story while being crucified of course, but she listened. She didn't run, she sat there pitying me. And I respected her for that. She released me soon after. She helped me, not like everybody else, and then she left. She was the only person who knew my story. The only one who knew the truth that I was innocent other than the people of the Nightingale. So, I ask you, girl, why haven't you run away yet?" Cressida's throat was too parched to speak. "I don't think you're that spooky." Death chuckled, "just like her you are." There was a long silence. They sat there for a few long minutes until they met eyes. "I'll send you back home darlin', don't worry, your mum will be happy to have to back," he said. "By the way, you might wanna ditch that friend o' yours," he interjected. In the blink of an eye, she was lying in the cliff, dirty but surprisingly unscathed. She had to head home, who knows how long she was out. Her parents would be worried sick.
Ending:
Cressida stood up. The diary wasn't there. She was too upbeat and relaxed to be angry at Sapphire. The cliff wasn't that deep for it was 10 feet deep. But, in favour of Cressida, she was an excellent rock climber for a pessimist. She cautiously inched her way out of the cliff whilst remembering her rock climbing sessions. It took almost an hour or two to carefully climb her way out of the cliff. The only thing keeping her from staying down and wasting too much time was the look in her mind of her parent's faces when they noticed she wouldn't be home for dinner. She finally had made her way out of the ditch. The mist wasn't there, however. She knew it would come but she was wrong. She waited for her impending approaching doom but it didn't come. She let out a gasp of relief. She found the area with the millions of minuscule footprints fairly easily as the mist wasn't there and decided to work her way out from there. "This is where she pushed me," said Cressida. "Forward," a familiar voice in her head told her. She obeyed. She forward walked into the gate just like Sapphire had. She laughed. It wasn't just a chuckle. She laughed until her lungs hurt at the thought of Sapphire bumping into the forest trees and trying to crawl over the gate. Her excitement soon died over very quickly. It was almost dusk. She jumped over the gate taking one last good look at the place of Death's birthplace and story. She turned around reluctantly hoping she would have another chance to meet him and with that, she sprinted towards the path that led to her home. Her parents would be preparing dinner by now. She panted for air as she saw the lights of Sapphire's overly large house. She rang the bell with a huge smile on her face. Sapphire's mother opened the door. "Dear god, you look like a mess, you'd want to talk with Sapphire won't you dear." Cressida hated her high-pitched voice, she sounded like a flock of flamingos. "Yeah, what do y-" Sapphire stood there petrified. Cressida moved her leg all the way back and in an instant, she kicked Sapphire's leg with all her might, which wasn't that hard to be completely honest. "My freaking $200 pants," she yelled. "You really are just a rich jerk," implied Cressida. "Mum," called Sapphire. Cressida ran as fast as she could to her house, unlocked the gate and rang the doorbell. "Yes 911, my lovely daughter has gone missing, I don't know where she went but, hold on, I reckon someone's at the door." Cressida stood there grinning from ear to ear at her mother. She dropped her phone. Her mother stood there like a stone as if she looked into Medusa's eyes. "Cressy dear, oh you idiot, where the hell were you," she asked whilst pulling her ear and hugging her. "Yes 911, here, so very sorry about that." "Mum?" "Go upstairs darling, shower and come down here for your favourite, pumpkin pie. You can tell us what happened after." "Okay." Cressida went upstairs the creaky floorboards to her room only to find a diary on her bedside table. She smiled. She knew that she was the only one who knew John Scarce's truth. The thing most important.
14 Years Later: (Epilogue)
Azalea was very curious for an 11-year-old girl. So was her younger brother Edward who happened to be eight-years-old at the time. Both got along very easily with each other. They both had inherited their mother's introversion as they were not the best at making friends so they relied on each other. They didn't see their father, Hugo much as he was out working in the US as an astronomer. Their mother, Cressida stayed home tending to the two children and her crops. They were very wealthy but none of them enjoyed living in wealth. They chose to live on a farm, it was a tradition in their family. "Zela, what's this?" "Blimey Edward, that's mum's safe. She said we can't open it, not even touch it," recited Azalea. "Huh, what's this Zela," asked Edward. Edward often asked Azalea many questions and instead of finding it to be annoying, she found it rather 'responsible' to sate her brother's curiosity. Azalea, on the other hand, was much of a control-freak and much wanted attention from her very busy father. "That's mum's diary! Put. It. Down." "After I read it," snickered Edward. Azalea would have like to do something but her curiosity but she digressed. And so Edward and Azalea read the diary and found there to be another page written by their mother. "So you've read my diary?" They jumped. "It's okay, let me tell you two the story of John Scarce. The man who taught me that the truth was most important." And so the kids listened as their mother recited the story of when she was learnt the truth.