Hey y'all!
So here is the new 1864 story you guys were promised!
Inspired by both the movie "Gone with the wind" and the screening of said film during 2x22 in Mystic Falls. You'll see what comes out!
NOTICE: The second chapter won't be updated 'till the story gets to +15 reviews. Be sure to leave a comment with what you expect/wish to see in the story line! (who knows, maybe I can take a few suggestions!)
YES. There is supernatural. How? You'll find out.
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Gone with the Wind
Gunpowder and Solitude
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Atlanta - July, 22nd 1864
Dear diary, the war arrived here today.
They say the Yankees are going to be attacking the city for an extended time, but no one really seems to understand the burden that all those bombs and deaths will bring to the innocent people residing in the county.
One thing I know for sure: if mother were here, she would have been distraught to see her beautiful Georgia sunset ruined by the powder and smoke that has been covering up the southerner skies.
After all, the beauty of the place we lived in was all we had.
Now I have neither a home nor a heartwarming view to hold onto during the day.
Only a grave I'm sitting on, the one of my beloved parents. Along with an ancient silver necklace I was given by a gypsy in the streets today.
But besides that, I have nothing anymore.
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Elena sighed resentfully.
She stopped her writing because she couldn't waste any more paper. She knew she had used all her possessions to buy some bread that day that she knew would get her along for the following week or so.
Gazing around, she realized how endangered she felt.
As of bitterly echoing her thoughts, a loud blast of a bomb in the background startled her.
She instinctively held onto her necklace, bringing her knees to her chest and remembering the jet black eyes of the old crazy woman that had given it to her that morning.
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"It'll bring peace in the heart" the gypsy had whispered, touching the girl's hand while handling it to her, carefully hiding it for anyone that could see it. But truth is that no one was really paying attention to anyone that day. The invaders had just arrived in the city, spreading chaos while people frantically ran back and forth, the urgency and danger plain in the air.
"I don't have anything to pay you back with. I'm sorry but I can't accept it" Elena had quickly tried to cut it off, giving the jewelry back to its owner, who cracked a smile with her ruined teeth.
"No no… You can be alike me." she put together her contorted and grammatically wrong reasoning. "Think you need necklace and no want money. It bring good for souls that know how use it" she smiled weirdly as if with her stare she knew she was piercing through the girl's soul, and it brought chills down the young one's back.
She instinctively retrieved her hand, feeling a pressure overwhelming her from the sole contact. Elena remembered what people said about gypsies. They always wanted something in return, and if you didn't deliver they would jinx or mark you permanently. She had always chosen to believe that it was because they did it in order to survive. But she couldn't help feeling different after that.
She didn't want any troubles, so she nodded off to then quickly hurry away after murmuring a "thank you".
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She didn't know when she had fallen asleep.
But she was sure that she couldn't breathe.
Her first thought was that it was that very necklace strangling her.
Elena woke up in a whimper, frightened by that nightmare; only to realize it had all been true.
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The smoke was so thick it made her eyes watery and it was impossible to tell which way to go.
Her mind raced backwards, remembering the war. Recalling every scream after the bombs she had heard that morning, she figured out she had to move quickly if she didn't wanna die or lose a limb.
But she didn't know where to go.
She panicked the moment she realized there was only one way out of that literal impending hell and she had only so many odds to guess the right direction in the thick mist.
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Elena started to cough harder and harder, her lungs burning and the strings of her corset threatening to suffocate her. She fought the dizziness, standing up and trying to focus from where the louder noises came from. She knew she had to go the opposite way.
She could sense on her skin another blast was gonna take place. It was like her sixth sense was adverting her of it, making the hair on her flesh stand an the coldness run through her system.
It only took a second. She was flung onto the ground, her head hitting hard on the angle of her mother's gravestone.
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She smelled her own blood as it rippled down her cheek to reach her upper lip.
She tried to take a deeper breath, only failing.
They were getting closer and she swore she had never been more afraid in her life.
Elena was hit with the realization this was going to be her final moment.
Dizziness crippled in, leaving her numb to her surroundings as it all seemed to fade out.
She welcomed it.
She couldn't experience her death, she didn't want to feel the flames on her skin burning her alive.
So she just closed her eyes and waited for it to be over.
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Goodbye world was all she thought.
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"Stand up"
The voice was new to her.
Immediately, her eyes shot open but were not functioning properly.
"I said stand up"
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She was hit in a way that didn't hurt so bad –or maybe it did, she couldn't tell- by something hard on her leg.
Two black boots paced towards her as she crawled to the figure in front of her.
Elena let her eyes wander upward, hoping to see whatever was going on.
Her breath got stuck in her throat, again she wasn't able to let the air flow in her lungs. But this time it was because hope was thrown back in the picture, too suddenly for anyone to accept.
When she made eye contact with the man standing in front of her, she thanked the Universe for not letting her go down without a fight.
This was the chance at getting away from that hell. She surely wasn't going to waste it.
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Out of the blue, she was reminded of the tiny pendant hung on her neck as she instinctively hid it in her embarrassingly ruined corset.
"I will let you perish here"
"Who are you?" Elena tried to fix her gaze on the man's face before her, but it was too confusing. Too much smoke. Too much effort for her weakened senses.
"Jonathan Salvatore. Now stand up and get moving".
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The loud explosions from the outside seemed to be just a normal life event that didn't touch the drunk and mundane not so gentleman of the Richard's Tavern.
Overnight, it had become shelter –so to say- for those who were too selfish or senseless to care for what was happening on the outside.
"Damn Yankees" the man spat as he gulped down the bitter liquid in the glass, while sitting on an unstable stool. He had opted to stay away from his usual spot of whenever he visited that place.
It was a table by the window pan that had always let him observe the city while going unseen.
He didn't want to get any glass splinter in case the thin glass would explode, so he had settled to just sit there, in the middle of deserters like him.
Needless to say the place was crawling with northerners.
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He grunted, gesturing for another refill. When the bartender looked at him puzzled –he had been drinking for the past hour non stop, so what?- he shot him a look that could have intimidated even the most dangerous being.
He needed to be buzzed because the alternative would have meant going crazy.
He had just been revealed to this kind of obscurity and he now knew how capable he could be of doing the worst.
The easier path was relishing in the essence of things, no brakes nor attachment. This was how he had decided to live.
Suddenly, the man heard a loud noise coming from behind him.
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He turned to see the tavern's door sprang open to reveal two union militaries and an old homeless old woman thrown on the ground.
He couldn't care less if the bastards were taking it on the weaker. After all, wasn't it what he did as well?
An agonizing shout was heard, and he turned on the stool to witness the scene just to find amusement during his dull night.
The eyes of the woman suddenly laid on him, as he felt he was being inspected and analyzed by the deep black stare.
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"You" was what the old lady grunted to him before she was shot in the head, laughs and whistles coming from everywhere in the place.
Somehow, he knew some invisible force had landed on his skin and had penetrated through his pores, inexplicably making the hair on his arm stand.
Whatever it was, he damned the existence of those gypsies with all his strength.
Gulping down the alcohol, Damon stood up and hurriedly left the place.
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Here was chapter 1! What do you guys think just happened? Now it's up to you to spread love and appreciation to get more of this story!
See you soon! (hopefully!) And don't forget to start reading (if you haven't ) Lone Sun!
xoxo Nadia