Here's chapter three, loyal readers! I own nothing but Morgan. To septemberfall; i chose the name Klaus for the Hessian, simply because it rings in my mind; when I think of the Hessian, Klaus is what comes into my head next. hehe. Come on, people, more reviews. MAKE ME WANT TO WRIIIIIIIIIITE! -_- *scold scol scold nag nag nag*
Klaus lay in his tree, lazing around like your average log, staring at the brownish-black walls and thinking, thinking about his past, and pondering on the misty patches in his memory. He had not heard the whispering voice since it had told him his name. Daredevil, his loyal black horse, stood in his stall, nickering softly. Klaus tried to concentrate on a misty spot in his memory. His head started hurting, but he forced his way through it. He saw himself, surrounded by American soldiers. His head ached worse. They attacked him, and he killed a few. His head was white agony, and he pulled back from the memory, holding his head. What had happened?
(those star things that indicate a change of setting and time)
Morgan sighed softly. It was very cold down here, and since John could not sleep with company, she slept on a pallet in front of a dying fire. The cold wood under her body could not be comfortable. The dark mass of trees that was the Western Woods was etched against the sky; a darker black standing against a pinpricked cape. She could not sleep. Terror coursed through her veins. The Hessian. The Hessian. The Hessian. What if he came back? What if I was asleep when he did. Would he kill me? Would he ignore me? What is death like? What is it like to stare him in the eye and see that blade-the thought sent a cold burst of electricity down her back-see that blade coming at her throat. Morgan gave a barely muffled cry. She sat up, bolt upright, and scooted backwards until her back was against the comforting solidity of the wall. She had heard footsteps on her porch; heavy, booted footsteps. And just under the thumping of heavy boots, the tiny tinkle of metal. The tinkle made by spurs as they spun. Morgan grabbed her trusty poker and tried to fold herself into the plank floor or the log walls behind her. A tiny moan of fear escaped her lips, and the thought came, foolishly, that she should douse the fire before he killed her, so the house wouldn't burn down. She prayed he'd leave her be. THe door opened and he stepped inside. His eyes looked grey in the moonlight. His pale skin glittered like silver. Morgan was filled with two things; burning attraction and searing fear. Part of her wanted to run to him. The other part warned her to stay away. While her body fought with itself, she watched his eyes skim around the room. She hunkered low as the glacial gaze swept over her, passed over her, returned to her and stayed there. She met his eyes with terror and something else. Something she dared not admit. With a primal survival instinct, up she sprung, and she charged at him. She saw his eyes get wide, and she tackled him. They fell to the ground. Morgan was out the door before the Hessian, stunned by the impact, had gotten to his feet. She saw his horse nicker at her, and she ran next door to the Gjiberton's. His footsteps echoed behind her. She reached up to pound the back of the door. A gloved hand snaked round and clamped over her mouth, spinning her around to look up into cold, shining blue eyes. She fainted in the arms of the Hessian.
Klaus rolled his eyes and slung the woman over his shoulder. He walked back to Daredevil and mounted the horse, and let the steed make it's own way to the Tree of the Dead. He had only wanted questions answered, but he had chased her all over the village and could not risk her calling for help. He could not just leave her either, it'd have sparked something he really did not want to deal with. He sighed and dismounted; they were at the tree. The roots waved and opened for him, like a charmed snake. He carried Morgan inside and set her on the pallet of fur he slept on. The floor would do for him. Daredevil jumped into the tree and stood in his stable. Klaus unsaddled him and stroked the horse's soft flanks. His ribs ached from where the woman-fiery bitch-had tackled him. And there was a bump on the back of his head. "Mien kopf Schmertz...1" He said to the wall. "Mensch2!" He spat at the fainted form. He curled up against the wall and whispered more cursewords to himself softly, staring begrudgingly at many inanimate objects including his boot, the ceiling, his sword and the dead bug in the corner. She hat fire, and a core of steel, to charge at him like she had.
Ok, another chapter done-ito. Sorry about how inaccurate the German is, I used Babylon online translator. Translations; 1, 'my head hurts', 2 'Bitch!' ^^
Please don't flame me for bad translating skills. It's not my fault, honest! More swearing up ahead, including Morgan and Klaus having a staring contest and then going swimming. Unintentionally. Seeyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa peeps.
