Gettin good, isn't it? Is Sara alive, or has she succumb to her grisly fate? What does Rahab plan to do about it? Find out on...
The Little Halloween Girl: She Ain't So Little Anymore
by Ryoken
Kill. unfazed
That was the only thing he could possibly think about...maybe even ever think about again.
Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill...
As he rode through the night on his horse, the tears didn't even make it down his cheeks.
Something white blurred past his vision, and had he not regained some sense, he would never have known what it was. He stopped the horse and turned him around, speeding back the other way. When he saw the white thing coming into view, he slowed down the horse to a stop.
It was the white dress he'd clothed Sara in, now covered in fresh blood and hanging by a sword from a tree. Whoever did this to her was going to pay dearly.
KILL!!!!!!
Rahab rode off again, insanely going to the human citadel, planning a blood holocaust of the humans in his mind as he went, and the dress billowed in the soft wind.
Bienitio rode as close to Rahab as he could, but his horse was unable to go the speed that Rahab's could. Soon he too, came upon that blood-soaked dress, but he stopped and got off of his horse. He quickly sniffed the air like a bloodhound. Something didn't smell right about this. He went around the tree and discovered that a bush was awkwardly growing right next to and covering some of the roots of the tree. He moved the branches of the bush only to find that the bush wasn't even growing there, but had been taken up from the ground and placed over the corpse of a rabbit, it's stomach cut and its blood gathering in a small pile on the ground. That wasn't that human's blood, it was...Oh no, Lord Rahab! I've got to warn the militia immediately! He said and swiftly hurried back to camp.
At the time Bienitio arrived at camp, Rahab had stumbled onto an old abandoned fortress, however it seemed to have been rebuilt in places that needed repair. There was no moat to guard this fortress therefore there was no easy way for him enter. He could smell the Sarafan's vermin blood all the way from where he stood. He stepped back into the shadows of the forest to prepare his move.
"Dog'gone it, Maybell! If you don't get up right now, I'm sendin' you to the butcher by nightfall!" Someone yelled. Rahab traced the voice to its source. It was an elderly man, perhaps in his forties or fifties, trying to get his donkey to move. Apparently it was very old and weary of its journey. He kicked it, thinking it would get the animal to go. "I've gotta get these here clothes to them Sarafan by the time the sun starts to go down or else!" Rahab saw his opportunity. He cautiously walked up behind the man and then sliced the man's head clean off with the sword at his belt. He didn't care if he could've made a quick meal of this old man, who seemed to be a tailor. All he cared about was vengeance for Sara's murder. He unhooked the old donkey, knowing it would get him no where fast, and used his own horse instead. He also took a scratchy-looking cloak from the pile of clothes, not bothering to search through any of the rest of the clothes, and wrapped himself in it so that the Sarafan wouldn't recognize him. With one word, he was off to the Sarafan's stronghold.
"Halt, who goes there?!" Came a voice from above.
Rahab tried to use his most raspy voice. "Uh, tailor!" The gate opened its wide doors and a Sarafan knight came out to inspect the cargo. To Rahab's disgusted surprise, the knight snickered sickeningly, and another guard nearer the door signaled him to bring in the cart and the knight held on as it pulled into courtyard.
The knight grinned evilly. "Take the dress and follow me," he said. Dress? Why would a woman be here in a stronghold? Rahab thought. He gathered up the only dress that he saw, a white flowing gown that looked as though it was tailored for a wedding, and followed the knight up many flights of stairs and halls, he did his best to memorize his way back, until they reached a heavy door with a lock. The knight unlocked the door to reveal what must have been a wizard, studying books or something, and someone lying in a bed across the room from him.
"Tailor's here, Shek'ron," said the knight as he got out of Rahab's way to let him in.
"Excellent, right on schedule," Shek'ron said. He got up to greet Rahab, not knowing it was he, and clapped his hands three times. He signaled Rahab to move aside as three female servants came in. From where he now stood, he could see who lied in the bed, covered with a blanket from the neck down. "Give the dress to my servants and follow me, Mr. Farlow, I shall give you what is rightfully yours," the wizard said. Rahab gave them the dress, now fully concerned about what was going on. For here lied Sara, seemingly alive and somewhat well, apparently being dressed for a wedding while unconscious, that she didn't even know was going to happen. Rahab almost lost sight of Shek'ron as he thought to himself and when he turned the last corner, he was almost face to face with the old man. "Don't get lost now, my friend." He turned around again and began walked. Rahab thought something strange was going on with this Shek'ron, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.
"Pardon me, but, uh, remind again why I made that er, dress for m'lady?" He said in his raspy voice.
"My, what fragile memory you have," he replied. "She is to be wed, why else would I order to you make such a fine gown?"
"To who?"
"You'll know soon enough."
Rahab soon began to notice that they were headed farther and farther down, perhaps to where the cells were? because it began to get darker. Finally they stopped, and Shek'ron turned around to face Rahab again.
"Here we are."
"What do you mean? Where are we?"
"At your cell. Get him!" He yelled and everything went dark.
OMG! What has happened to Rahab?! Is this strange magician trying to cheat who he thinks is Mr. Farlow or does he suspect that it isn't the real Farlow?! Find out next time!