Tempeste Lajeunesse brushed a lock of her dark black hair behind her ear and pouted her lips. Her mother had yet to refuse this face. Madame Lajeunesse simply shook her head at her young daughter and continued to walk. Tempeste stared after her in shock. Her mother had just said no to her? And when her request had been so noble. All she had wished to do was return the Debruyne's little dog, Sasha.
"But, Maman! Be reasonable." Tempeste argued.
"No... Tempeste. No, no, no! I will not have you seen associating with that monster and his riff-raff mother... you are above them." Madame Lajeunesse responded, staring at her five-year-old daughter down her nose. Tempeste made a face and stamped her foot angrily.
"Maman... how could you be so judgmental!"
"Now, see here young lady... your father has worked very hard for his social standing, do you hear? I won't have you ruining our good name with some childish folly over a dog!" And with a huff she began to walk down the park path. Tempeste narrowed her eyes and bit her lower lip.
"I'll catch you up Maman... I lost my ribbon." She called, carefully scooping the tiny dog up into her arms. Before her mother had a chance to turn and see her daughter's offending action Tempeste had disappeared into the brush and was running off for the Debruyne's small cottage at the edge of town.
The Debruyne family consisted of Madeline and her son Erik. From the rumors Tempeste had heard Madeline was mad and her son was death incarnate, but of course being a naturally perky and optimistic child, Tempeste had conveniently forgotten all this. As she approached the house, she noted the well-tended gardens and the clean white picket fence. How could anyone not love such a house?
Tempeste set Sasha down on the stone walk and made her way up to the front door confidently. She raised her hand and knocked on the door sharply. What a sight she must have been, a stout little child, no taller than three feet, with her hair all flying and her jaw set in pure determination. One might have even laughed at the sight of her... at his own risk of course.
The door swung open to reveal a tall, thin boy. His face was hidden by a pure white mask and all that Tempeste could see were his lips, which were set in a stony grimace. His eyes were pale, she noticed, and they reminded her of the sea she had seen once when her parents had taken her on holiday to Calais.
"May I help you?" He asked coldly, remaining half-hidden in the shadows of the cottage. Tempeste gulped at the sound of his voice, like the angels the pastor spoke of at church. She had never even imagined such a voice. She was snapped out of her reverie when she noticed the boy was staring at her.
"Oh... I apologize Messieur. I believe I have come upon your canine." Tempeste replied, gesturing to Sasha with her hand. The boy's face lightened as he scooped the dog tenderly into his arms. Tempeste smiled at the touching reunion, and stared shyly at her shoes.
"Sasha... you naughty girl! Don't ever, ever do that again." He said, scratching the dog's ears affectionately. He put the dog down as suddenly as he had picked her up and cocked his head at Tempeste, as though he was surprised she was still there. "Yes?"
"I'm Tempeste Lajeunesse. How do you do?" Tempeste smiled, extending her hand. The boy stared at it as though it was somehow disconnected from her body.
"I don't bite you know." She said, giggling a little. He reached out slowly and grasped her hand, still staring at her cautiously. "And you are...?"
"Erik Debruyne." He answered shortly, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
"Well, pleased to make your acquaintance." Tempeste answered, taking her hand back.
"The pleasure is all mine, mamselle." Erik replied cordially, although still cold. Just then a cold wind decided to blow across the front steps causing Tempeste to shiver, and rub her arms vigorously. Erik bit his lower lip and contemplated this site for a moment before opening the door wider and stepping aside, gesturing that Tempeste should step in. Tempeste looked over his shoulder once and then followed him inside without a second thought.
The night was silent and still Tempeste couldn't sleep. It had been three years since she met Erik and ever since she had lay awake at night in pure anxiety over his safety. The villagers were not the most understanding of people and Tempeste worried that the occasional rock-through-a-window, might someday become something much more serious. And her worries were not without justification.
Just as Tempeste was about to drift to sleep a loud roar jolted her awake. She slipped from between the covers and pulled on her robe. She ran down the stairs and opened the front door. The street was illuminated with an odd orangey glow, casting long twisting shadows on the darkened windows of the other houses. Tempeste turned her head to the source of the glow and her hand fluttered to her throat, her mouth open in horror.
There at the end of the street was a mob, all with torches ablaze and voices raised in rage. Without even thinking of getting her slippers or warmer covering she ran down the street at top speed, stumbling over the cobblestones, sometimes even over her own feet. She finally reached the mob and began to shove her way through, creeping between legs and under arms until she saw what they were all circling...
"SASHA!" She screamed out, lunging against an arm that was suddenly holding her back. She struggled desperately against them and screamed out to the yelping dog, lying defenseless on her side as several boys took their turns at kicking her. Tempeste even recognized some of the boys from her school taking turns at Sasha. The man who was holding her back shoved her roughly away blocking her view. Tempeste hit the ground with a thud, and began to struggle to get up when she heard a final anguished howl from Sasha. Tempeste let out an agonized cry and crawled toward where she could see the dog.
Sasha's fur was bloody and dirty, and her neck and legs were bent and twisted at odd angles. Just as Tempeste was about to pick Sasha up in her arms when she heard the front door to the Debruyne's home creaked open. Tempest closed her eyes hoping that the one who had opened it was not who she thought it was. But the cries from the crowd confirmed her suspicions.
"It's the monster!"
"Get Him!"
"Come to collect your precious dog, corpse?"
Tempeste covered her ears with her hands, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her eyes were streaming tears and her hands were stained crimson with Sasha's blood. Erik stepped out further from the door, his eyes twisted with rage. Tempeste tried to signal to him to go back in, but he looked as though he could see right through her.
"Erik! Erik, go back in!" she screamed.
"How could you do this to her?" Erik moaned, snatching the broken body into his arms.
The first to advance upon him were the young boys from Tempeste's class, next were the young men in the town, and finally the full-grown men. Erik didn't stand a chance. She heard his horrid scream before she saw the bloody knife and slashed mask raised high above her head for the crowd to see. A roar of approval went up from the mob.
No doubt they would have killed them if Tempeste hadn't dragged Erik, still clutching Sasha to his chest. His mask was gone and his sallow scarred skin was slashed in several places. Tempeste slammed the door behind her, leaning against it in exhaustion. She looked at Erik and slumped to the floor when she saw him. His shirt was stained with blood from a stab wound.
"Erik... my God, Erik. You're hurt. Come and lay down." She whispered, trying to lead him to the couch. He jerked away from her, not letting go of Sasha.
"I... have...to b...bury her." He said weakly, his breathing ragged.
"My Lord! What happened?" Madeline said, rushing down the stairs. Erik was already heading out for the back yard, and Tempeste knew that nothing could stop him, so she took the time to explain the whole situation to Madeline.
"And the worst thing is... my father was with them. Tell me why." She rasped.
"You know I can't." Madeline replied, touching Tempeste shoulder lightly.