Secrets From Beneath
Notes:
Pranks Are So Siriusly Padfoot - Thanks for your reviews :). I'm really flattered by your comments and I'm glad that you adore the way I wrote this story :).
Ron's Only Girl - That must've really hurt :(. But don't worry about it. I'm glad you had the chance to review my story :).
Hafthand - Thanks for your review! Yup, there's always tension between those two... it's more fun that way and i can't have them falling for each other just yet :)
Karana Belle - Thanks for your review :). hmm, yeah, his followers are pretty evil... maybe i could use them :). haha, trust me, what they agreed on isn't that important... there'll be bigger things later ;)
Chapter 5
It was a dark, starry night with the moon shining every so brightly above Parca, a small, unknown village in London. The town consisted of a few hundred residents, all who maintained a healthy sense of friendship between each other. Everyone, by now, would have gone to bed, exhausted from household chores, and jobs that required as much strength as one could muster up. The children would be sleeping peacefully, dreaming about the wonderful day that they had playing to their hearts' content and enjoying as much of their childhood as they possibly could. There was a feeling of peace throughout the whole village, which was what made it seemed very ideal to others who had not lived in it for long.
Although the night seemed silent, faint sounds can be heard if one listened closely. Traveling closer to one end of the village, where the houses were a bit farther apart with trees and bushes surrounding them was a small, old workshop where the faint noises were originated. Light was streaming through the windows, piercing the darkness of the night. Inside the workshop contained a wooden table and a matching chair to accompany it. Papers were clustered all over the table in such a messy manner that no one would be able to comprehend what they were all about – except for one person. That one person, however, was ignoring the papers completely, not wanting to deal with the issues of the outside world.
He was, instead, leaning against the window frame, muttering his thoughts out loud. He didn't care; no one was here besides him to hear them.
"Got to go. Got to get out. Got to go. Got to get out," he said disturbingly, repeating these phrases many times.
He clutched his hand tighter, and rocked his feet up and down. "Must go, we must go. Must not stay here."
Deciding that the light in his workshop was a great distraction, he took out his wand and turned it off. He then went back to his original spot, and peered out the window, looking only at how the leaves on the trees were swaying about from the wind.
"You're not safe here, darling, no you're not. Come with me, we mustn't stay here. You'll be safe with me."
One would be more than curious at this point, since there wasn't any other person inside the workshop. He was not mad; he was a brilliant man but was driven to insanity by his own creation.
"Where shall we go? The farthest place from here, I suppose. Yes, I'm sorry, we must leave it here. We can not do anything about it," he paused, letting the silence sink in. "Yes, I know, he'll be left alone, but he can handle. I need to protect you now. Don't worry, darling, everything will be all right once we escape."
A sudden shiver went through his body, which made him even tenser than he already was. He grasped his hand even tighter, holding it against his chest, and slid down the wall.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," he murmured frighteningly, shaking his head. "It's too early, too early."
Outside the wind was howling, making noises as it passed his window, but the old man paid no attention to that. His eyes and mind were completely transfixed on the door, opposite to where he was sitting. Feeling as though he was about to suffocate, he closed his eyes momentarily, taking the time to recover to breathing properly.
He sensed that someone was approaching, and he prepared himself for the worst. If he used his tactics correctly, he would be able to live through the next day. If not, then at least he had fulfilled his ultimate goal. He started silently mouthing words to a prayer, hoping to be saved from this torturous situation. He would do absolutely anything to receive one more chance at life.
He could hear someone trying to open the wooden door, but as much locks and spells that he had placed, he knew that they would be able to open it with one flick of their wand. It was simply impossible to escape. The door was slightly opening now, and he inhaled sharply, expecting to face his death.
"Papa?"
He immediately opened his eyes and saw, to his relief, a tall but sturdy boy standing by the door.
"What are you doing here, Papa?" the boy asked curiously, walking closer towards his father. "You need rest."
"Yes, I know, Salvador," the man said, trying his feelings of fear and anxiety. "I will be fine."
"Would you like me to accompany you back to the house, Papa?" his son asked, helping his father stand up.
"Yes, thank you."
Seeing some sort of shimmering object inside of his father's clutched hand, he decided to help his father carry it, in case it will get lost.
"Papa, I will help you carry that," Salvador said, as he reached for the object.
"No!" the old man suddenly exclaimed, frightening his child with such action. When he realized the person he was talking to, his cold expression quickly softened.
"I'm sorry, my dear boy. That was completely unacceptable of me," he apologized, trying to calm his son down. "Forgive me; I've had a very long day. I'll be fine once I have some rest. Let's head back to the house, shall we?"
His son nodded and continued helping his father walk out of the workshop, and towards their own home, which was close by.
Little did they know that they were being watched from behind the bushes.
TBC.
please R&R.
(I apologize if this chapter reminds you of Lord of the Rings somehow, since it isn't my intention. It's very different.)