Categories > Original > Fantasy > Silhouette of a Crescent Moon

Chapter 1

by JeKe 0 reviews

Category: Fantasy - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Fantasy,Horror - Published: 2012-05-07 - Updated: 2012-05-07 - 2110 words

0Unrated
It had just gone ten o’ clock and I was an hour late getting home, I wouldn’t normally take this shortcut because it was creepy but I was in so much trouble that if I didn’t I would be grounded for the rest of my life. So I took it, walking as quickly as possible so I could reach the end, when I heard footsteps behind me. It sounded like several people following me, when I slowed down, the footsteps slowed down too. I started running and suddenly they were on me, grabbing me from behind and dragging me to some unknown location. I kicked and screamed trying to get away but they were too strong, while I was kicking, I hit one of them in the stomach and they lost their grip on me. I fell to the floor and banged my head. That was the last thing I remember.
I woke up screaming. Where am I? What happened? Why does my head hurt? My thoughts were all over the place. I screamed for someone to help me for what seemed like days. I screamed until I was hoarse but still no-one came. I was in a pitch black room tied to a chair and my wrists were sore from trying to wriggle out of the binds that held me. I felt so empty. I wanted to go home so badly, I knew my parents would be frantic. I just wanted to see them, for them to tell me it would all be alright. That’s when the tears started pouring down my face and that’s when he came in.
He entered slowly, cautiously, moving along where I assumed the wall was, only stopping when he reached my side. I could hear him breathing steadily beside me. I began to sob softly. Repeating, ‘Please don’t hurt me,’ over and over again.
‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ He said over me. ‘I’m here to help you.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ I screamed. ‘Let me go.’
‘Calm down.’ He said, calmly. ‘Drink this.’
He lifted a glass of water, to my mouth and I gulped it down quickly, managing to spill most of it down the front of my top.
‘What do you want from me?’ I said between sobs.
‘I don’t want anything from you; we’re trying to protect you.’
‘Who’s we?’
‘I’ll explain later, for now, let me untie you.’ As he said this he untied me, freeing my hands.
‘What are you going to do to me?’ I said, rubbing my wrists to relieve some of the pain.
‘Nothing, well...’ He paused. ‘Not nothing, we’re going to help you but you’re not going to be able to leave.’
‘I don’t need your help; I just want to go home to my family.’
‘I know you think that now, but you’ll feel differently. I promise you.’
I didn’t know whether to believe him, blind trust is idiotic at best. At worst, it’s dangerous. But something in his voice made me want to believe him. Want to do whatever he said without even asking why. His voice seemed to command calm on who ever hear it.
‘If you don’t want to hurt me, why was I tied to a chair in a pitch black room?’
‘You never know how people will react when they’re taken, it’s for safety precautions.’
‘How many people have you ‘taken’?’ I asked hesitantly.
‘Me personally? Four. But many others have been taken before you including myself.’
Before I could react to this piece of information, he said. ‘Come and meet the others.’
He gently took my hand and led me from the room where I had been held captive. I was led down a corridor with white walls, and several doors on each side. The doors were little more than a piece wood propped against a hole in the wall. There were no handles, when we reached the end of the corridor, there another room. The room I entered was small with low lighting and several shabby, brown sofas by each wall, there was an old radio on top of a coffee table in the middle of the room. Everything seemed to be covered in a thin layer of dust, suggesting that wherever were had been out of use for some time. There were no windows, making the room feel even smaller especially with the four teenage boys that stood around the room. They were all staring at me intently, judging my reaction to them and my situation. They were all fairly tall and had a wary look about them, like they had faced many hardships way before their time. All of them began to approach me, I cowered away slightly stepping back and bumping into my captor behind me.
‘One at a time,’ He commanded, ‘Don’t frighten her.’ He told them, as if she were a frightened animal cornered by humans.
‘This is Kyle.’ Kyle was a tall boy with pale skin who looked only fifteen. His hair was white blond and covered most of his face. He had a piercing on his bottom lip and a nose ring. He was slouched, and staring at the floor like a moody teenager being told off.
‘Hi.’ Kyle said abruptly, staring at the carpet, frowning deeply. I could tell he disliked me if not hated me but I didn’t know what I had done to him.
The next boy who approached was called Stick. He was shorter than Kyle but was very muscular. He had grey eyes and short dark brown hair, he reminded me of a gorilla. He looked older than the rest, but he still couldn’t have been more then sixteen. He wore a slight look of concern on his face, whether it was towards me or the situation I didn’t know.
‘Sorry about ... you know.’ He said, his eyes flicking towards the door where I had been tied up, before shifting back and landing on my face.
The next boy could not have been more than ten, he was small but wore the same lived in look that the others wore. His name was Tristan. He had green eyes that sparkled with intelligence, and they were magnified by owl-like glasses. His hair was jet black and uncut. Tristan didn’t say anything just quickly looked me in the eyes, his expression neutral, before turning and walking to stand by Kyle.
The last boy was different to the others. While they were wary of me, his expression was one of trust and he treated me as though he’d known me for a long time. He had brown hair that stopped just below his ears, his eyes were light blue and seemed to read me like an open book. His name was Eric.
‘You okay?’ He asked with genuine concern.
‘I’m fine.’ I managed to stutter. He looked unconvinced as he walked away.
That was when the boy behind me began to talk again, I turned to face him, ‘We were all taken just like you; we have no family except each other. You’ll learn to accept our ways.’ He paused, looking at me appraisingly, as though he expected me to say something. I stayed silent and waited for him to continue. ‘You asked why we took you and why you can’t go home. It’s because there is something out there. In the night, it stalks you waiting for the perfect moment to capture you, to drag you away into the night. You may be lucky and your body may be found a few years later, mutilated beyond the point of identification but many others have not been so fortunate. What does this, we do not know, but what we do know is that it only goes after certain people. People with a crescent-shaped birthmark on the back of their necks, the mark is rare and we didn’t know that it appeared on girls until we saw you. It isn’t much of an explanation but it explains why we had to take you because if we didn’t you would have died.’
I didn’t know whether to believe them or not. I had the birthmark but everything else could have been a lie. I guess I just had to trust them. If they were lying and tried to hurt me, it was better they believed I trusted them so I could escape more easily.
Everyone stared at me and I just stood there looking at my shoes.
‘Do you understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you believe us?’
I looked into the face of the boy who had released me.
‘What’s your name?’ He asked, instead.
I never told anyone my name because it was a curse.
‘Silhouette of a crescent moon.’ I looked up and all the boys’ expressions had changed to alarm except his. He was the one who had spoken to me, the one who had untied me, the one everyone seemed to look up too. He had the air of a leader. He had dark brown hair that fell naturally into his eyes which were pale green with a tint of purple. What? I did a double take – no, it couldn’t be. Was he the boy from the story? He couldn’t be but he had to be. It was a story I was told when I was a child, past down from generation to generation.
‘Darren,’ I whispered. ‘Your name is Darren.’
All the others went into uproar then.
‘How do you know his name?’
‘Who the hell is she?’
But I ignored them; I just looked at him, gauging his reaction.
‘Yes, it is. How do you know my name?’ He said quietly, moving slowly towards me and looking intently into my eyes. ‘Quieten down. All of you.’ He shouted at the others, I flinched and stepped backwards.
‘You’re the one, my family talks about; you’re the one who will...’
‘Who will what?’
‘I can’t say.’
‘Why because,’ I paused considering whether to tell them or not, ‘only my family can know. Only my family and you, all I can say is there is a curse that will spread throughout every country in the world. There is a creature who will be woken up by the meeting of a Moon and a Sun. ’
‘A sun?’ Eric asked casually.
‘What’s your last name, Darren?’ I asked quietly.
‘Rise.’
‘Your family is of the Sun tribe? Right?’
‘Yes.’ Darren replied.
‘Tribes?’ Stick queried.
‘There are two old tribes, the Sun and the Moon. I suppose now a days you would call them cults, they believed in old magic and creatures of the night, but they did not worship them, they protected the country with their spells and together they protected the day and the night, we are all from the Sun tribe.’ Darren said quietly before I could say anything, ‘ But something happened, something attacked that the tribes could not defend against so they wielded a spell, that says when a Silhouette of a Moon meets the descendant of the first Sun, the power to defeat the creature and bring the tribes back together will have been formed.’
‘Who’s the descendant of the first Sun?’ Tristan asked, in a nervous voice that was hoarse from disuse.
‘I am.’ Darren said, in a voice that sent shivers down my spine. While everyone was still trying to take in the new information, Darren said quietly, ‘I’ll show her, where she’ll be staying.’
I followed him out of the room and back along the dimly lit corridor and through one of the holes in the wall into a small room with a bed and a chest of drawers with a mirror propped haphazardly on top. I looked at my reflection and I didn’t recognise the person who stared back, my blonde hair was matted and my blue eyes looked sleep deprived. My mascara was streaked down my face from where I had been crying. I looked a mess.
‘Where’s my bag?’ I asked, looking back towards him. I studied his face, he was my supposed soul mate, the love of my life, according to the stories. His expression was one of calm composure. He must know the stories, he must.
‘In the other room.’
‘Can I have it?’
‘Yes, but you can’t have your phone.’
‘Fine, is there a bathroom here?’
‘Yes, I’ll get your bag and show you to it.’
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