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22 / F / in the shadows, y...
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Posted 8/20/08
This is for fate_chan_1994244's story request:

can you write a story about a young boy who lost everything he has in a bloody war?


"MOMMY!!!" a little boy cried.

"RUN!" a young woman yelled. She had a deep stab wound at her side. The whole village was in flames. Armored men riding horses and carrying torches were killing everyone. "They'll kill you! Run my child. And live" she collapsed.

"No. Mommy? MOMMY! WAKE UP!!!" the little child sobbed.

"Oh? What's this?" a cruel man's voice laughed from behind the boy. "Crying over your dead ma? How pathetic." The child turned around to look at the man with tears in his eyes. Unlike the others, he wasn't wearing a helmet and his horse was by his side instead of him riding it. The man had icy blue eyes and hair that was died red from all of the blood and fire. "Maybe I should've stabbed her somewhere safer and watched her try to run. It's a lot more fun if they run. I know!" he said mockingly, "You run! My dear child, it'll be a lot more fun don't you agree? I'll count to ten and then I'll come after you. One."

The child stood up form his position next to his mother's corpse.

"Two"

He started to run towards the forest to the East of the town.

"Three"

He ran faster and faster. He was sure that the man had already counted four but the roar of the fire and the screaming of the dieing people made it hard to hear.

Back with the man, his eyes glimmered with the sick excitement of hunt. "Nine. And ten. Ready or not little piggy, here I come." and swung himself onto his steed with easy and galloped toward the direction the child had gone.
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21 / F / what ever you DO...
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Posted 8/20/08
really good! I like it
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Posted 8/21/08 , edited 8/21/08
((Thanx ^_^. I know that you're prolly wondering what this has to relate to the previous part of the story. The first part was the Prologue. This is taking place several years later.))

A boy around 12 yelled out in surprise and pain as his boss kicked him awake. "Get up you lazy scoudrel. I ain't feeding ya for nutt'. Lazing 'bout like that. You trying ta cheat me of the coins I spend on ya for food? Who ya think put clothin' on yer fuckin back? Didn' I tell ya to get yer but ta work at dawn? Well, start workin'!!!"

The boy scrambled up from the small stack of hay he sleeps on every night and scurried off, afraid that his boss would kick him again. His job consists of polishing and sharpening the weapons in the shop. His boss was a blacksmith. A good one, when he's not drunk. And now-a-days, he's always drunk so no one wants to buy swords and weapons from him. That caused him to drink even more and take it all out on the boy.

"Hey lil' smithy!" a tall man with short blond hair outside laughed, "How's business taday? Not very fast? What a surprise!!! Tell your stupid master that if he wants costumers, he should be a hell lot more respectful to me!" The man was named Dray and he's the richest man in town. His words rule over the mayor's decisions and ever since the boss refused to give him the sword that another costumer ordered, Dray banned all of the town folks from buying stuff that he made.

The boy made no response and continued to polish the handle of a sword. "You lil' punk! When I talk to ya, look at me and listen!" Dray grabbed the boy's hair and forced him to look at him, "Understand?" he shook the boy and dropped him, "An' now you got my hands dirty." his voice was full of disgust and he walked away.

The boy thanked the heavens that his boss wasn't there. He'd get hell if the boss heard that and took it out on him again. He sighed and hoped that things won't get any worse. And of course, it did get worse.
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Posted 8/22/08 , edited 8/22/08
((Short post but things'll get better later on. More action and fighting.))

The war was still going on and another two years has passed. The boy was now around 14 and still nameless. Or at least, he doesn't remember his name. Last spring, soldiers stormed the town where he was and killed everyone. He hid and watched people falling with blood all over them, the houses burned down, capture the better looking lasses, and watched the soldiers leave the town.

Once again, he saw the scene from long ago. The man with the icy blue eyes walked right pass where he hid. His hair was white. Pure and somehow cold, like his eyes. Over 5 years and he didn't change at all from back then.

The boy clenched his teeth together at the thought of that man. It was spring again and he lived in the mountains with a group of bandits. He was a loner in the group, kept only because he was a great fighter and because he was the only one who can repair the weapons or forge something. The others called him the Blacksmith Brat

Right now, his only goal was the find that man and kill him.
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Posted 8/22/08
Ohhh, revenge.... poor boy's too young for that sort of thing. Oh well.... the world raises you as it sees fit, I guess.
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Posted 8/24/08
I was gonna make it 12 but considering that he'd make a really bad bandit and fighter at that age, I made it 14. That's why the post was so short. It was a side note on my plot that I didn't have before.......and like always, it'll prolly turn out pretty tragic and maybe even romantic. Hnnnnn........
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F / XXXCLASSIFIEDXXX
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Posted 9/10/08
i like where this is going
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F / hiding ... ~WhEre...
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Posted 9/14/08
Thanks sooo much for writing this story ...
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