|The Tavern (standard:fantasy, 2151 words)|
|Author: Zato||Added: Apr 26 2001||Views/Reads: 1723/992||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A man runs from the brotherhood, a deadly organization composed of the undead. To escape he must flee to his past, The Tavern.|
The Tavern It was small, the niche that I hid in. The concert felt bare on my skin, making bruises and cuts on my elbows and knees. It felt unsafe, hiding in that corner, as if I was exposed to the world and there was nothing standing between the danger that hid outside, and myself. It was fear, I realized, that led me to run, to hide from all that I knew. But in the end I realize I was testing my limits, of how far I could go. Crawling out of the crate I had crawled into, I quickly dashed off again down the warehouse, my feet giving the loud footsteps that echoed off the walls. I did not even stop to think of who might hear, or how far they were, I just ran. It didnít matter anymore that someone might be hurt, it didnít matter anymore that some people might feel oppressed. All I cared about was getting away, staying alive. I had realized, on the moment of my near death, that I wanted to live. I wanted to live, to taste the warm air of spring once again, to make the mistakes of tomorrow and feel the warmth of love once again, fake or real. And so I ran, afraid and alone, into the darkness. Reaching to the door I soon found myself out in the darkness of night. A cobblestone path I saw then, appearing just beyond my view past the gates of the warehouses, and again I was on my feet. My legs seemed to carry themselves, as if driven by some motive of their own, independent of my mind. I did not think of the danger that was probably stalking me from behind, or of the love that I lost in the darkness, or of the danger that would await me elsewhere. I actually did not think at all, just acted, just responded to the events that fell before me. The road was long, longer than I realized for I did not know where I was going. I realized then that I didnít have a plan, didnít have a course that I wanted to follow, to attain to. I could go to the watch guards at the edge of town, I supposed. Or I could just run to the next town. I had to be realistic; I had to find a place to stay in town where no one could find me, a place where danger was not an option because I was around friends. I had to run away from my destiny and my family. I had to run away from the life that I always thought belonged to me, I had to go back to my past to hide from my future. It did not take a while, but the road continued on after my destination, the inn. It was the place of my birth, or rather of the events of my childhood, where I had hung around in as an orphan child. Even before I opened the door memories of happy times flooded my head. Friends I had gained here, friends I had lost here all within the confines of my world, something I alone could control a god almost. And a single sign hung on the doorway to this building, The Tavern. But it was locked, and I could not get in. A sudden whisper in the distance, the sound of footsteps filled the confines of my inert hearing. Quickly I struggled with the doorknob, pushing just a little harder against the wooden frame. Slowly I worked at the lock, trying to figure out itís secret, its clue. Again the sound came from behind, this time closer, creeping almost, maybe to get me by surprise. The door started to give way, the lock starting to weaken to my pressure, and the sound coming ever closer. A little more pressure on the door, and it gave way, myself crashing to the floor as I threw the door closed, my foot braced against itís surface. A new sound came from inside the door, behind the bar that stood on the back of this four-sided room, a staircase and footsteps. I could not move, could not think of a way out but it could not be the men after me, it could not be the death of my life. And so I laid down on the floor, praying, almost willing myself to become invisible so as to not disturb the residence of this tavern. Now a light filled the opening from behind the bar into this room, making me squint so as to blind me. It was a single candle and I could not see, the light of itís flame making the room fully visible now to reveal a room with many tables, a bar, and a single doorway out. Looking up I found myself looking at a part of my past, a part that I left behind to save them from my sadness. ďJalin!Ē It was my dear childhood friend Abby, the daughter of the tavern owner. ďJalin whatís wrong?Ē Abby said curiously, real concern in her eyes. ďI have not seen you for a long time.Ē Click here to read the rest of this story (133 more lines)
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