Alright, i'm sorry for the slow update. i'm going through a HUGE writer's block, and i'm trying to break through it..so here it is. i tried to make it longer, and not as boring. it will get better, i'm just going through the basics right now :)
but i haven't forgotten my lovely reviewers :)
Pidge, zagato, Narq, kestral101, Skellington, luvtowrite, SabakuNoStupid
Thanks for being so patient, and I'm sorry for the long wait!!
narq- sorry i haven't read your stories in awhile, i plan on it, have been wanting too, i've just been REALLY busy with school and all...ehhchhh i hate school.
Chapter Two-Meeting a Blind
Rebecca and her grandmother, Catherine, drove for what seemed eternity to the young, dazed teenager. Her stomach growled, much against Becca's will, and unfortunately Catherine heard it with a smile across her wrinkled, ancient face.
"Ye hungry?" she asked with kindness in her voice. Becca only nodded her head silently, while she kept her attention on the passing landscape. She couldn't see much, but the glowing stars attached her attention with a bright, luminous crescent moon that lit a small world for Becca to see. The caps of the rolling hills reflected the pattern of the sky's watchful eye and the tall trees kept hidden secrets away from the glowing eye. With an itch, Becca wedged in her seat and then switched her attention to her grandmother.
"I know a small, friendly pub that ye might enjoy. We'll eat there,"
Becca nodded again quietly, but then whispered, "Thank you."
Catherine smiled at her granddaughter, but kept her eyes on the dark road. "So," she began, "Are you excited to live in Wales?"
Becca only shrug her shoulders; she didn't want to talk, or gain into conservation. Right now she wanted peace and quiet. Becca wanted her parents back; she wanted to drift into a different, better world, and she need an escape. The smooth, curvy ride was a nice attempt, yet it wasn't enough to satisfied Becca's needs.
Catherine sighed quietly and felt the pain that she held on tightly grew in her soul. Her daughter's death was just as hard on her, and she understood Becca's grudge to move to new country. Her old eyes on the road, Catherine made a sharp left onto a more rocky and ridge road than before. The turn rocked the cranky vehicle and caused Becca to slam her head against the hard window.
"Sorry," whispered the grandma. Becca only rubbed her head where it stung and a mumbled "It's alright." With a sigh, Becca let her eyes travel to the moon, and to the wild, yet strangely calm land that she would have to learn to call home.
The two teenagers in their new, brilliant, red sports car raced through the thick Welsh woods, laughed as they had to shout over their loud music.
"Are you sure that your dad won't be mad that we took his car?" asked the sandy hair boy. The dark brunette laughed and threw his head back. "Dude, only in England would they catch us. This is Wales. They're still stuck in the sixteenth century. Nobody knows where we are Jack,"
"Yea, I guess you're right," Jack whispered as he stared at the moon and the full forest that swallowed them up.
"Besides," the sandy hair boy began with a grin, "I have the goods," and he lifted a bag of thick greens. Jack's hopes lifted and he forgot his troubles as he let out a loud, immature laugh. "Alright, Alex!"
Alex grinned and turned the music loud as they sped off through the mysterious Welsh lands.
Catherine and Becca pulled into an old town. The streets were cobblestoned, homes were cracked from age, and old lanterns were lit with a fragile greeting to new comers. Becca looked around at the dark shadows. The only light that seemed to come from the town was a little pub. It was small with a few missing shingles, the gutters were something Becca made a note to avoid in case they should land on her. As they walked closer, Becca looked through the dirty, cloudy windows, and saw people of ages enjoying themselves. Some were laughing with drinks in their hand, others sang with the musician that played, and many people enjoyed the food on their plate, which Becca couldn't make out. Catherine opened the heavy, wooden door for Becca and smiled, "Time to meet the townsfolk, dearest." Becca took a deep breath as she stepped into the crowded pub.
The light was dim, as the candles were the only source. A small stage was set up in the back with folk music playing softly. People's conservations hummed in the air gently as Becca's eyes scanned the place slowly. Ages of all sorts filled the pub, yet to Becca's surprise, older men sat around the centered bar and laughed loudly. Like a shadow, Becca followed her grandma around the pub, until they reached a small circle of people which Becca assumed were friends of her grandmother's. Two older men sat on old wooden stool, and a woman near their age sat across from them. All with a brew in hand, the man with darkest hair smiled when he saw Catherine and waved her over. He shouted something in Welsh that Becca couldn't understand, but she followed her grandma's lead.
"John!" Catherine laughed as she gave the man a hug. John slapped Catherine on the back and pulled two more stools over. "Hello Blanch and Brandon." Catherine greeted the others with a wide smile. Blanch had long blond hair that was slowly aging as Becca saw the gray roots took place, but she had clear blue eyes that struck Becca with a such a force, even in the dark room. John was little less serious, with a sloppy smile on his face and messy black hair on his face. Stubbles grew along his chin, and deep wrinkles began to sketch along his face. Brandon was the oldest of the group. His hair was snow white, and his eyes were a smoky gray. But even through his old age, his smile held the most youth, and Becca could have sworn they twinkled.
Catherine pulled Becca closer and introduced her granddaughter. "Fellows, this is my granddaughter, Rebecca. The one I told you about earlier." Becca nodded her head to her grandma's friends, but didn't say a word. All of a sudden she felt like a young, shy five year old who wanted to hide within their grandmother's arms. John was the first to stand up and shook hands with Becca. "Welcome to Wales, lass." Brandon gave Becca a warm smile as she took her seat next to Catherine, but Blanch had still yet nothing to say. "That's Blanch," Catherine whispered to Becca, "She doesn't talk much, but take as no harm. She's just a quiet lady."
"More quiet than you are." Brandon mumbled through his drank.
Catherine laughed and shook her head. "I'll take that as a compliment, Brandon dear."
Brandon laughed quietly to himself and whispered to Becca, "Are ye' a loud one like her?" Becca only shook her head no, and let her red locks cover her face.
"Leave her alone Brandon. Can't you see she's been through a lot?" a new voice replied. Becca looked up and saw Blanch looking at her.
"Well I'm only trying to cheer the poor lassie up." Brandon defended himself. "So how about it, eh? Do you know any of our good Welsh legends?"
Becca , only shook her head no. "Brandon," Catherine warned.
"Ye' haven't?" the man eyes grew large as he set his brew on the wooden table. "Well let me the first to tell you one."
"Oh lord," Catherine began as she rolled her eyes. "Becca, dear, ye' don't have to listen to this crazy man. He's full of nonsense. If he annoys you-just let me know, and I'll be the one to shut his trap." John chuckled "Aye, ye'll be the one for sure."
"No, I'll hear one." Becca quiet voice filled the table as the elders gave her their undivided attention. Brandon took a quick sip of his brew, smacked his lips together, and leaned across the table, with excitement carved into his voice.
"Very well. Now, lass, have you ever heard about the Welsh werewolf?"
"No," whispered Becca.
"Well, he is a fine creature indeed. For he will never hurt the soul of a Welshman, protects Wales for eternity, and is a very, cursed soul. No one really knows where he came from, except he is old as Wales, the country herself. A lonely soul, he travels throughout Wales. One night, his howl can be heard eastern Wales, and on the next night, you'll hear him towards the west. Some say he is a slave to the devil himself, for betraying a loved one, while others say his is punished from God, for worshipping the old Celtic gods and goddesses. No one can really agree, except that he is a cursed creature that burns under the moon."
The two teenage boys sat under a large tree and surrounded by a large pod of green fog. The large moon casted her light upon them as the young men, and ignorantly ignored their surroundings. With the snap of a twig, Jack looked around him quickly, his eyes wide. "Did you hear that?" he asked Alex. The brunette blew smoke out of his nose and laughed loudly. "Dude, the weed is just getting to you. You need to relax." He spread his arms out, but his poor balance caused his to fall and crash is head against the tall oak. Jack sniggered at his wasted friend. He grabbed the blunt from his friend and took a dramatic puff. "You bloody hog," Alex began as he tried to take the blunt back, but fell on his friend. Jack began to laugh, but only found himself choking from the smoke still in his lungs. Both friends, laughed at each other.
Brandon pulled out a pipe from his leather jacket, and lit during his brake from his story. A waiter had already come, and Catherine and Becca had placed their orders.
"Go on," urged Becca as she sipped her warm tea. Brandon's eyes sparkled at the young girl. "Ah, now she talks! See with good stories, always comes with good results." The old man took another puff from his pipe, leaned back, and crossed his arms across his chest as he continued his tale.
"Many came and tried to conquer Wales. Such as the Saxons, and later the English, but none could figure out what creature that haunted the night of Wales. Men, soldiers would disappear throughout the night, without a trace, gone. It wasn't until the nineteenth century, did people begin to realize that this was accursed creature.
"During the ages of when Britain had control over Wales, a British priest was riding through the Welsh countryside at night. He was suppose to check up on our churches, make sure they were still holy, or whatever the man was in charge of," Brandon said with a gruff to his voice.
Another sound in the quiet forest altered Jake as he sat with Alex. "Alex," he warned, "This time I really heard something." He quickly stood up, and squinted into the dark. "Man, for the last time, there is nothing there!" Alex shouted. He tried to grab for Jake to pull him down, but Jake brushed his hand away. "Dude I'm serious. There is something out there!"
Alex rolled his eyes, "Mate, it's probably just a bunny. What do you think it is? The big bad wolf?" Alex laughed at his own joke. "But seriously, man. You need to chill." Both boys were quiet as they listened to the still air. "See?" Alex continued. "Nothing is out there." Jake looked around nervously. The air was clear, except for the green smoke, not a cloud in the sky, and dark shadows of the tress, claimed the land. For a moment, it was silent and calm. Jake sat down again, but his heart still raced. He took the blunt from Alex and was to smoke when he heard a growl. This time, Alex heard the strange sound. Jake looked at Alex, his eyes were wide. Alex dropped his blunt and stood up slowly, but nothing could prepare what they were about to see.
A tall figure stood on its hind legs within the shadows, but the moonlight carved out the creature's features. It was tall, as it reached to the tallest branches of the oak tree, and gold eyes flittered to both of the boys. A snarl rose from its hairy mouth and growled at them. It slammed its front paws on the earth, and howled loudly.
"The English priest was new to Wales. He'd never heard about his strange creature that wanders our lands. He was only a mile away from the parish where he was suppose to stay, when he carriage was attacked from a strange creature. His carriage flipped over, and the priest heard his driver cry out, but then it was silent."
Becca slowly ate her cream soup as she paid deep attention to the speaker. She had always, enjoyed stories, and this one intrigued her. "Did the creature kill him? What is the creature?" she asked in a rushed voice. Catherine smiled to herself at her granddaughter's eagerness.
"He's a werewolf." Blanch began, her soft voice cutting through the air.
"Blanch!" Brandon cried out, "Ye' ruining my story! Let me tell it!"
Blanch sighed, but continued. "When the priest crawled out of the carriage, he saw a monster. A monster that was half man and half wolf, and according to him, the creature has gold eyes."
"Well, hasn't any Welsh person, seen the werewolf themselves?" Becca asked.
John shook his head as he set his brew down on the table. "Nah, he never bothers us. Only the foreign. In fact, I don't think any Welsh as see him."
"Anyway!" Brandon interrupted angrily. "The priest began to run, with the werewolf hot on his trails. The priest claims that angels were sent to him to protect him from the werewolf. Somehow, he made it to the church. He thought the creature was going to break down the door, but he only clawed the door."
"With a message," Blanch whispered as she sipped her brew.
"Aye, with a message," Brandon looked at Blanch with his eyes squinted. "On the door, there was only one word, and it was very clear."
The teen dropped their blunts and ran back to the car. "Go, go!" Jack shouted as Alex fumbled with the keys. The creature had chased them to their car, and trying to flip it over. Alex put the car into gear, and pressed down on the gas pedal. The wheels turned and squealed, but the strong creature flipped the car over. It growled loudly and threw the car against a tree. "Shit!" screamed Alex, as the car rolled over. The windows broke, and both boys were slammed back into their seats from the force. As soon as the car landed back on the ground, Alex slammed on the gas. Dirt spewed from underneath the tires, and the car moved fast out of the woods. "Hurry!" Jake yelled at Alex. He turned around, and saw the creature running on all fours towards the car. "He's catching up on us!"
"I'm going as fast as the bloody car can go, damn it!" Alex argued as he swerved around a tree. The creature jumped onto the small red car and clawed through the roof. John screamed with fear as the claw ripped a hole from the roof of the car. The creature snapped its wolf-like head at Jack, but whispered a deadly word, "Leave," and with a finial growl, the wolf let go and fell back. Neither teen turned their heads around to see what happened to the creature.
"One worded was carved into the door, and it shook the priest terribly." Brandon continued.
"What did it say?" Becca asked. She pushed her finished supper to the side.
"Leave. That's what the message said. Of course, the priest thought the message was from a demon, chasing him away because the he held the word of God." Brandon shook his head, "But then clearly, this creature began attacking others than religious figures. It's didn't care who it was, what the person was, or anything at all. Only that if they were not Welsh, and they stepped into Wales, would this creature pay them a visit."
"Well, how long is this person cursed?" Becca asked.
"And how do ye' know it's a person, eh?" Brandon asked as he took another puff from his pipe. "That's the problem lassie. No one knows much about this creature. All we can do is to assume that this poor soul is cursed for eternity."
Becca shook her head, "No, I can't believe that."
"Well, who told you to believe?"John asked with raised eyebrows, "After all, tis' only a legend."
Catherine reached over and gave her granddaughter a hug, "Tis' just the Welsh spirit in her blood. She knows a good story when she hears one." Becca blushed at the thought. "I'm not saying that I believe," she mumbled, "But if the creature is cursed, there must be a way to put the poor thing to rest."
Brandon yawned and stretched his tired arms. "Think as ye' will, lassie. But some things do last forever."
The warrior ran away from his last sin. His body shook with the fever of anger, his mouth was a drought from the lack of blood, but his heart yearned for something he knew he could never have. He looked up at the clear sky and at the stars. Their freedom mocked his captivity, as they shone brightly. He growled loudly, and laid down on the cool grass. It was tiring, to run every night and to be this creature, to wear this skin, every night. The creature stood up quickly on his hind legs and cried loudly. Whether it was a plea for mercy, or for something else, it echoed strongly throughout the land.