Forum: Story Ideas

"Kuri, why don't you go and pick some flowers on the brae?"

Kuri looked at her stepmother curiously. There was a strange atmosphere in their small single room cottage this morning. She couldn't put her finger on it.

Normally her stepmother told her to go to the dock and help with the filleting of the fish. And the shellfish.

Kuri hated that.

The fish were horrible to fillet and their insides smelt horrible. The shellfish were even worse. The shells ripped painfully into the flesh of her hands.

The other girls earned coppers for their days graft, but Kuri never saw any of hers. Even though she often asked for the coppers as they were handed out to the other girls, Canval always shook his head.

"Sorry lass. Your mother said to pay her directly."

When she asked her stepmother, there was always some excuse as to why she couldn't have any of her coins at the end of the week.

Maybe this week would be different.

Still, a day by herself on the hill and not wrist deep in smelly fish guts was not to be argued with.

The sun was pleasantly warm on her back as she sat on the grass and finished the daisy chain that she slipped over her head. She knew where some plants grew that had nice flowers with a pleasing scent. Singing as she skipped and danced through the grass of the meadow, she crested the rise.

Down below, was the object of her journey. She would pick some, have a rest in the sun. Daydream a bit before heading home.

No doubt her stepmother would have a list of chores for her. Though, the time to herself would be worth it. So lost in her own little world, she didn't hear the footsteps behind.

An arm appeared in front and she was dragged back against a man, she opened her mouth to scream and another hand appeared, this one holding a rag, which was put across her nose and mouth. The smell was sharp, bitter on her tongue as she fought futily against the arm around her stomach.

Her vision darkened and her limbs felt so heavy and....

***

There was a bitter taste in her mouth, like she had sucked on a lemon. Her eyes were gritty and she was moving in a strange way. Her head was pounding and opening her eyes made the pain worse.
Ground flashed by beneath her face. Bushes whipped by so close to her nose, that she could smell them. Strange things flashed rhythmically in front of her eyes. Hooves. She had only ever seen a horse from afar.

She was travelling so fast!

Kuri screamed. Tried to kick out with her feet, lash out with her hands, but both were bound. The rag was roughly placed over her mouth and nose again.

***

When she next surfaced, she was being carried up a winding stone staircase the lantern in her abductor's hand making the walls dance and twist. She struggled against his grip, which, after he had placed the lantern on a step, earned her a blow to the side of the head that dazed her.

The man carrying her, was wearing the same clothes as the man who had abducted her on the hill, so she was certain they were the same, stopped at a solid oak door reinforced with iron. He pulled a heavy looking bolt back and pushed the door open. The room beyond was in darkness and the smell coming from within was foul.

He entered, the swinging light showing her a sight she didn't want to see.

Two other young girls were chained up against the wall, both naked. He placed the lantern on the stone floor and dropped her from his shoulder next a spare set of chains hanging loose from rings anchored into the wall.

She screamed and tried to flee.

The man casually slammed her head against the rough stone and darkness enveloped her.

Kuri wasn't sure at first that she had regained consciousness. Opening and shutting her eyes made not the slightest difference to the darkness.

She was naked, the air chill against her skin.

"Help!" Kuri shouted.

"Don't!" whispered one of the other girls frantically in the darkness. "If you shout or make noise, he will come back and beat us all into silence. He doesn't care which of us made the noise. He will beat us all."

In the dark, time became uncertain. She didn't know if it was day or night. Her stomach rumbled. The only sounds in the darkness was the breathing of the other two girls and the scurrying claws and squeaks of rats.

The sound of a bolt sliding back and a faint lantern light pierced blindingly into the darkness. Kuri closed her eyes against the light, opening them slightly. She couldn't see past the light to whoever was holding the lantern, but the gait was similar to the man who had taken her there.

There was a chink of metal.

"No! Please No!" The voice was hoarse, weak, "I'll do anything! Please don't take me up there!"

Kuri opened her eyes a bit more, now that they had adjusted to the weak light better. The other girl's wrists were released and she made an attempt to fight back. It was short lived as he casually slammed her head against the stone wall. His face was disinterested and unmoved at his brutal actions. The girl quietened immediately and dropped to the floor. Kuri had quickly learned that was his favourite move, slamming their heads against the rough cold granite and he used any excuse to do so.

He easily lifted the stunned girl onto his shoulder and carried her from the room, darkness falling once again.

There wasn't much to do, other than wallow in her despair. The other girl never came back.

Hunger and thirst stopped being torment and her wrists had more movement in her shackles, but not enough to wriggle free. She hadn't pissed or shit herself for days and the waking nightmares became indistinguishable from the fitful sleep ones.

The door opened. Light blinded her. He stopped in front of her. The other girl sobbed softly. He paid her no heed as he released Kuri's ankles.

There was a pause and then she was drowning. Her befuddled brain could not comprehend where the water had come from. She coughed, spluttered, struggled for air. The man moved to the doorway, sat the now empty bucket down outside. He came back in and released her wrists.

There was no fight left in her, and she flopped over his shoulder as he walked back out, shutting and bolting the door on the sobs inside. The light was so bright, she was forced to squeeze her eyes tightly shut.

His steps were measured, steady as he climbed the circular stairs in the tower. Kuri was dumped unceremoniously on the floor and she managed to tighten into a foetal position briefly before rope was tied to each of her wrists and she was hoisted onto the tips of her toes.

Her throat was too dry to speak or scream. She hung there, twisting, slightly one way and then the other. Her shoulders screaming into the darkness of her numbness.

A voice was chanting softly.

Kuri cracked her eyes open slightly. Her vision swum as she continued to slightly rotate back and forth. Her captor and the focus of her vengeful thoughts was stood in the corner, near a solid, stout looking door.

The one doing the monotonous mumbling, was considerably older. In his sixties, at least as he read from some old looking tome. His mumbling was somewhat soothing. She felt her eye lids drop.

He stopped and she peered back out between her mostly closed eyes. She watched him pick up a knife and step around the lectern. Fear cursed through her and she experienced a clarity of thought she had not felt since she had arrived here.

The scream that crawled from her throat was barely a croak as he stopped directly in front of her.

Casually, with an almost bored look, he slashed her wrists and she felt warmth run down her arms. Down her torso. Down her legs. Her head fell forward and she looked numbly down at the expanding red on the floor.

A floor that was carefully marked out in chalk circles.

The candles around the room flickered and the man started to chant louder. The blood at her feet was obscured by mist.

Where had that come from...

Her captor at the door looked surprised, even a little scared. The older man was becoming very fervent in his shouting. Kuri felt a cold breeze against her back. A whiff of something foul. Something rotten that she was certain did not emanate from herself. She didn't know how, or why, but she was certain there was someone behind her.

A figure stepped forward to stand beside her. She couldn't distinguish much because the figure was wearing an old, musty smelling cloak.

"Obey me spirit! Become my vassal. Accept my offering and do my biding."

"I am no-one's vassal." The voice was cold, sibilant. "The only bidding I will be doing, will be my own."

Detached, Kuri watched the old man's imperious look turn to fear and she took a small measure of pleasure in that. The man at the door turned, pulled open the heavy oak door and made to flee.

There was a loud 'twang' and something shot past her ear on the opposite side to the cloaked man. Whatever it was, embedded itself in the man's leg and he collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony as he clutched at the feathered shaft.

She would have laughed but she felt so tired, so cold. Another figure walked past her, following the trajectory of the arrow, placing her between the two new arrivals. The second cloaked form ignored the old man who was now shouting incoherently to Kuri's fogged ears, and purposefully walked to her original captor.

The cloaked figure bent over, an arm reached out.

"You cannot break the circles. You cannot disobey me! I summoned you!" shouted the old man at the figure heading for his fellow.

"Where is the fun if you cannot break the rules." said the hood of the figure stood next to her as the second figure grabbed hold of the younger mans ankle, lifted up the leg and turned round.

If there had been anything left within her, it would have been running down her legs to join her blood on the floor.

A face that was more bone skull than flesh looked out from within the hood as it dragged the screaming man towards her. The tenuous frail strand of hope, that was all she had left, snapped and fled her body. She could only watch, resigned to her own impending demise, as the skeletal corpse dragged the now flailing man across the stone flagstones, destroying the carefully chalked out marks and symbols on the floor.

Her abductor was dragged past her still gently twisting form as she dangled from a roof beam.

The old man pulled objects out of his food stained robes and either held them up or threw them at the first new arrival, who was calmly approaching, and who didn't seem bothered in the slightest, though Kuri couldn't be sure since she could only see the back of his, it's, cloak.

An arm raised, the sleeve sliding back to reveal a decaying hand, glimpses of bone visible.

The old man screamed and fought, seemingly without effect as he was grabbed. Her view was somewhat obscured by the cloaked figure.

"You really should not have played with forces beyond your control. But I think you are starting to understand that now, aren't you? Hindsight is such a delightful punishment. What were you after? Untold riches? Eternal life? Youth? Not that it matters as I don't really care." The figure turned round.

The face matched the hand.

The skeletal form dragged the old man into his broken circles and close to Kuri.

The... Thing... held out the mage and an another cloaked arm appeared from behind Kuri and took the begging, snivelling mage and pulled him behind her. She stared into the partly fleshed skull.

"Kill me. Kill me please." Kuri wasn't sure that the thing heard her, her voice was so weak.

The figure opened his cloak, revealing armour beneath. His arms crossed over. Right hand went to its left hip and left hand to right hip. It grasped something on its belt, pulling out two long knives. It didn't appear to have eyes, just a darkness.

Kuri looked into it, beyond terror.

Its hands lashed out, a blur. The act completed before she could even comprehend the movement. Kuri dropped to the floor. Her legs could not hold even her slim weight and she collapsed like a marionette with her strings cut. Her head bounced off the granite floor slabs, her matted hair falling into the pool of her own blood. The blow rattled her loose teeth and yet again she was swamped by darkness. This time she welcomed it with open arms.

Kuri could smell blood. Not surprising since her face was lying in a sticky pool of it. The rope was missing from her wrists. The deep slashes across the inside of her arms felt crusted and scabbed. She couldn't really tell as something was wrapped around her wrists. Her eyes were too blurry to focus.

Pushing down on her hands, wincing at the pain shooting up and down her arms, she sat up. She was alone. Two wooden pillars were behind her. Forming part of an arch. The arch was carved with symbols she could neither read nor understand at this distance. Of the two men, there was no sign.

Next to her , on a dry piece of stone flag, lay a neatly folded cloak, on top of which lay a belt. The belt held two scabbarded knives and in the middle of the looped belt, were a scattered handful of coins. Mostly coppers with a couple of silver.

She looked around the room. The majority of the walls held shelves with old tomes or rolled-up parchment in small compartments. A couple of narrow slits in the walls held glass. She had heard of it. Never seen it before, even though a few houses in her village had it. It looked...evil... not of this world. She shivered. Kuri could see nothing to wear other than the cloak next to her. She dragged the belt to one side, carefully stacking the coins on a clean section of the floor, and noticed a ring on her finger. She held up her hand in front of her face.

It was a deceptively simple form, no jewels, but the metalwork was intricate. It snagged a little when she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the cloak. The ring came off when she pulled at it, but she liked how it looked on her hand and slipped it back on her finger.

The cloak smelled musty. Old. It looked musty. Old. But it was warm. And it had pockets. She slipped the coins into them. The cloak hadn't belonged to any of the... things... that had been in the room. Their cloaks had been longer to fit their considerably taller stature. So she was slightly mystified as to where it had come from. She looked around the room again.

Where had the men, corpse things come from?

Behind where she had been hanging, there were two wooden pillars forming an arch that was out of place in the room.

The belt was heavy and was far too wide to fit around her considerably more slender form. She used the tip of one of the knives to dig out a new hole. The belt and the two knives were heavy on her hips as she approached the wooden gateway.

The surface of the arch was covered in detailed scenes. She peered at them. It appeared to be carved with mostly naked women and animals that made her skin crawl. The animals were either attacking the women or were…

Kuri turned away with a shiver that flowed across her entire skin.

Barefoot, she left the room and descended the circular stairs. The room below was where the old man had lived and slept. The floor below that appeared to be where the servant had slept. The floor below was a kitchen, the floor below that was storage. The next floor below that had been her prison. The wooden door was etched in her memory, for most likely the rest of her life.

The bolt was pulled back, inviting Kuri to open the door and peer inside. She did. The smell was bad, but the room itself was empty.

Where was the other girl?

The iron shackles dangling from the wall were all empty and hanging loose.

The smell was truly terrible and awakened memories she didn't want. She shut the door.

The floor below was another store room, and she rummaged through the boxes. She found a girl's dress. It wasn't hers. It was a little big, but it was better than nothing. There were a pair of sandals as well. Again, a little too big for comfort.

She removed the belt and cloak, pulling the new dress over her head. The dress smelled musty, but nowhere near as bad as the cloak. The colours of the dress were horrible, and she didn't like it, but she could see nothing else that fit her small frame.

The floor below was the ground floor and held a stable.

The horse was still in its pen, eyes wide open in fear. Something had ripped its way into its stomach, its insides were pulled out and surrounded the carcass. The sight didn't disturb her anywhere near as much as it should have done.

Instinctively, her right hand moved to her own stomach. As old as the cloak was, it was well-made of thick material. It was heavy, in a practical way, so she had kept it on over the dress.

Both the cloak and the dress smelled bad, and she was under no illusion that she smelled any better. There was nothing to be done for the horse, so she headed back up the stairs, stopping often to regain strength. A stew had been left in a pot over the kitchen fire, and she ate her fill.

There was some bread and cheese, and she took that for later. Her wrists still hurt, though the old cloth that had been wrapped around them by someone unknown to stem the bleeding when she had been unconscious, seemed to have worked. She lifted a wrist close to have a better look at the bandage. It was a fine close weave, too good a quality for use as a bandage, but what had been done had been done. There was a smell coming from the cloth. A poultice of some form underneath.

If they had wanted to kill her, they could easily have done so, though why they had done what they had done to the horse was something she had no desire to dwell on. And she certainly had no desire to ask them.

Exhausted, and with warm food in her belly, sleep urged her to lie her head down. She threw a blanket she found over her captor's bed and rested her weary head.

Kuri woke with the dawn. She felt better but was still tired.

The tower was quiet. Against her better judgment, she climbed the circular stairs. The top floor was as it had been the previous day, though her red blood had turned a murky brown that flies were crawling about on. The wooden pillars still turned her stomach, a dangerous predicament now that it was full of food. The room looked evil. There was an air about it.

Expensive oil lanterns hung from iron sconces. Kuri took them down and splashed their contents over the book cases, their contents and the two pillars. Striking a spark, she set a blaze going and descended the stairs.

She had a rough memory of the direction she had been taken in and set off in reverse as the tower blazed behind her.

Her bread and cheese had long gone by the time she staggered to the top of the brae overlooking her fishing village. The last few miles had gone by in a haze.

Kuri pushed open the door to their hovel and entered, stopping to look stupidly at the strange faces looking back at her.

"Kuri?" asked a woman Kuri knew by vague sight, rather than by name. "What are you doing here? Your mum said you had been betrothed to some merchant's son in the city. And that you'd probably not be returning."

"She did, did she? Where is she now? And she's not my mother."

"She bought the Oakfell's place on Miller Street."

"With what?"

"Well, your bride price, no doubt."

"No doubt." Kuri agreed, noncommittally.

"Why have you come back? And could your husband," the woman whose name still eluded Kuri, looked down at the ring, "not have given you something a bit better than what looks like his great-grandfather's cloak?"

"It fits a purpose. Sorry for walking in. I didn't know my father had moved." Kuri turned and walked out. She knew vaguely the house mentioned and where it was located. Those who lived there didn't like boisterous children running past. Which was why some of the older boys threw seagull eggs at some of them on a regular basis.

Kuri slowly walked down the street, peering in windows, which contained that mysterious substance called glass. She saw a familiar woman and two boys sitting at a table, eating. She stopped, walked back, climbed the three steps and used the ornate knocker to bang on the door.

Michael opened it, his eyes going wide at the sight of her, as though he had never expected to see her again. That answered an unspoken question she had. She brushed past him and walked into the dining room.

The floors were wood, not mud. She had been worth a lot of money then. Her stepmother looked up, did a double take and then her face paled.

"Kuri..." her stepmother's voice trailed off as she struggled to find something to say.

"Not happy to see me? Nice place you have moved to. Must have cost a lot of money…."

Kuri slowly walked around the room studying the furnishings as Michael came in and for want of anything better to do, sat down.

"What do you want?" Her stepmother's voice was barely a croak.

"Honestly? I don't know. 'Why? ' would have been top of my list, but," Kuri waved a hand encompassing the room "It's all a bit obvious now that I look."

Her two stepbrothers were eating as they watched her out of the corner of their eyes. Kuri casually continued her exploration of the room.

"How are you here?"

"Yes, I gather the deal was rather, explicit, about the length of my continued existence," she thought back to the other girls. "It appeared that I wasn't the only one with appallingly bad future prospects and family members." Kuri came to a stop behind the two brothers, their seated forms mostly hiding her from their mother. She slipped her hands beneath her cloak, sought out and found the twin hilts.

"You're not wanted here." Her stepmother's voice was cold, angry as she desperately tried to regain control of the situation, as her worst fears had come true and was currently walking around in front of her.

"That, I now understand." Kuri agreed.

"Then go."

"Oh no. There must be payment. A reckoning."

"This is my house. Go, or I'll have you dragged from it."

"Such indignant righteousness." Kuri pondered why she was here, what had been the point. Even as she thought it, her stepmother's callousness enraged her. There had only really been one outcome. She was just delaying it. Kuri pulled both long daggers out and swiftly rested the blades against the throats of the two brothers. Kuri pulled herself forward, against the resistance to the blades as she swept her hands outwards. The hilts vibrated in her clenched fingers and against her palms as the blades bit deep.

Her stepmother screamed as both boys gurgled as their hands darted to their sliced throats, blood running through their fingers, down their arms.

"MY BOYS!"

"Oops."

Her stepmother launched herself across the table, scrabbling amongst the cutlery and dishes to reach her sons.

"My boys!" she wailed as she reached a hand to each, trying to stem the blood loss through their fingers with her own flesh as they continued to gurgle in terror through the blood pouring into their throats.

"You…" Any further screamed words from her stepmother were stopped by the blade Kuri slammed into her neck. There was a moment of pure hate in her stepmother's eyes.

Kuri pulled the blade back out and stepped back as the older woman collapsed onto the table and thrashed about, sending all the tableware crashing onto the floor. Kuri took another step back and dispassionately watched the convulsions of all three slowly subside and then stop.

She poked the three corpses with the lip of her right-hand blade. None of the bodies responded to the tip breaking skin.

"Oh well."

She looked around the room. There was nothing she wanted. She wanted no part of her previous life. She had no interest in exploring the rest of the house, nor in finding out when her father returned with the fishing fleet. He would never forgive her for what she had done.

The room had a strong smell of iron, a slow tap, tap, tap as blood dripped off the table top onto the wooden floor below. There was no point in staying; the village would not approve of her actions. Kuri wiped her blades clean on the backs of her stepbrothers before she turned from the table and headed back outside, not even bothering to shut the door behind her.

Kuri pulled her cloak hood up over her head and headed down the street to the outskirts of the village.