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Day two of the daily posting. It's going to get crazy in this one. I spent a lot of time on this chunk of chapters so I hope you like it. As in the earlier sections, this chapter is full of love, aspirations and inspiring people. And sunshine. And rainbows. Yup. There is more of that here.8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcDqV514Fab
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘₊ ⊹ Soul 𓉸 Rejected ⊹ ₊⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk55d1mLx9F
Oftentimes, life has a way of making it seem as though there is only one choice, even when the paths are many. Even when sticking to one path isn't in the rules.
Despite the danger, Julian chased the fading torchlight, weaving between the densely packed labyrinth of trees.
He pushed through a denser wall of trepidation. Every inch of him screamed to turn away and run. He hated that feeling. He was used to running. Always running.
Not this time.
The fear he felt staring at that woman. The way her gaze cut through him like a tissue. He felt so small. Helpless. He was used to feeling helpless but this was different. It wasn't like school. It wasn't just a black eye and hanging his head low for a couple weeks. It was like the only thing between him and death was a few leaves and a whole lot of luck.
This time he would press on. Not run away, but toward.
Despite fear. Despite the rage that grew from that fear. His pace quickened through the trees, towards death.
He needed to do something. He had to help those men, somehow. No more hiding.
The glow grew as trees passed Julian's vision. Heat boiled in his veins and to him, it felt like he was outside himself pushing his body forward from over his own shoulder.
Approaching the group, he could see they had gathered under a large oak tree. Their long shadows danced around Julian as he snuck closer for a better look. The ominous light of the torches that chased him through the forest laid to rest in a pile, combining their flames in a small pile of sticks quickly thrown together in the center of the group.
"Ain't we got enough wood, Lill?" A tall lanky man in well-worn overalls protested by the fire to the woman from earlier. She glared at him as though to say something. But if words came out, Julian couldn't hear it from that distance or even tell if her mouth moved under the bandana that masked the bottom half of her face.
"Eehh, Miss Laudendale." He corrected himself. Apparently 'Lill' was an inappropriate moniker. "Fine. I'll get s'more." With that, the man lumbered into the forest alone, looking for fuel for the fire. The Bandana woman, Miss Laudendale, busied herself. She knelt and started poking the fire with a stick and her back to Julian.
Julian crept closer, careful to stay low and in the shadows, avoiding making any sound. Across from the fire and behind the woman, the dogs stirred. The three hounds panted until one's ears perked in Julian's direction. He froze but it was too late.
Woof.
It started with uncertainty, but quickly, the other dogs joined in.
Woof, woof, woof!
They all barked directly at Julian, lurching toward him, straining the chains that bound them to their oak tree.
"Will you shut them mutts up?!" Another man's voice yelled from behind a cluster of trees, obscuring its source from Julian. "I'm trying' to sleep a little, darnit!"
"They 'eard something." A new, brighter sounding voice cracked in protest. However, from the perspective of where the voices came from, it's as if the dogs started lunging toward the center of camp and Miss Laudendale.
"It's a squirrel or opossum or some'n." The first voice responded with growing exasperation. "I don't give a darn if it's the got-damned Wen-dingo. Clint, shut them the hell up!"
Julian stayed frozen, crouched in flickering shadows. A stout man that must have been Clint in a dirty, loose white linen shirt and sturdy brown pants partially emerged from behind the tree that restrained the dogs.
He squinted, peering out into the door with halfhearted effort before his eyebrow lifted and he shuffled his feet in resignation. He reached into the deep pockets of his too-wide pants, and removed a saw-cut cow bone, probably a femur. He looked at it only a moment, noticing two of the dogs were already focused on him.
They were only slightly smaller than the first dog with fur of a lighter shade of brown comparatively. They were a breed that Julian didn't recognize and obviously beefier than the average house pet.
"Hush, now, girls." Clint said before tossing the bone between the two dogs. But the first dog refused to tear his eyes away. He stared at Julian through the darkness, certain of his presence. Somehow, this beast still paled in comparison to stare from The Bandana.
"C'mon, Major. It's nothin'." Clint resigned behind the tree again, leaving the dogs to their treat. After a few more seconds, a high pitch whistle signaled from camp, causing the lead dog's ears to perk a little. Finally, Major sniffed the air and decided not to miss out on the bone. He turn around to the other two dogs sharing the bone and wedged himself between them and plopped down to take over all the chewing.
Julian let out a silent exhale. Of course these people let their guard down. One can't account for angsty teens falling from the sky. Julian could only presume there simply shouldn't be anyone else out in this forest at this time of night. With everyone in the camp distracted or sleeping, he crept a little closer to the camp, sticking to the shadows and bushes.
As more people came into view, he took an inventory of the threats before him.
First and closest to him, Julian could barely see the edge of an older man sat with his back to him and against a thick oak. He was the furthest from others, likely meant to be on guard for wildlife or something. His shotgun was propped against the same tree trunk towards the light of the fire.
Next and in the center of the camp was Miss Laundendale, The Bandana, stoking the fire with an unseen object and humming something to herself. She was between Julian and the dogs, with her back to him.
On the other side of their camp, near the outskirts of the camp were the three dogs, tied to a tree and occupied by the bone. Clint was likely sitting behind the cluster of pines nearby to the dog tree, but Julian could only see the other man complaining from the noise. He was laying at the foot a tree with a cowboy hat over his face.
Julian dared to inch a little closer, straining his neck to see where the captive men were. He could finally see Clint, getting comfortable near the cowboy hatted man, claiming his own tree.
That's when Julian could see the first captive. A dark skinned man, caked in drying mud near Clint and bound to the base of a particularly uncomfortable looking pine. Julian didn't want to think about the rough texture of the pine back against his bare back. He felt his blood boiling again, but did that mean the other two escaped?
They should be so lucky. The hope was snuffed out as the other two came into view. Two dark skinned men bound by ropes on their wrists to a sturdy oak branch above them. They were bound in a way that kept their arms above their heads and tight enough to keep them standing on the tips of their toes. Tight gags covered their mouths. Rough ropes bit into the flesh of their wrists. And a cold breeze blew through their mud-soaked bodies, too far from the small fire to enjoy its reprieve.
There was an intangible rage that grew from this sight. Julian could hear his heart beating in his ears. He could imagine the unspeakable violence he would commit to the individuals responsible for the scene before him. As he did, those individuals began to bicker again.
"I 'on't see why I gotta babysit Reggie. There's room on that branch for a third."
"I told you already. Branch can't take three. It ain't space. It's weight. Low branches like that ain't got the strength. One time we ha-"
The Bandana spoke up, with an undue level of kindness in her tone. "Would you boys be silent?" It was almost more unsettling to hear how pleasant her voice was.
Just then, a droning sound came from the center of camp and Julian moved a little closer than he probably should. His ears might've deceived him, so he carefully crawled closer to the light of the fire. He could almost feel its dwindling heat warm his frigid skin when the sound became discernibly clear.
It was a singing.
It was Miss Laudendale singing.
"Niiiight wood. Cooold trees. Guide me o'er the leeaaves." Her tone was soft and lulling as she dragged out the syllables. She slowly spun with a flourish, finally revealing her full face. At some point, she pulled down her bandana to hang off her neck. A long jagged scar ran from the corner of her mouth halfway to her ear. Its smooth surface glistened from the glow of the flames at her feet. She sang to the fire as she fished out the object she was playing with earlier.
It was a long hunting knife. The tip glowed orange as she lifted and danced with it on the forest stage.
"Hooold me. Looove me. Nobody has to seeee." She drew closer to the two men bound under the oak tree. She brandished the knife, waving it at them to the sway of the notes she sang.
"If I cooould. If I should!" She cut the note short for emphasis and brought the hot blade to one of the men's neck. "Night wood, guide me please."
She pulled the knife away and addressed her audience. The melody of the song was gone. Even the pleasantry of her tone was deserted.
"Thieves. Runners." She spun slowly, meeting the eyes of all in attendance before snapping to the man bound near Clint. Leading with the blade in a fencing pose, she rushed towards Reggie, passing between the fire and the dogs. Julian stood up, just a little over the bush he called shelter to see what she was doing.
"Reggie, worst of all. How many times we've talk to you?"
"Yah! No more chances, boys. Ya hang tonight!" Clint shouted before Miss Laudendale snapped on him.
"No! Tonight is a night a' learnin'." She eyed the tip of the knife more performative than anything else. Her voice was soft and sultry though somehow as cold as steel. "I'ma get this here blade nice and hot."
She froze her head but snapped her eyes to one of the men bound at the wrist to the tree branch. She shuffled a strange, yet nimble side-step past the dogs once more and up to the dangling men.
"I'm taking these." With a sudden and firm grip, she grabbed the captive man by the crotch.
Panic grabbed him as well.
He thrashed and squirmed in an attempt to escape her unforgiving grip. All he could do was shake the branch and scream through his gag, earning nothing but falling leaves.
"No, no, hush now, boy. Reggie was the one who got you into this mess, not me." She watched him struggle in her hand, wrinkling her scar in a horrific grin.
"Welp." The old man closest to Julian slapped both knees and made a great effort to stand up again with noisy grunts and groans. He started into the darkness of the wilderness tossing a flimsy excuse behind him. "I gotta piss."
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and then Add to home screen.