Short Story #1

Clank, clank. Clank, clank. Little Sister's necklace was alive with the reverberation of wood striking wood as she chased Big Sister. Big Mom let them play in the prairies, and there was no immediate danger. Away, shouts Big Sister. This was a simple game, little girls playing. Grass brushes against Little Sister’s tiny legs. She can hear the wind gently whipping the grass with the slightest of sounds, whipping them through generations and generations, through hundreds of years from the past to the present. Constant, quiet, always there.

Catch me, catch me! Big Sister yells. She begins weaving a pattern into the long stalks of green foliage. Following this path, Little Sister runs to Big Sister. A game. It was only a game.

Her tiny legs could only move so fast, but she ran. Little Sister ran. Suddenly, hidden undergrowth caught her foot, tangling her into the grass. Big Sister hurried over, she had to protect Little Sister. Run, run. A wince of pain made its silent approach from Little Sister’s soul to her mouth, gently leaving her lips with the slightest of sounds.

Shhh Little Sister, Big Sister warned, stay silent or Big Mom will worry. Big Mom can hear everything.

The wind was whipping steadily, humming, with more force than before.

The trees in the distance began rustling. Stomp, stomp. Big Sister was worried. This was not the sound of Big Mom. This was not the sound of Big Dad. This was not the sound of any brother or sister, or aunt or uncle, or anyone of memory. Stomp, stomp. This was a new sound. A looming sound. And the wind grew stronger.

A man of great height, five feet and eleven inches, six feet and two inches, seven feet and five inches, walked out of darkness. His body was distorted as the shadows changed his appearance, and the sun began to lighten the darkness. But only to an extent.

Who goes? shouted the Man. It is a young child, no two! What are they doing out here, without the watchful eye of a parent?

Stomp, stomp. He moved closer to Little Sister, to Big Sister.

Stomp, stomp. Big Sister silently searched for help, turning her head slightly left and right. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the mountains, and fear struck Little Sister.

Where shall I take you, so that you may be reunited with your family? The Man's eyes were dark, and looked like they could hold the sea in their hollowness. His eyes were searching for something to fill that emptiness, quickly passing over the landscape. Big Sister began to quiver. The wind grew stronger still.

Here, said the Man, take my hand. He took the hand of Big Sister, and had he held it any tighter it would have disappeared.

Clank, clank. Wood striking wood as the wind took hold of Little Sister's necklace. As they made their way along the intricate path through the foliage, smoke began to appear above the Man's head. A knot, deep in the pit of Big Sister's stomach, grew larger and with such an intensity that she knew. She knew this man held the Darkness. He could open his mouth wide, wider still, as wide as the river valleys and the Darkness would creep into the tiny crevices of the land. It would weave itself into the land of the earth so that it could never be taken back, so that it would always remain. The wind grew stronger, and louder, and became a persistent noise in the ears of Little Sister and Big Sister. Somehow, Big Sister knew Big Mom could hear it too. Big Sister also knew that the Man was impervious to the noise.

Little Sister saw Big Mom. She ran as fast as her legs would allow, her necklace alive with reverberation. Big Sister ran too. She thought that if she ran the Man would leave, if she ran he would know that this was where she belonged, not where he belonged.

The Man looked upon this scene, mother embracing daughters, as the villagers continued their work. Big Sister looked back at the Man; she could feel his gaze upon them. Big Mom must have felt this too, for she looked upon the stranger as well. Soon enough, the entire village looked upon this stranger. They felt the Darkness.

The wind ceased.