Revenge

He awoke in a cooled swept; the images that ran through his mind were horrifying. He shucked with anguish and disgust. When he looked to his side and saw that his wife, Vanessa, slept on and knew nothing of his discomfort, he was glad. For he did not need to burden her with his past.

          He rose from the bed, put on his birchers and began his day. He knew it to be a long and trying day and he let Vanessa sleep on. ‘What point is there in waking her early’ he thought to himself. The sun began to rise as he stepped from the house and in to the fields, he grabbed his tools and worked away his demons. 

           Has he worked in plowing the fields because the growing season had come round once again he saw and heard his past, screams of horror, the pleads for mercy and help. His whole body shucked, for his site was cleared of all things and he saw into the past. Her cries were high and shrilled and her pleads were so loud that even gods of the land could hear her. But there was no mercy and her pleads went unnoticed

           When he awoke from his past he saw that he was lying in his bed. Vanessa set beside him wiping away the sweat from his brow.

She asked, “What happen to you in the fields?” her eyes were filled with concern for him and his health.

“I believe it to be my past errors hunting me,” he said in a soft whisper answering her question.

“What kind of errors are these that you pass out in the mids’ of a field,” Vanessa asked curious of her husband past.

Shido did not answer his wife and Vanessa saw that he did not pursue the subject. The days work was not half finish so he continued on. In the shadows someone or even something lurked un-none to Shido. This being watched every move Shido made, watched every moment in his life.

Revenge was a b***h.

 

 

Marcus sat at the king’s table eating, drinking and not quite merry. It seemed he was having the same problem as his friend Shido. ‘When did this life become nothing like the dream I thought it to be,’ Marcus thought, ‘why was it that the king’s fine women and wines, a great combination, was not good enough any more?’ He looked over to his friends and saw has women wantonly throw themselves at the army men and those who were forced in to kisses.

And he remembered what happened merely ten years ago this day in the city that was named ‘Fidelidad’ and the people that lived in this city were truly faithful, to only the king. There had been word that the enemy from the east had been taking up hiding in the city of Fidelidad. This could have been true because Fidelidad rested on the eastern boarder of the expanding kingdom, but sadly it was not even close to the truth. The king forgetting the city’s past faithfulness sent-armed men to destroy the city.

The things they did in their drunken state, women that had been scared, left to burn in the city and the men that fought and died for their king, wives and children. He had been lucky to have survived. But there had been one girl that had fought the hardest because she was in love.

There was a loud bang and Marcus was thrown from the past, the doors were thrown open to let enter the almighty King Peligroso and he shrilly looked very dangerous, his son walked in beside him.

“Those who here that have been with me from the beginning, when I was merely a boy, know what happen ten years ago this day.” The king spoke his voice bouncing of the walls, “We were mistaking and wrong in our ways and now we grieve for the people of Fidelidad.”

“Take your wines up my men and let us make toast to true strength and courage,” the king sighed the past weighing on his heart, “of the souls, of Fidelidad.”

King Peligroso exited the royal dining room his guards close behind. They climbed their way up the steps of the castle and enter the balcony were the king would address the people. Has the king was announced a crowd of people cried out with excitement. Some stayed motionless Marcus noted, their faces stayed hidden by their cloaks.       

   Revenge is sweet when one’s blade is colored with the crimson flow of blood.

 

 

“Isabelle,” Carolina whispered against her lover’s lips. The kiss was deepening as Isabelle gasps and Carolina slips her tongue into her lover’s mouth.      

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Isabelle said, braking the kiss. Carolina frowned she did not see any reason for them to stop.

“You should be getting ready,” Isabelle said snuggling into Carolina neck, “for harvest season.” Carolina smiled Isabelle was always think about their duty and not the enjoyment of life.

“Well,” Carolina said leaning down and kissing Isabelle, “this is how I like to get ready for the harvest of Fidelidad.”

A roar of outrage was heard through out the whole room knocking Carolina out of her thoughts. She looked up just as the leader of the rebels group entered. After ten years their new king had just acknowledged the murder of over hundred thousand people of Fidelidad. They were collected in a salon on the outskirts of the kingdom’s capital city located in a small village; they were survivors of Fidelidad.

Down in the salon below the people heard the raucous, a woman by the name Elizabeth just continued to served drinks, as every one else was looking up frighten wondering if the roof would collapse. Elizabeth was a lovely girl who had long flowing dirty blond hair; her eyes sparkled like the beautiful sea tinted with a soft green. In the candlelight her creamy skin color glowed like gold. She wore a tight corset that busted he busty-a, with a long flowing skirt. Elizabeth quickly walked back to the bar dodging groping hands.

“You know your silent friend is up there,” an old ruff looking woman with a patch over her eye and who also worked behind the bar, said to Elizabeth. “He looked party scorny.”

Elizabeth only smiled she had seen her silent scorny friend take down guys twice her size. Elizabeth train of thought was cut short when she was called over to a table of men, she groaned.

“What do you guys want?” Elizabeth said frowning.

“You can come sit on my lap and give me a kiss,” one of the men said and the whole group began to laugh.

“Or maybe you can get on your knees and give Johnny a little kiss,” another man said and pulled her down onto her knees. Carolina had been walking down stairway leaving the idiots up stairs because they were becoming drunk. She had not expected to see Elizabeth being forced on her knees by men two times her size. The flash of anger that cursed throw her veins, her whole body, was so over powering. She stepped in the candlelit room and tightly grabbed the men’s hand that was holding Liz. Crushing his wrist in her hold. The man screamed and all grow silent, no one dare speak.

“Who the hell do you think you are,” one of the men who were sitting around the table said. Carolina simply looked up at him and said in a commanding voice, “She is mine, do not touch her.” She let go of the man wrist, taking Liz hand she walked to the bar, climbing on top of the counter and announcing, “Elizabeth of the house of Normandy is under my protection, touch her in a threatening way, I WILL KILL YOU!”

Sometimes revenge is forgotten because the heart is weaken by the pain and anguish of the past not forgotten.                                  

 

Author's Note

Okay crap that I wrote when i was 12 tell me what you think

Reviews

[MandarinOranges]

first off, it's not crap. it does need a little polishing, like grammar and spelling, but other than that, it's a good story. do you plan to add more to it? i could see this going quite a bit further. one of my favorite genres is historical fiction, so thanks for the good read. keep it up!