If you enjoyed the last adventure, The Giggle Collector, featuring Cana Fadruthiya, you'll enjoy this story as it includes a new cast of characters with some old, and some unknown. Enjoy!
As they left the house, she could feel the stones and glass in the yard as she was raked over the ground. She cried, kicked and screamed for help, but no one was there, no one in the world. And then they stopped, the strangers were faced by another stranger, and he spoke to them in a foreign tongue. It was always the same, a language like the snakes use. And they'd converse for a few moments, deliberating, and I always ended the same, the new stranger would always win, and it'd approach the fallen child, and reach down to her. As its hand approached her, everything would grow black, and it was the fear of the darkness which always brought Nadya out of her sleep, screaming like a soul being dragged to Hell.
Nadya is a very dark brown young woman, she has long dark hair which isn't kept up well. Her feet are encrusted with dead skin, and her toenails are almost ingrown. Her physique is slim, and attractive, though her teeth are yellowed and decaying. Her head has a tapered quality to the chin, and her nose is small, slightly round, but not to the point of being ugly. It's just right.
No one comes into Nadya's room because they know she has night terrors, they've gotten used to it enough to sleep through her screaming And in the morning, they'll beat her within an inch of her life before they send her out to do errands. And then come home and clean the house. Such was the life, since she was nine years old, of this Haitian slave.
The ship cam in the night, and docked in Port Au Prince, four men left the boat secured in the dock. They wore black suits, and velour capes of dsrk brown. They roomed in a nearby inn before they made their way into the city of Hinche. The men were quiet, and they wore dark masks on their faces. Their appearance made the innkeeper nervous, but after seeing the gold that they'd pay with, threw caution to the wind. The men arrived there at three in the morning, and they slept in separate rooms until five o'clock in the morning two days later. They had requested that they'd not be disturbed unless there were a riot, or an insurrection or a coup.
They departed an hour after they woke, and made their way to a house in Petionville where they met and were driven up north, by a young man in a jeep. The young man felt oddly alone in the jeep, as no one spoke, he didn't even hear his passengers breathing in and out. He'd often look in the mirror to make certain he wasn't transporting ghosts. It wasn't uncommon for travellers to be nothing more than spirits come to take away people, and often it meant ruin. The driver wiped a bit sweat from his dark cheek, and then brought his eyes back to the road.
“Why are you going to Hinche?” he asked in French. There was no response. “I guess you aren't talkative.”
Nadya screamed as the switch flew across her thighs, causing another of her many welts to appear on her form. The searing pain was the last remnant of the hits she'd receive for the moment. The woman giving her the lashing was putting the stick back on the floor by the door. She was a light yellowish woman with black hair falling down her back. She wore a green skirt and top, quite ragged, but nonetheless lovely. She looked at Nadya with contempt as she stood over the quivering teenager. Nadya looked at the woman in a whimpering silence, her eyes large with fear and agitation, her lips curled in fright and sorrow and pain, and her teeth, yellowed and decaying. She was a carrier of ugly traits in a lovely form, and this sight more than anything angered her. For this, she picked up the switch again and swung it hard, cracking it across the girl's left cheek, the skin broke, and a red line formed across the side of Nadya's face.
“Now,” she said as she got ready to leave the room, “fetch the water.”
Fetching the water was not a simple task. You first had to travel a good two or three kilometers on foot just to get to the water. Then you had to wait in line while everyone got their own; then you had to march the two or three kilometers back to the town you were from. Making sure not to spill any of it. God knows the trouble one would be in if they spilt the water, or the bucket broke en route to the home. Nadya went through all the infernal possibilities of mistakes on the way back to the home. Her bucket broke once, and another time her bucket was stolen by two brutish children. Nadya still had the scars from the five year old incident. Now of course she was seventeen, and unlike the seventeen year olds in the family which she served, she had to work, unpaid by force, for the D'Leone family.
Nadya slipped on her ragged purple skirt and a purple top and went to the cellar to get the two buckets. They were large, plastic, and could hold ten gallons each. Nadya knelt to the floor and then raised her arms holding the two heavy buckets as she hauled them up the stairs. She left the house and travelled south to a little town a few miles away. As she made her way down the street, a car came up the street, it was a white car, old, little, and inside were four men. They all stared forward like statues, undisturbed by anything around them. It stopped in front of the D'Leone house and the men exited the car.
The men were tall, thin, dressed in dark clothes, they wore dark capes that reached their ankles, and they wore dark bandannas over their mouths and noses. Their eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and they wore black panama hats with white bands around the body. One of the men bent forward, and spoke to the driver, the driver nodded, and proceeded to drive off. The men drew many stares from the people around the street who saw them come out. Everyone had the same feeling of dread when they looked at them. Even at three hundred feet away, Nadya had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach; it made her more anxious to get on down the road to the next town. As she was disappearing down the hill, one of the men looked at her for a brief moment and locked her face in his mind. He turned to make his way up the steps of the D'Leone residence, as the matriarch answered the door. She was the same woman who had beat Nadya.
Nadya made her way down the old road, stones littered the ground, glass sometimes, but mostly stones made up the bulk of debris on the old road. It was hot, so hot her bare feet stung on the surface of the stones. It was a terrible feeling for her. And the heat wasn't helping the fresh wound on her cheek. It still dripped blood, though it had congealed slightly. It almost looked beautiful on her face, after all, as her father had said before he died, 'Imperfections are beautiful,' in essence, the flaws are what make the beauty of the body.
Nadya's family was full of imperfections, Nadya's father was an influential, wealthy man. He was able to keep the family together and well funded. The mother was an artist, with an inclination toward the darker side of expression. The attic of their old house would frequently be filled with paintings of old and young people some dead, some alive, all in odd positions. Nadya remembered looking at the pictures and wondering why her mother'd draw them. Her sisters were quite insane. Often going off on their own just to hurt each other. They were slim young women, older than Nadya, with long black hair cascading down their backs. They walked with an unnatural grace, and never spoke to those outside of their family. They were known as the Silent Twins among some of the people of Hinche. It was often the general idea for the downfall of the family, that the children were often to blame. It was solidified even more into the public mind that the family was evil when the twin sisters left Nadya, then twelve years old, and moved to Santo Domingo, leaving their sister to be persecuted through no fault of her own.
Nadya marched down the road, she could see the town coming up ahead, it was a good five thousand metres off still, but she was closing the gap with ease. She made her way into the town ten minutes later. Her bare feet were hurting from the long trek, and her unbrushed teeth stank badly. She kept walking down to the middle of the road until she finally reached the watering hole.
It was a little way station where water waspulled from a well, via a pump,and deposited in the huge buckets. Nadya rested her feet and legs while she waited for the lin of other slaves to shorten. It was hours, and Nadya knew what would happen when she got back. She'd get smacked, whipped, and scorned. And then she'd clean the house. When the crowd began to disippate, Nadya made her way to one of the spouts and turned the water on. She filled both buckets, and took a gulp of water for herself before she left. She turned and made her way back to the road leading out of the town. Back to Hinche.
“I have come to buy one of your oldest slaves,” the man sittign in the chair said as he looked around the room. His pale skin had a healthy pink glow to it, and his brown hair was tied in a ponytail. His gloved fingertips were steepled and he peered over them. His teeth were white and sharp. “Now, Madame D'Leone, I have been waiting here for quite some time. I am afraid that if you are not able to present me with a suitable individual to fulfill my needs, that you will have to be passed over for the pick.”
“No,” Madame D'Leone said as she lookked around the room for something, “I have a slave you'll like, his name is Caglion, he--”
“I am not interested in little boys or little girls Madame,” the man said as he rose to his feet. “I an my associates have been here for four hours already. We are on our way to Verrettes.”
“No!” D'Leone shouted as she grabbed the visitor's arm. He looked at her, and held his free hand up to stop the two accomplices who were approaching her with daggers from their belts.
“Madame D'Leone, I would not wnt you to die this evening.”
“Give me one more minute.”
“Fine,” he said as he snatched his arm away and sat back in the chair. Madame D'Leone went into the backyard. It was at that moment the visitor heard a sloshing sound, and he looked out and saw Nadya. He rose to his feet and pointed at the girl through the window. “Her,”
Madame D'Leone walked into the room and saw the visitor standing. “Is something wrong?” She asked. “I've brouhgt another slave for you sir.” She presented him with a fourteen year old girl. He took one look at the child and turned his head.
“No thank you my dear, I'd like to see the young lady carrying the water.”
“Nadya?”
“Is that her name”
“Yes, her name is Nadya, Nadya Luzarienne.”
“Of the Luzarienne family of Santo Domingo?”
“Yes.”
“Why is she here?”
“Her family disowned her.”
“Ah,” the man touched his lip with his finger as he looked out at the young woman. “Fetsh her,”
Nadya heard the sharp voice of the mistress as she ordered her into the house. Nadya quickly made her way to the front door and entered to see the three visitors. The middle man stepped forward, bent to get to her level, and smiled.
“Your name is?”
“Nadya Luzarienne,”
“My you have a lovely smile.” he said.
“Who are you?”
“I am Donovan Wrathe.” the man smiled. He kept his eyes focused on the girl's eyes, keeping hers on him. Then one of his fingertips glided along her belly. It was quick and if you blinked, you'd have missed it; the reaction however was quite evident as Nadya grabbed her belly, curled forward and squealed loudly. Donovan put his finger on her chin and brought the grinning girl's face up.
“How old are you?”
“I'll be eighteen later today...”
“I have a present for your birthday my dear,” he smiled. “I will take you away from here.”
“You're lying.” Donovan flicked his finger on her belly again.
“I have no need for lies.” He smiled. “Do you wish to leave this place?”
“Yes of course,”
“Then I will bring you away.” He stood up, “Madame, I wish to purchase your slave.”
Restevac
M.C. Laphar
The house was a small one, but nonetheless a happy one. It was two floors, with small windows, and two doors, one in the front and the other on the side, to the left. Five people lived in the house. A father, mother, and three girls. The mother and father died one day, and left the three girls alone. Then one by one, the sisters died. Their bodies were taken away by total strangers. And then as the last of them began to thin, began to tremble, and lower to the floor of the house, the strangers came and took her by the hand, dragging her across the floor, splinters digging in her back, blood trailing behind her, to the door.M.C. Laphar
As they left the house, she could feel the stones and glass in the yard as she was raked over the ground. She cried, kicked and screamed for help, but no one was there, no one in the world. And then they stopped, the strangers were faced by another stranger, and he spoke to them in a foreign tongue. It was always the same, a language like the snakes use. And they'd converse for a few moments, deliberating, and I always ended the same, the new stranger would always win, and it'd approach the fallen child, and reach down to her. As its hand approached her, everything would grow black, and it was the fear of the darkness which always brought Nadya out of her sleep, screaming like a soul being dragged to Hell.
Nadya is a very dark brown young woman, she has long dark hair which isn't kept up well. Her feet are encrusted with dead skin, and her toenails are almost ingrown. Her physique is slim, and attractive, though her teeth are yellowed and decaying. Her head has a tapered quality to the chin, and her nose is small, slightly round, but not to the point of being ugly. It's just right.
No one comes into Nadya's room because they know she has night terrors, they've gotten used to it enough to sleep through her screaming And in the morning, they'll beat her within an inch of her life before they send her out to do errands. And then come home and clean the house. Such was the life, since she was nine years old, of this Haitian slave.
The ship cam in the night, and docked in Port Au Prince, four men left the boat secured in the dock. They wore black suits, and velour capes of dsrk brown. They roomed in a nearby inn before they made their way into the city of Hinche. The men were quiet, and they wore dark masks on their faces. Their appearance made the innkeeper nervous, but after seeing the gold that they'd pay with, threw caution to the wind. The men arrived there at three in the morning, and they slept in separate rooms until five o'clock in the morning two days later. They had requested that they'd not be disturbed unless there were a riot, or an insurrection or a coup.
They departed an hour after they woke, and made their way to a house in Petionville where they met and were driven up north, by a young man in a jeep. The young man felt oddly alone in the jeep, as no one spoke, he didn't even hear his passengers breathing in and out. He'd often look in the mirror to make certain he wasn't transporting ghosts. It wasn't uncommon for travellers to be nothing more than spirits come to take away people, and often it meant ruin. The driver wiped a bit sweat from his dark cheek, and then brought his eyes back to the road.
“Why are you going to Hinche?” he asked in French. There was no response. “I guess you aren't talkative.”
Nadya screamed as the switch flew across her thighs, causing another of her many welts to appear on her form. The searing pain was the last remnant of the hits she'd receive for the moment. The woman giving her the lashing was putting the stick back on the floor by the door. She was a light yellowish woman with black hair falling down her back. She wore a green skirt and top, quite ragged, but nonetheless lovely. She looked at Nadya with contempt as she stood over the quivering teenager. Nadya looked at the woman in a whimpering silence, her eyes large with fear and agitation, her lips curled in fright and sorrow and pain, and her teeth, yellowed and decaying. She was a carrier of ugly traits in a lovely form, and this sight more than anything angered her. For this, she picked up the switch again and swung it hard, cracking it across the girl's left cheek, the skin broke, and a red line formed across the side of Nadya's face.
“Now,” she said as she got ready to leave the room, “fetch the water.”
Fetching the water was not a simple task. You first had to travel a good two or three kilometers on foot just to get to the water. Then you had to wait in line while everyone got their own; then you had to march the two or three kilometers back to the town you were from. Making sure not to spill any of it. God knows the trouble one would be in if they spilt the water, or the bucket broke en route to the home. Nadya went through all the infernal possibilities of mistakes on the way back to the home. Her bucket broke once, and another time her bucket was stolen by two brutish children. Nadya still had the scars from the five year old incident. Now of course she was seventeen, and unlike the seventeen year olds in the family which she served, she had to work, unpaid by force, for the D'Leone family.
Nadya slipped on her ragged purple skirt and a purple top and went to the cellar to get the two buckets. They were large, plastic, and could hold ten gallons each. Nadya knelt to the floor and then raised her arms holding the two heavy buckets as she hauled them up the stairs. She left the house and travelled south to a little town a few miles away. As she made her way down the street, a car came up the street, it was a white car, old, little, and inside were four men. They all stared forward like statues, undisturbed by anything around them. It stopped in front of the D'Leone house and the men exited the car.
The men were tall, thin, dressed in dark clothes, they wore dark capes that reached their ankles, and they wore dark bandannas over their mouths and noses. Their eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and they wore black panama hats with white bands around the body. One of the men bent forward, and spoke to the driver, the driver nodded, and proceeded to drive off. The men drew many stares from the people around the street who saw them come out. Everyone had the same feeling of dread when they looked at them. Even at three hundred feet away, Nadya had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach; it made her more anxious to get on down the road to the next town. As she was disappearing down the hill, one of the men looked at her for a brief moment and locked her face in his mind. He turned to make his way up the steps of the D'Leone residence, as the matriarch answered the door. She was the same woman who had beat Nadya.
Nadya made her way down the old road, stones littered the ground, glass sometimes, but mostly stones made up the bulk of debris on the old road. It was hot, so hot her bare feet stung on the surface of the stones. It was a terrible feeling for her. And the heat wasn't helping the fresh wound on her cheek. It still dripped blood, though it had congealed slightly. It almost looked beautiful on her face, after all, as her father had said before he died, 'Imperfections are beautiful,' in essence, the flaws are what make the beauty of the body.
Nadya's family was full of imperfections, Nadya's father was an influential, wealthy man. He was able to keep the family together and well funded. The mother was an artist, with an inclination toward the darker side of expression. The attic of their old house would frequently be filled with paintings of old and young people some dead, some alive, all in odd positions. Nadya remembered looking at the pictures and wondering why her mother'd draw them. Her sisters were quite insane. Often going off on their own just to hurt each other. They were slim young women, older than Nadya, with long black hair cascading down their backs. They walked with an unnatural grace, and never spoke to those outside of their family. They were known as the Silent Twins among some of the people of Hinche. It was often the general idea for the downfall of the family, that the children were often to blame. It was solidified even more into the public mind that the family was evil when the twin sisters left Nadya, then twelve years old, and moved to Santo Domingo, leaving their sister to be persecuted through no fault of her own.
Nadya marched down the road, she could see the town coming up ahead, it was a good five thousand metres off still, but she was closing the gap with ease. She made her way into the town ten minutes later. Her bare feet were hurting from the long trek, and her unbrushed teeth stank badly. She kept walking down to the middle of the road until she finally reached the watering hole.
It was a little way station where water waspulled from a well, via a pump,and deposited in the huge buckets. Nadya rested her feet and legs while she waited for the lin of other slaves to shorten. It was hours, and Nadya knew what would happen when she got back. She'd get smacked, whipped, and scorned. And then she'd clean the house. When the crowd began to disippate, Nadya made her way to one of the spouts and turned the water on. She filled both buckets, and took a gulp of water for herself before she left. She turned and made her way back to the road leading out of the town. Back to Hinche.
“I have come to buy one of your oldest slaves,” the man sittign in the chair said as he looked around the room. His pale skin had a healthy pink glow to it, and his brown hair was tied in a ponytail. His gloved fingertips were steepled and he peered over them. His teeth were white and sharp. “Now, Madame D'Leone, I have been waiting here for quite some time. I am afraid that if you are not able to present me with a suitable individual to fulfill my needs, that you will have to be passed over for the pick.”
“No,” Madame D'Leone said as she lookked around the room for something, “I have a slave you'll like, his name is Caglion, he--”
“I am not interested in little boys or little girls Madame,” the man said as he rose to his feet. “I an my associates have been here for four hours already. We are on our way to Verrettes.”
“No!” D'Leone shouted as she grabbed the visitor's arm. He looked at her, and held his free hand up to stop the two accomplices who were approaching her with daggers from their belts.
“Madame D'Leone, I would not wnt you to die this evening.”
“Give me one more minute.”
“Fine,” he said as he snatched his arm away and sat back in the chair. Madame D'Leone went into the backyard. It was at that moment the visitor heard a sloshing sound, and he looked out and saw Nadya. He rose to his feet and pointed at the girl through the window. “Her,”
Madame D'Leone walked into the room and saw the visitor standing. “Is something wrong?” She asked. “I've brouhgt another slave for you sir.” She presented him with a fourteen year old girl. He took one look at the child and turned his head.
“No thank you my dear, I'd like to see the young lady carrying the water.”
“Nadya?”
“Is that her name”
“Yes, her name is Nadya, Nadya Luzarienne.”
“Of the Luzarienne family of Santo Domingo?”
“Yes.”
“Why is she here?”
“Her family disowned her.”
“Ah,” the man touched his lip with his finger as he looked out at the young woman. “Fetsh her,”
Nadya heard the sharp voice of the mistress as she ordered her into the house. Nadya quickly made her way to the front door and entered to see the three visitors. The middle man stepped forward, bent to get to her level, and smiled.
“Your name is?”
“Nadya Luzarienne,”
“My you have a lovely smile.” he said.
“Who are you?”
“I am Donovan Wrathe.” the man smiled. He kept his eyes focused on the girl's eyes, keeping hers on him. Then one of his fingertips glided along her belly. It was quick and if you blinked, you'd have missed it; the reaction however was quite evident as Nadya grabbed her belly, curled forward and squealed loudly. Donovan put his finger on her chin and brought the grinning girl's face up.
“How old are you?”
“I'll be eighteen later today...”
“I have a present for your birthday my dear,” he smiled. “I will take you away from here.”
“You're lying.” Donovan flicked his finger on her belly again.
“I have no need for lies.” He smiled. “Do you wish to leave this place?”
“Yes of course,”
“Then I will bring you away.” He stood up, “Madame, I wish to purchase your slave.”
