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Rated: 13+ · Sample · History · #1147234
Being the sole survivor of a pirate attack roughly fifteen years ago, Atora.
Atora left the comfort of the blazing fire, stepping out onto the cold stone balcony, over looking the shallow place they called a village. It was past midnight, and the stars were shining bright. The air had the smell of damp grass mixed with the sharp sting of salt water. She shut the door, enclosing her mistress, governor’s daughter, Elise, in her barrier of warmth. Atora gazed up at the glimmering stars and smiled up at the twinkling balls of fire. She felt a pang of guilt. She doubted anyone else appreciated the view as much as herself. Tora’s grin faded into a cold scowl, as she ventured into unhealed wounds.


The lights in the room were dim, and blood was spattered every where one looked. Three bodies lay limp among the debris of the tiny cottage. One was an older woman, Zorleen, a grandmother. One was a middle-aged woman by the name of Cathea. The similar sharp features in the two women’s faces showed the relationship between the two. Mother and daughter. The last body was a man’s. The one married to Cathea, no doubt. His name was Rudy.

Crawling from under the bed was Atora. Her eye’s already huge eyes were as big as dinner plates, and her usually tan skin was unusually pale. Her pale blonde hair was stained a dried brown from blood. A cut above her dainty eyebrows would leave a scar for the rest of her years.

The house was set aflame. The fire burning brightly and smoking clogging her small nose. She fled out the back door, making a run for the dense forest, the opposite of direction the sea, where the pirate’s had invaded. She heard branches snapping behind her, as the boots of her stalker hit the hard rocky soil. She broke into the dark forest, smells of greenery filling her nostrils. She dove under the underbrush, twigs getting entwined with her hair.

The boots stopped and a cutlass came poking through the growth. As it came closer with every breath she took, she knew it was over…


“Atora!” Elise screamed, her high pitched voice almost shattering the glass of the windows. “Why aren’t you in here? I could have needed you!”

“I’m sorry, milady,” she murmured just loud enough for the lady to hear. Atora bowed her head, hands settling both legs.

Elise waved it of with a sway of her hand and continued, “Why were you out there any way?”

“Just appreciating the view, milady.”

“That’s a good enough answer, I guess.”

Atora smiled, looking up at Elise through her lashes. On Elise’s face was a look of pity. Elise was sitting upright in bed, lying against a mound of pillows. The blankets settled around her pudgy frame. Looking down at her scrawny self, Atora grimaced. She was a lean, curly-haired blonde.

“Why the look, Atora?” Asked Elise, smiling in a mischievous way, making the blonde feel uncomfortable.

“No reason, mistress,” Atora said calmly, eyes going to the floor.

“Well, then, Atora! Go get out of that nightdress. You’re going to make me a snack.”

“But, milady! It’s past one in the morning!” Atora’s anger flared slightly, pointing at the clock. She was unwilling to make a snack for this already chubby woman.

“My dear, dear maid. If you don’t like that you can leave. Without this week’s pay!” Elise cried, knowing, Atora would stay.

“What would you like?” She asked quietly.

Elise smiled in that annoying way of hers and ordered a long list of food that would keep Atora up until dawn. As the order came to a close Atora scuttled off, dragging her feet.

As she walked down the grand stairway, which ended with a flourish towards the door, she knew that when she had cooked up the concoctions Elise had ordered she would have no desire for any one of them.
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