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The Specialist (1 Viewer)

Ramen 6378

Senior Member
I'm back, everyone. In case you don't remember, I created the Dream World story from a few weeks back. I made a new series called The Specialist, primarily to take a sort of break from other stuff. It's going to hopefully be a short chaptered story, maybe five chapters in all. Some background info: the time period is during the Witch Trials in Europe, and the POV is from a government official who hunts down the "witches." Comment, criticize, and enjoy!

Chapter 1: Cheshire Smile in the Night

The foliage rustled, a whisper in the night. Boots softly crushed the dry leaves beneath them. A small mouse, hiding behind a rock, glanced up, its eyes shining like beads in the darkness. It saw several large beings, shrouded in the very fabric of death itself, walking purposefully towards the west.

One of them, the leader, hoisted his dark cloak to avoid snagging it on a branch. The mouse saw something gleaming and silver on the being's waist. It was Death's weapon, the conjuror of the element of fire and lightning! The mouse squeaked and scurried away into the underbrush.

I turned around, lowering my cloak. Behind me, my men started to climb over the log. In a whisper, I murmured, "What was that?"

My new partner, Calvin Baron, muttered, "What was what?"

"That noise."

"I'm pretty sure that was a mouse."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Stop being so paranoid."

With that, he passed me silently, his dark cloak disguising him under the cover of night. I sighed, motioned my men to follow, and set off into the outskirts of the town.

***

We reached the town's outer gates within an hour. I stopped my men short of the gate, and knocked on the wooden structure loudly. An eye peeked out. I smiled and said, "Greetings. I am Thomas Belfour. I come on behalf of the government and His Majesty the King."

A cautious, surprisingly young voice rang out in response, "What do you want?"

"We have come to take away the witch in your town."

The eye disappeared. Seconds later, the wooden gate swung open.

A young boy stood on the other side. His face expressed, at the same time, distress and hope. I smiled at him in reassurance and said gently, "Where is the witch, son?"

He silently pointed to the far end of the town, across the center square. I glanced in the direction and said, "Thank you." Tossing him a coin, I set off with my men towards the witch's house.

As we walked, windows opened, and lights turned on. Even in the dead of night, government officials still draw attention, I thought. Even as I thought this, people opened their doors and stared at us with fearful, but hopeful eyes.

We reached the house. It was of good origin, but months of egging, rock-throwing, and outside abuse had left it with a derelict feel. I motioned my men to stop in front of the yard. Behind us, a sizable crowd had formed, complete with torches and angry faces, staring gauntly at the house. I fingered the revolver holstered along my waist.

Calvin came up and said quietly, "Come on. Let's get this over with. I don't like doing this anymore than you do."

I nodded and shouted out, "Witch! Come on out!"

A light turned on in the bedroom window. A shrill, stressed, female voice rang out, cutting through the deathly silence, "What do you want?"

"We are government officials, sent by the King! You are a witch, so we have come to take you in!"

"I ain't no witch! I never practiced black magic or any of that nonsense!"

"We don't want to hurt anyone! Just come on out!"

There was silence from the house.

"If it makes you feel any better, we have direct orders from the King not to harm you in any way! Come on out; we have nothing to hide from each other!"

After a few minutes, the door creaked open. A frail-looking woman dressed in ragged clothes stepped out hesitantly, the fear growing in her face as she looked at the mob behind us.

I nodded enthusiastically and called out, "Don't worry about them! You're perfectly safe with us. Just come on and don't do anything that we'll both regret."

She looked hesitant. I offered a reassuring smile and held both of my hands up in a sign of peace. After a minute, she walked slowly over to us.

Once she got within normal talking distance, the crowd began to get loud. I turned around and yelled, "Quiet! No one is to touch her, understand?" They quieted down immediately.

I turned to the woman and smiled again, "You're going to come with us, all right? Don't run away or anything."

She still looked suspicious, "I ain't going to be executed, am I?"

"Of course not. All you're going to the capital for is to receive a fair trial for your supposed practice of black magic."

"But I didn't even do any of that black magic! All I had was a book given to me by a close friend of mine. He lives far away, so he must've thought that that kind of thing was all right!"

"Don't worry about it. It'll be fine. So this book was about black magic, was it?"

"Yes, but..."

A crack rang out in the frigid winter air. The woman dropped to the icy ground, dead before her face hit the soil. I lowered my revolver and holstered it coolly. My men and the crowd were in shock. Calvin, after a minute, stuttered out, "Wha...why'd you do that?"

Coldly, with no trace of that smile on my face, I replied, "We got a confession. She was in possession of a book of black magic. That's all we needed."

Turning to the crowd, I called out, "Party's over, everyone. Get back to your homes." The crowd, after casting several looks at the body, slowly dissipated.

I turned to my men and said, "Come on. Let's get back to the capital. The king will want to hear of this." I wrapped my cloak around my body to shelter it from the growing wind and trudged off to the front gates, knowing that my men would eventually follow.

Another job well done, I thought. I truly am the best in the business. Despite the rapidly dropping temperature, a hint of that brilliant smile appeared on my satisfied face.
 

Sonofjoe

Senior Member
Hi Ramen, sorry but the dialogue and other things just don't ring true for me in your time period and spoil what could become a good story. How do you turn on the lights when electricity hasn’t been invented? The revolver was invented by Colt in 1836 some 200 years after the trials declined. Words like; yeah, paranoid, “party’s over” just don’t fit.

When I write about something from the past, I research the period. What did they wear? How did they converse? What transport was available? etc. etc.
 
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