This is a story I am currently working on. For now...here is a preview piece (that is also the beginning). Enjoy!
The night was quite chilly. Tabitha did not notice, even though she was in beggar's rags. She was too frightened to take notice of the cold. She glanced behind her in fear. The stories she heard were true.
Suddenly, Tabitha bumped into a man in a black overcoat with a black top hat and wearing dark grey trousers.
She did not observe his clothing at the time, as she backed away, or tried to. The man had a hold of her shoulders.
"I say, steady on there, Miss!" stated the gentleman, but Tabitha hardly heard him.
She kicked the man in the shins, making him let go of her. Tabitha heard shouting behind her but she kept running. Ducking into a side-alley, Tabitha stopped as she reached a dead end. A shadow loomed over the nine-year-old girl. Turning around, gasping in short but heavy breaths, Tabitha fainted from fright, believing her persuer had caught up with her at last.
(if people like this and want more, please tell me here.)
(Book 2, Part 7)
The two of them said nothing to each other. It wasn’t long before Abigail had left with the empty mug and Ben was alone once more within the Storeroom. But this was also not to last long before the older boy with the whip had returned.
“Come on, move it ya slime!” crudely remarked the boy with a scowl on his face as he practically dragged Ben from the Storage Room out onto the balcony of The Workhouse. Shoving Ben down upon the hard metal walkway, the older boy snapped his whip before barking an order to Ben.
Ignoring the pain of hitting the metal walkway, Ben did as he was bid as best as he could since he was still tied up.
Inching his way to his feet, Ben felt the Sting of the lash as the whip hit his back with a cracking force.
“Hurry up maggot!” snarled the whipping boy with a sneer.
Wincing from the welt that was starting to form upon his back Ben continued to inch up until he was on his feet, hearing the impatient tapping of the black-booted foot of the whipping boy behind him on the metal walkway.
After a few more repetitions of being whipped into moving forward if he wasn’t fast enough, Ben clambered down the stairway to the ground floor of The Workhouse until the whipping boy told him to stop.
Grateful for at least some rest, Ben took this moment to glance around him. There were girls of different ages on hands and knees scrubbing at the floor with well-worn scrub brushes.
(to be continued...)
Hmmm, great story, too lazy to read from beginning but it's still quite great. may be you can make an UR fanfic that doesn't involves destroying 1 whole clan( in last one Montana got destroyed), just severely weaken is good too. may be one about Piranas b4 they got to clintz city, or may be the course of some of the Cr's journeys( how many people do you think wonder what happened to amiral py and smokey when they're on board together- my guess is zero lol)
I shall do my own stories my own way.
(Book 2, part 8 )
They did not seem to acknowledge Ben until they heard the crack of the whip within the whipping boy’s hands.
“Enough gawking! Get to moving!” snapped out the whipping boy as he led Ben past the girls who started once more scrubbing in case they got in trouble again.
Before Ben knew it he was led down a bricked hallway, the dark grime covering the old bricks with a slimy residue. It was not long until Ben heard the sounds of grinding gears getting louder as the older boy led Ben along the short decrepit hallway by shoving him harshly and muttering curses under his breath.
Ben stopped as he entered the new-looking room that had a few scrawny younger boys in tattered dirty rags hauling what appeared to be bricks as best as they could carry.
The area itself seemed somewhat cramped and the half-finished room was already towering with a wall of bricks being laid by the boys after being crudely smeared with cement.
Ben took in the atmosphere in one instant, the older boy immediately hitting Ben on the back of the head. Ben’s head was throbbing slightly but it was just a knock from the handle of the Whipping Boy’s whip. Having collapsed to his knees from the blow, Ben vaguely heard the Whipping Boy shout out commands but managed to get to his feet and did as the Whipping Boy demanded.
(to be continued...)
(Book 2, Part 9)
Ben’s head felt like it was swimming but after shaking his head slightly he got over this feeling and went to where the older boy pointed with his whip. Ben soon found himself being watched by the other younger boys for a few seconds before the Whipping Boy snapped his whip which made them get back to work.
“Okay, move it you losers! We gots to finish this building by tomorrow!” snapped out the Whipping Boy with a snide sneer on his face.
After surveying the area to make sure none of the younger boys had stopped working, the Whipping Boy went and sat by a corner on a wooden stool to keep an eye on the brick-laying brats.
Ben was stationed near the rear of the area, a place where apparently all male newcomers of The Warehouse were brought to work on brick-laying duties.
Ben had just started getting into the rhythm of the labour when suddenly one of the oldest boys shoved Ben aside and knocked Ben down. Ben glanced at his attacker and saw the boy just ignore Ben and picked up the brick Ben had dropped.
Without even glancing at Ben, the sturdy yet tall youth turned and started walking away towards the half constructed wall they were building.
“That’s Jacob,” muttered a voice beside Ben.
Ben took his eyes off his assailant and looked towards the bearer of the voice.
He was taller then Ben and had a wry half-smile but his steadfast brown eyes held a touch of sadness that Ben was all too familiar with.
(to be continued...)
(Book 2, Part 10 )
Ben did not say anything for he was entitled not to. He was not kidnapped to make friends, of that he was certain. No, he was like many of the other orphans, kidnapped from the streets to do hard labour. But having friends did not help Ben any. He had gotten too close to Tabitha and he lost her. There was no room in his mind for doubt. Having friends just tends to allow you to lose them.
The brown-eyed boy had wandered off, probably sensing Ben did not want to chat. And he had sensed correctly. Ben thought no more over it and decided to continue on with the work, flinching slightly as the sound of the Whipping Boy’s whip snap as another boy had collapsed by accident.
Ignoring the slur of tyrannical words and the other torturous sounds around him, Ben kept to the task at hand. Hefting one of the newly formed black bricks, Ben scrambled to the half-completed wall and as he approached the wall Ben felt an eerie shiver of dread run down his spine. As Ben reached the wall and slipped the black brick into an empty slot he could have sworn he heard a sound coming from the wall. Glancing around to make sure the Whipping Boy was back at his post, Ben lightly pressed his ear beside the wall. A deep yet low energy seemed to be emitting from the wall. Then, Ben heard a whisper. It took Ben a slight moment after hearing it to fully realise what the whisper said. It had uttered two simple words, “Help Us”.
(to be continued...)