Effects of a story

Chapter 1

Knock, knock, knock, the bang on the door traveled through the house and left only a feeling of anxiety as no one ever knocks on our door. Without thought I ducked behind our kitchen table and closed my eyes so that I would be or at least felt safe. I heard hesitant footsteps slowly make their way to the front of our house and the creaking of the old wooden door hit my ear. Voices were mumbled into what seemed like a different language but I could sense the discomfort and fear. I eventually built up enough courage to leave my safe haven and slowly moved towards the doorway, trying not to make a sound. I continued to walk with caution but that failed when I saw that black tunic and a gold badge that symbolized everything they were not. A Death Hunter. I loudly gasped and stood there terrified, shaking. The Death Hunter's gaze caught mine and he then gave me a sickening fake smile. I gulped as I approached him, trying to look undaunted. Suddenly, the back of my father's head was visible. Yet, he didn't seem to notice or even care that I was there and a Death Hunter was standing before me. I looked again and saw my mother behind the Death Hunter. Her eyes were wet and she looked at me with so much sorrow and innocence as she mouthed that she loved me. My father was still oblivious to everything that was going on and kept his head turned to block out the world.

"Why are you taking her?" I asked the Death Hunter, tears starting to form in my eyes as I knew the answer. My mother started to say my name but the Death Hunter interrupted her.

" Your mother is going to help keep the sixth age alive by being our sacr..."

"No" I yelled, I didn't need nor want him to finish that sentence "You can't take her from us" My father finally turned around. His eyes were blood red and dark circles surrounded them, he had been crying.

I threw myself at my mother and hung on as if I did this they wouldn't be able to take her.

"We could always sacrifice two humans, I'm sure the story priest wouldn't mind" the Death Hunter's smile got bigger as he said this. My father gasped and snatched my hands off of her as we both watched the Death Hunter walk away with my mother. My father then went into the house emotionless and came to an abrupt stop. I followed his glare and found he was staring at a poster of the story. This poster is sacred and all of the people of this town worship it because they believe this story is the only reason why they are still alive. My father's fingers brushed along the edge of the thin cloth, he then grabbed it by the corner and pulled the cherished poster down from the wall.

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My heart cries every time I relive that memory. My mother's face was blurry because I was only five years old but my father told me a lot about her and how the gods were blessed to have her presence.

Vie and I sit on top of a large hill, silently. Usually, I love silence. I love being able to listen to my own thoughts, but Vie was never silent. He always had some thing to say, but I guess today, he didn't.

My father said that during the storm, they had so many corpses, they didn't know what to do with them so they just started pilling people up, creating a hill and over time grass started growing on top. So supposedly we're sitting on a pile of people, but that could just be a myth.

"Remember you used to say you wished that your dad would stop all of this" I said braking the silence, thinking about the hill had made me wonder about the story. He nodded. "Do you think he ever will?"

"Why should he?" he grumbled and I wanted to question his attitude but some part of me wanted not to because it might ruin our friendship.

"What's wrong?" I asked but bit my lip after the words left my mouth.