Someone Of Little Consequence

Chapter 1

Fire it ravaged the town causing homes, shops, and people to burn with it. Ash mixing with the burnt smell of flesh, scorching heat and strong gusts of wind made the town smell as if it were rotting.

Bodies lined the streets, friends and family huddled over the bodies, screeching at a God for their pain. I was left to wonder who could cause such a monumental catastrophe. There was only was answer, it was another ravaging visit from the Marksmen.

There visits always caused destruction, but I hadn't seen this much at all before. Families torn apart by these men who came like a plague, destroying everything in their wake in order to please a self righteous king.

I hadn't expected their visit to be so soon after the last one that nearly led our village to starve, while the king ate like the foul beast he was. I heard a loud crash and a pained cry, I rushed over to see that Mrs. Fitzgerald had been crushed by a long piece of wood, it protruded from her shoulder causing her blood to flow rapidly down her chest.

I ran over to her, her scream pierced my ears with such ferocity that it pained me to my core. Her shoe store was in shambles behind her, large tears poured down her face like a river.

"Mrs. Fitzgerald" I called to her quickly trying to get the plank out of her shoulder. "Ah!" She cried clutching her shoulder with a pained expression on her face.

I saw a Marksmen, "Help please" I called to him. "Not my place to do so" he simply replied. I watched him walk away in horror, how could they be so cruel? Blood covered my hands as I pulled at the wretched wood.

"Please" Mrs. Fitzgerald said holding onto my hand and looking into my eyes with a saddened expression. "Stop." "What no, I must help you" I told her in utter disbelief that she would think I would leave her side.

"Help others" she spoke out of breath, exhaustion was hitting her hard and the air was becoming thick with smoke. "Help!" I cried into the streets of bustling people and bodies covering the ground.

Smoke was infiltrating my lungs and I began coughing harshly. "Go please!" Mrs. Fitzgerald urged me, her face was tear streaked and her body was becoming cold, while her clothes were drenched in her own blood.

It was such a horrific scene to behold. I simply shook my head while tears made their way down my face. "Help someone!" I cried again, feeling so tired and worn , so unbelievably petrified of these marksmen.

Finally someone answered my calls and came running up quick,Terrence, a local farm boy. He rushed over to us, burned and beaten, half of his face was bruised and bloody. I couldn't help but wonder what he had done to deserve that fate.

"Let me" he said pushing away my hands to replace them with his own on the wood. Terrence groaned and huffed but finally pulled out the log. "Ahh" Mrs. Fitzgerald cried an ear splitting scream.