The 12 Damnations Ch 1

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The year was 1779 in New York City

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The year was 1779 in New York City.  The air smelled of gunpowder and tension resonated throughout the populated city. A British attack had oocured not but 2 hours before, but the silence of the aftermath still lingered. No sounds of rejoice or pleasure was heard, for the continetals had fell. Their beloved city was captured once again along with its people. Few were left to serve the British occupants whom were resting after their recent battle, but the others were put on a boat for England. There they would live new lives under close rule of the King. There they would not cause such an outburst. It had been a few days since they had set off for their mother land, but the American inhabitants on board, chained in the caverns, were clueless upon the intentions the British had for them. Only assumptions and mere theories were circulated around the caverns only arising fear among them.

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No one dared to make more than a whisper for fear the British soldiers above them might blow their brains out, but the whispers continued. However their silent gossip was quickly cut short by a sharp soung.

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A  small rattle echoes out from the far corner of the room. A little girl was trying to break free from her confinments. Her efforts were in vain however as a withered woman silenced her actions. Try as she might even if escape was possible at this point, where would she go?

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The days passed and continued the same. Repetitive noises, actions, and feelings. Feelings of pain, regret, suffering, fear, bloodlust. It must have been at least a week on the open sea since the boat had departed. No one seemed to have kept count, but how could they when no one on board came down to let them no. No communication or light had been shed in the darkness of the boats taverns since the day they had been captured. Many had assumed they were taken for labour or worse. Most have heard and seen rumours of such things, but never before by the people of their characteristics. Many on board were pale of face and English speaking, but that did not seem to matter anymore. Many believed their theories of labour were becoming far more likely as the days continued on. For the first time since their departure a man brought them food, but only did so again a few days later. It seems their fellow occupants upstairs soon realized their captives would too die without sustenance. 

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After what felt like months of passage the boat finally arrived in its intended destination. England. While the occupants upstairs were beyond ecstatic the ones still chained were too weak to mutter any joy of celebration as their long journey came to an end. But as they were brought out one by one they were lazily washed down and given simple clothes to wear until they arrived at their absolute destination. The palace. Once they all arrived the American captives were quite shocked to see they were met with friendly smiles and finely made clothes. For something to be worn by a servant that is. Each captive was measured, weighed, and checked for sickness before entering. Once inside however each captive was paired with another servant to give them the grand tour and expectations of such a place. With the smiles and attitudes of the servants was suprisingly optimistic it was almost unsettling. One captive especially thought so. Her name was Beth. Elizabeth Meyers.

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"Do you truly think me to be a beast! You incredulous pigs shall soon learn your errors for such a pitiless arrangement for me and my people!" She spat upon the shoes of the palace guards and stood her ground confidently, unafraid of the consequences of her actions. She expected no sympathy, but it seemed she was again yet to be suprised. A soft touch came upon her shoulder which urged her to turn around with the same hardened look. A seemingly kind man tried his best to provide her with a fair warning, "You need not fear these men whom have brought you here. I can assure you that you will not be harmed. I myself have called this humble palace my home for my whole life, but if you are not to trust in my words I'm afraid an attitude such as that could bring you slight harm in the future." She took note of his advice, yet continued to act upon her rash impulses. Beth was an average girl in all aspects that an American was expected to have. Blonde hair, blue eyes, strong voice, and the strange naive attitude. That especially seemed to be a common trait for some odd reason. She made herself known immedietly by cursing upon the man who escorted her off the boat. She spoke like a sailor with little hesitation to censor herself. She openly showed distaste for her new position and capture. It wasn't long however until palace officials saw it best that she was either kept under control, or simply put down. Luckily however the latter was not chosen. After a month of her new position, Beth was married to an Englishmen named Bernard Jones. A patient man who was well known for being too kind for anyone to bear. Their union was a happy one thankfully. Yet this didn't stop talk of executions to still be made. 

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While Beth continued to live as happy as one could get under such conditions she found a mutual love and bond with a few dear friends whom she would console to in her times of need. The Jones family along with a few others by the name of  MacFarlan and Wellington would continue to share their close friendships for decades to come, but now was not the time for such proposals to be made of the future. For the time most important was the present and needless to say it was still on its edge of disaster. Incoming news from the colonies came with fear that the British might lose the war and their colonies. While Beth felt no concern for such a thing, her dear friend However felt deeply affected. 

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Matilda Wellington was a modest lady. One of fair beauty and grace far superior to a swan. She was of British blood along with her husband Jon. Jon however was one of the many male servants sent to fight across the sea for their countries colonies. As the letters to Matilda from the colonies continued to grow scarce she feared for the life of her husband. Feared how if the worst were to come true how it would affect her, her children, and her work. 

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The months continued to go by. Time slowly fading away. The seasons changed and Matildas pain only grew as the months continued and the American Revolution came to a close the crushing reality came to her as news of the victor circled around the palace. Each night she stood out on the balconys to wait for any incoming ships, hoping one of them would hold her dear husband, but as the night's went by and the last ships arrived she realized that her last shred of hope was gone.

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It was then that she knew. The another Damnation had been complete.

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[I didn't really know when to stop typing or how to exactly end this, but the servants revolution should start in the next chapter  ):/]

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