Writing Clips

Protective Gold and Blazing Red

     The hero steps toward the girl. Everyone who has heard of him reveres him, and he loves it. He protects them against the villains, against themselves, against all that could cause them harm. Except himself, of course. They always ask him, "What can we do to repay you?" This? Now, this is what glory reaps. Glory reaps what victory sows.

Another step toward her. This town has gathered, eager to please this wonderful hero, he who saved their city, he who is a God. But he is not a god. He is just a man with more means than others to do things. He is just a man who is appreciated for protecting people. And he is just a man who has found a girl. A woman. And he wants her.

This darling girl, young, only 18. Beautiful, with long red hair--bright red, the color of a rose or a bright apple. Her face seemed to be of perfect porcelain, eyes a gorgeous gold, specks of silver embellishing their beauty. She was tall, slim, with what's seen as a flat chest and flat butt. She doesn't mind that.

Her outer beauty is only rivaled by her inner, kind as can be. She cares for others, does what she can to help them, somehow managing not to be a doormat. As soon as the hero laid eyes on Reyla, he was in love. So he asked for her, when the people asked what they could give him to thank him. They were hesitant. "But," they said, "we need her. She does so much to help us, to teach us--when we needed it most, she came to us to help us learn to cook, clean, sew, hunt. As our town improves, she has started teaching us art, and trading, so we may be able to survive once she leaves." When they told him this, his eyes grew wide.

"Oh, I see. So, what your saying is, despite all you guys talking and say you wanted to give me something for your appreciation, you didn't really. Is that it?" His anger had grown fast. He took quick steps toward the man, but was swiftly cut off by a woman speaking.

"Leave him alone!" She yelled. Her gorgeous gold eyes were blazing with rage. Furious at him? No, never. No one could ever be furious with him. Especially not her. Shifting his shoulders toward her, his gaze softened. So, so beautiful. She approaches him, keeping a far enough distance that he can't reach her.

"What do you want? Why do you cause these people pain?" She is confused, worried, and furious. Gold eyes send daggers at him, and surely would have killed him if looks could kill.

"These people are those I protect. I was only requesting they follow through on their word."

"Ah, yes, and the fact that you protected them and decided you deserve payment for that is what any other hero would have done. Right?" She accentuates her point through facial expressions, sarcasm evidently not enough. "And it must be one hell of a thing for you to want only it."

"It is indeed "one hell of a thing", as you put it." He steps toward her, hand reaching to caress her face. "It's you."

Her eyes burn harsher, glowing in the fury overtaking her.

"Me!? You think yourself so impressive that you deserve to receive a person as payment. Bullshit! You deserve absolutely nothing. You save these people and then take advantage of them. The fact you decided to put yourself out there to protect them is your own damn fault. Besides, you can't own a person. You can't own me."

"That," he says, "depends on how high a price I'd be willing to pay. Everything can be bought."

That was the final straw. She lunges forward, the only signal lying in the sudden glow of her eye. Fist flying, it almost hits its mark-- almost. The hero caught her fist, surprise in his face. Reyla throws the other fist, trying desperately to cause him pain. He catches that too. The hero pushes her out, each fist in hand, then spins her back toward him, her own arms trapping her, her back against his torso as she throws her weight around in attempts to get free. He doesn't waver.

"Let me-- let me go! Let me go, let me go, let me go!!!" Her yells turn to screams in her panic. Eyes wide, tears streaming down her face, she begs for help from the people. "Please, please," she begs. Slowly, she stops struggling, dropping her weight. Her breathing picks up, vision getting dark around the edges. The hero still holds her, but switches his grip so he can support her with one arm around her waist, the other holding her wrists together at her shoulder. She sobs, all of the memories rushing through her head. Her vision goes black.

(Can't remember who the idea came from, but it's from tumblr)