Status: Progressing
The Melancholy Tales of the Pearl-Tears
Freedom
Beau grasped his head with both hands, his talons digging into his temples as he snarled with pain at the memory that was distressing him. He ground his teeth together, trying with inexplicable effort to forget what he had once knew.
“Mother…” he muttered, keeping his eyes tightly shut. He keeled over, landing on his knees, as a guttural laugh sounded at his afflictions.
“Stupid boy,” the deep voice rasped, “you have given me unexpected power!” it exclaimed with a disgusting sense of pride. “Power…” it trailed off, he heard talons scraping wood, but Beau’s eyes were still shut, trying to rid himself of the pain he forgot he had.
Beau felt sharp claws grab him from the front of his shirt, the fabric ripping as the being clutched harder. The man, the man with the porcupine quills laughed in disbelief, his coal eyes staring straight at Beau’s. Quick as a whip, Beau grabbed the man's wide throat with his left hand, nails digging in to the pale flesh, blood trickling from the wounds as Beau clenched tighter.
“Do not ever, ever,” Beau replied menacingly, “forget your maker, you stupid fool.”
The man’s beady eyes popped out, a rasping sound escaped his throat as he tried desperately in vain to suck in a breath. Beau’s grip did not loosen, with a smile, he was going to finish it all… until he heard a strangled cry from beyond. Beau snapped his head to where he heard the sound, agile footsteps were the only response, a feeble grip on his unused right hand was felt, mud colored hair shaking as the girl knelt, tightening her grip on his hands with all her might. “No, Beau! Stop!” she shouted, “Please, do not become this.” She pleaded, her eyes searching his.
“Do not lose yourself.” He saw her tears stream down her face, milky pearl streams, an iridescent light shining off her cheeks making her look ethereal. He loosened the grip on the man with the porcupine quills.
“I will never understand you.” Beau stated to Annabel-Leigh, he threw the man aside. A repulsive heap on the ground, all that could be heard from him were his ragged breaths.
“I am not the only one you should be afraid of, old man.” Beau said to the heap, a slight smile on his face. Beau quickly looked to the ground and then turned his back to the monster he created.
A low grumbling sounded, a slight quake of the earth, Annabel-Leigh grasped Beau’s clawed fist. A look of surprise on her face.
The man scurried, trying to get up, but a slight crack shown at his feet. It grew, wider and wider, until it split open with an earth-shattering howl.
“Feather haired boy” the sound boomed. Annabel-Leigh gripped tighter, hiding behind Beau, her eyes on the frantic man stuck half out of the ground and half in it. He grasped at the dirt, trying with all his might to heave upwards, his black eyes shown with fear.
Beau stared at him, his last words to the man were, “This is what you get for treating people as if they’re expendable.”
“No!” the man yelled, he sunk in deeper to the widening gap. Low whispers sounded, clicking and clapping as if a million beings were celebrating. Beau looked away, he had never wanted to inflict pain on someone such as this. He looked towards Annabel-Leigh, her gaze already met his, the set of her jaw the only emotion on her face.
“That was to be my fate, Annabel-Leigh.” He stated simply. She shook her head.
“I am not mad about what was done to the man,” she said softly, “I am mad at what you were about to do.”
He looked away from her, the ground had swallowed up the man, not one quill left behind. A dark stain of cursed dirt the only remnant of what transpired.
“Feather haired boy,” the booming voice said, startling both Beau and Annabel-Leigh. He quickly moved in front of her, looking wildly around, remembering what this voice meant.
“I am satisfied, feather haired boy, do not be afraid.” The disembodied voice continued.
“Your father’s debt has been owed, your curse shall lift. Mark my words, boy, your curse shall lift.” The voice said with a lilting tone, a whoosh of wind signaling the end of the conversation.
Beau looked wearily about, his body ached with tiredness. His shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. Annabel-Leigh looked up at him, a tilt of her head the only sign of her confusion.
“I am free.” Beau said with a tight smile.
“Mother…” he muttered, keeping his eyes tightly shut. He keeled over, landing on his knees, as a guttural laugh sounded at his afflictions.
“Stupid boy,” the deep voice rasped, “you have given me unexpected power!” it exclaimed with a disgusting sense of pride. “Power…” it trailed off, he heard talons scraping wood, but Beau’s eyes were still shut, trying to rid himself of the pain he forgot he had.
Beau felt sharp claws grab him from the front of his shirt, the fabric ripping as the being clutched harder. The man, the man with the porcupine quills laughed in disbelief, his coal eyes staring straight at Beau’s. Quick as a whip, Beau grabbed the man's wide throat with his left hand, nails digging in to the pale flesh, blood trickling from the wounds as Beau clenched tighter.
“Do not ever, ever,” Beau replied menacingly, “forget your maker, you stupid fool.”
The man’s beady eyes popped out, a rasping sound escaped his throat as he tried desperately in vain to suck in a breath. Beau’s grip did not loosen, with a smile, he was going to finish it all… until he heard a strangled cry from beyond. Beau snapped his head to where he heard the sound, agile footsteps were the only response, a feeble grip on his unused right hand was felt, mud colored hair shaking as the girl knelt, tightening her grip on his hands with all her might. “No, Beau! Stop!” she shouted, “Please, do not become this.” She pleaded, her eyes searching his.
“Do not lose yourself.” He saw her tears stream down her face, milky pearl streams, an iridescent light shining off her cheeks making her look ethereal. He loosened the grip on the man with the porcupine quills.
“I will never understand you.” Beau stated to Annabel-Leigh, he threw the man aside. A repulsive heap on the ground, all that could be heard from him were his ragged breaths.
“I am not the only one you should be afraid of, old man.” Beau said to the heap, a slight smile on his face. Beau quickly looked to the ground and then turned his back to the monster he created.
A low grumbling sounded, a slight quake of the earth, Annabel-Leigh grasped Beau’s clawed fist. A look of surprise on her face.
The man scurried, trying to get up, but a slight crack shown at his feet. It grew, wider and wider, until it split open with an earth-shattering howl.
“Feather haired boy” the sound boomed. Annabel-Leigh gripped tighter, hiding behind Beau, her eyes on the frantic man stuck half out of the ground and half in it. He grasped at the dirt, trying with all his might to heave upwards, his black eyes shown with fear.
Beau stared at him, his last words to the man were, “This is what you get for treating people as if they’re expendable.”
“No!” the man yelled, he sunk in deeper to the widening gap. Low whispers sounded, clicking and clapping as if a million beings were celebrating. Beau looked away, he had never wanted to inflict pain on someone such as this. He looked towards Annabel-Leigh, her gaze already met his, the set of her jaw the only emotion on her face.
“That was to be my fate, Annabel-Leigh.” He stated simply. She shook her head.
“I am not mad about what was done to the man,” she said softly, “I am mad at what you were about to do.”
He looked away from her, the ground had swallowed up the man, not one quill left behind. A dark stain of cursed dirt the only remnant of what transpired.
“Feather haired boy,” the booming voice said, startling both Beau and Annabel-Leigh. He quickly moved in front of her, looking wildly around, remembering what this voice meant.
“I am satisfied, feather haired boy, do not be afraid.” The disembodied voice continued.
“Your father’s debt has been owed, your curse shall lift. Mark my words, boy, your curse shall lift.” The voice said with a lilting tone, a whoosh of wind signaling the end of the conversation.
Beau looked wearily about, his body ached with tiredness. His shoulders slumped and he let out a sigh. Annabel-Leigh looked up at him, a tilt of her head the only sign of her confusion.
“I am free.” Beau said with a tight smile.
♠ ♠ ♠
Hello, I am (surprisingly) back! I have no idea why it took me five years to update this, I'm sure not a single soul of who I knew is still around but I just wanted to *attempt* to finish this short little story of mine. Bear with me please, I know not a lot of people paid attention to it before but I'm so proud of it!