I Will Find You

If he had any kind of psychic power then he would have been able to tell that she was planning something that might actually work. As it was, he’d known that she wanted freedom. Anyone with the ability to want anything would know that she did.

(No one likes being held prisoner, not even someone who is in a gilded cage. His wife was held in a cage as far from gilded as you could get. She had no comforts, nothing and no one to really make any of this seem less than it was: enslavement as a living resource for whatever he wanted at the moment.)

He had worked very hard at making sure she would be unable to find the resources needed to escape. It was part of the reason that she didn’t often get to see anyone other than him. He didn’t want her to find sympathy amongst the servants and have someone to help her. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that most people, people who actually cared about the suffering of people they didn’t know, exist and that they would probably try to help her if they knew. He was very careful about what others knew and didn’t know about his wife and her situation. He had gotten where he was because he had known where and how to gather and disseminate information.

The point of the matter was, he hadn’t been aware that his wife, his darling and oh so dear wife had been able to escape. And in such a matter that he was finding it difficult to track her. Whatever she had done to send children away (and it had taken him an embarrassingly long time to figure out that was happening when he’d just thought that her boy had been trying to do a false pregnancy. Human women had this happen to them all the time) she had been able to use to escape for herself. He had been able to get a read on some of the children, but not a location, just that they did exist and were alive somewhere.

“I will find you, I will find you and as many of those pathetic little rats that you’ve hidden from me, my darling wife.” he snarled to himself as he paced the library like a caged animal, books open and strewn about him.

“You cannot run from me forever.”

Just because he could not predict the future did not mean that the power he’d gained was useless in hunting down what belonged to him. He would never stop looking.


Written for today’s Daily Prompt: https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/21/daily-prompt-future-3/

The Price Is Right?

Was this the price of his power, his ability to become more than just some backwater nobody living for nothing more than that moment?

As a child he had wanted simple things, but before he’d hit the double digits his father had passed and his mother had slowly gotten sicker and sicker. He’d had no siblings to help care for their small farm and the neighbor’s weren’t really interested unless they got to keep more than they really needed. They weren’t interested in being neighborly towards his family, small though it was, so he wasn’t really interested in giving them any of his father’s and his grandfather’s hard-won land. They’d taken this from the forest and he’d give it back to the forest before he’d let them get their greedy, selfish hands on it.

His mother hadn’t lasted the year, and he just knew that it hadn’t been a completely natural death. The remnants of different types of strange things that he had found around an on her spoke of something else, something…more…than natural.

He hadn’t known what they were and he hadn’t wanted anyone else to know either. He’d kept some of the things in a field journal that his father had given him and took notes and sketches of them before burning them and his mother’s body. He’d sold what he could to start his new life and then traveled.

He hadn’t sold any of the land though, just let the neighbors know that he’d be back for it, and kept all the proper papers with his field journal as well as filing a copy of them with the magistrate in their area.

That was all decades ago by now. Most of those people were gone, dead or moved away or not even the people that they had been before. He certainly was different. None of his peers from his childhood would ever recognize him now and not just because most of them were gone as well.

He wasn’t the same poor farm boy, a nobody who only held land because his grandfather had come with a sizable family, only to lose them because of sickness and accident and injury.

“My Lord,” his majordomo bowed to him and took his cloak, “I hope that all went well on your latest journey?”

“It did, Marcus, it certainly did. Anything new come about while I was away?”

“No, my lord, your lady wife is still ill, just as before, I am sorry to say.”

“Mayhap what I found whilst out will aid her in her recovery.”

“One can only hope, my lord.”

He moved away from the man behind him and he was alone once he’d reached his wife’s chambers. No one but he was allowed in these rooms without his express and written permission and even then only for a certain amount of time. Once he was in her chambers, he moved towards the door that led to her tower, taking a key out from around his neck and opening the door that led up and up and up the stairs. They seemed higher than they actually were and well they should. He had no need to brush a hand against the runes carved into the walls here and there.

Once at the top he found his wife, sickly looking, but with a smallish bulge at her hips. Her eyes were closed and her breathing labored. This wasn’t unusual and he pulled a small hip flask from his belt and sat at the edge of her pallet. With one hand he lifted her otherwise waif-like body and when her mouth fell open with the aid of a thumb he slowly but surely fed her the liquid from the flask. He was careful to rub his fingers down her throat in order to make sure she swallowed the liquid instead of drowning in it.

She would need several more doses of from the ever-refilling flask at least twice more before he retired for the evening. He had to make sure that the child survived the pregnancy.

Combining species that had never successfully procreated together before was a tricky business.

But, he thought to himself as he laid her back gently on her little cot, it is certainly worth the rewards.

He left the small tower room, his wife never once awakening during his short visit.

In order for his wealth and life and riches to continue, he needed viable offspring with which to continue his work. He could only go so far with unsuccessful and dead fetuses.


Written for this week’s Dungeon Prompt and this wasn’t how it was meant to end, but when a story’s done with it’s little scene, then it is done.

http://theseekersdungeon.com/2014/01/09/dungeon-prompts-season-2-week-2-the-price-of-civilization/

Miss You

You know the bed feels warmer, sleepin’ here alone. –Kelly Clarkson

Warren looked down the short hallway towards his son’s room.

Terry wasn’t home yet, despite the late hour, but Warren wasn’t too worried. Terry was a good kid, despite the recent problems in turning in his classwork. He knew that his son knew what was required and he also knew that his son was still upset about the split between his parents.

Warren missed his wife. Despite the legal papers stating otherwise, Mary was still his wife and he loved her and missed her. He missed holding her in his arms as they fell asleep after a long day at work. He missed breathing in the slight scent that always emanated from her no matter what she tried to cover it up with. She smelled like fire and ice but without the smokey undertones that most people would associate with those two scents mixing.

“Warren, I don’t want to smell like that! It makes me think of Al’s science lab.”

“Mary,” he’d respond, “Al’s lab doesn’t smell like that. It smells like chemical fire and acid ice. They are not the same thing.”

“That is not the point. I’m trying to smell-”

“‘Normal’? Mary, there’s nothing wrong with smelling different than the norm.”

She’d frown at him and he’d smooth a finger between her eyes and tease her about getting wrinkles there too early.

He missed being able to treat her like his wife.

The door downstairs opened.

“I’m home, Dad!”

Warren smiled.

Love

According to the Student’s Dictionary that my eldest nephew gave to me, love is defined as 1)a very strong warm feeling or deep concern for someone, commitment; 2) darling, sweetheart; 3) to feel passion, or a strong affection for someone or something.

We hear about what people are and aren’t willing to do for love, but do we ever really stop and think about it? Really, think about it?

I’m not going to go into all of the details and answers to my questions, I’m just going to tell a little story.

Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who met and fell in love. They married and wanted to have children as many people who marry or love each other do. That was when things turned away from the normal narrative, or maybe they didn’t? After all, there is always a trial of some sort in every story.

They discovered that the lovely wife would more than likely be unable to have any children. The reason? She was only born with one kidney.

Kidneys do several things for each of our bodies that is very important. They help with the urinary system, blood pressure, electrolytes in the body and acid-base balance in the body. They are also a natural filter for our blood. All of these things are important when it comes to pregnancy as pregnancy is hard on the female body even though we’re also designed for it.

She went on to have three children anyway and everyone was happy and healthy. This first trial passed with flying colors and riding off into the sunset. Other trials come and go and they overcome them as in all modern fairy tales.

Except the real sunset wasn’t for several decades.

All children grown, the happy couple now face another trial, this one larger than others.

You see, the lovely wife’s only kidney is failing and none of her family are a match for transplant. She is on dialysis and they don’t know how long she will last while waiting for a compatible transplant. They didn’t know what to do.

One night, as the couple were sleeping, the husband had an idea. The next morning, he slipped out of the bed he’d shared with his wife without waking her up. He bought a sign and wrote on it “NEED KIDNEY 4 WIFE.” He then took to the streets.

With torn cartilage in his knee and in 97 degree weather, he walked 15 miles. People would stop and offer him money. He would reply, “I don’t want your money; I want your kidney.”

Local news station in South Carolina picked up on his story and 2,000 people called offering to help. These kind souls were referred to the hospital where the wife underwent dialysis, but were also not compatible. Many of them donated anyway, other people were still helped.

The husband took up his sign and went back to the streets. He walked another 54 miles and still no compatible donor was found. Other news stations and websites took interest and wrote about this story as well and finally, a compatible donor was found. 41-year-old heroine from Virginia Beach read such an article and offered. She was a match.

This story isn’t over, but it looks like it’s going to be a happily ever after.

One man loved his wife and wasn’t going to wait around when he could do something about it. Other people recognized this love and offered to help, and even when they couldn’t, they still wanted to help others who weren’t even in the story. A stranger from a different state wanted to help and was able to.

There are many types of love in this world. We are so privileged to be given these examples.

For more info on this story, here is the article that caught my attention: http://www.ksl.com/index.php?sid=26909792&nid=1010&title=man-surprises-wife-by-walking-miles-to-find-her-a-kidney-donor