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*I'm reposting the story the fix the errors I had made in the other thread*
--Chapter 1: A Vague Arrival--
A boy sat up, and winced. He felt as though every one of his bones were broken. He shivered. The boy was wearing a pair of khaki shorts, along with a dark collared shirt. Questions raced through his mind- Where was I? What was I doing here? How had I arrived here?
He tried to think back to an earlier phase, but... Nothing came. It was evident that he'd lost his memory. The bits he DID remember were limited. A few thoughts made sense, though others didn't- His name was Louis Reyals Nogard. Louis was 14. He was male. Despite those three memories, nothing made sense. As Louis recalled, he had received a letter; He'd had memorized every letter written on that thin sheet of papyrus paper:
"My dear boy,
Your fate is very incomprehensible. I cannot clarify your reasoning for arriving in Hexley- That is your job. At this state in time, you may be profoundly perplexed, but don't stress over it. The answers will unfold over time. Your destiny is foretold; I put my faith in you. You are strong, and courageous. You have self-confidence like no other Trider. Good luck, Louis. You were born to be a Trider. You were born to kill.
Best wishes, George Reyals Nogard"
The last three words caught him off guard. 'Reyals Nogard' were both Louis' and George's last names. Was there a possibility that George was his father? But, if so, what did this letter mean? Why couldn't his own father clarify his supposed 'destiny'? Why had George mentioned the words 'You were born to kill' in the letter? None of this made sense to Louis. Not one word on that letter.
After several minutes of confoundment, he soon became aware of my bearings- Frost-covered pine trees; Several white, blank hills; The three inches of snow his feet were buried under; The sign of dawn, as the Sun slowly sank beyond the horizon; The small flakes of snow fluttering down to the ground. He shivered due to the cool breeze and the flakes landing on my bare arms, legs, and head. Louis quickly tried to turn and flee, but fell, collapsing in the snow. His teeth chattered as he hesitantly pulled myself to his feet.
Louis tried moving at a slower pace, which he soon discovered worked. Step by step, he traveled aimlessly, having no destination. The word 'Hexley' pushed itself into his mind. George had said it as if it were a place- A location. Perhaps he could take refuge in this so-called 'Hexley'. He didn't know what direction to go in, nor did he know how far Hexley was from here. He steadied his breathing as my heart pumped quickly in my chest, worry creeping into his head. Would I die out here due to starvation, or would I freeze to death? He asked himself. Was I the only one out here? Was I alone?
Louis pushed himself to keep moving, losing himself in the pine trees. Refuge was not going to come to him- He had to go to it. With that thought in mind, he continued onward, the disturbing multiple possibilities of what the letter could have meant creeping back into my mind. Suppressing his fear and agitation, he continued moving forward.
The Sun slowly sank, leaving Louis very little light to travel. The blizzard had amplified, leaving him very little warmth. His misery finally broke free from his hold. He clutched his stomach and sank down beneath a pine tree. He pulled his legs in, so they wouldn't be affected as much by the storm. He shivered wildly. His mind raced. His stomach growled impatiently. His eyes grew heavy. He eventually let sleep take over. Despite the cold, hunger, and misery, he felt safe and comfortable under that small pine. The disturbance came when the dream began.
Louis stood on a cliff, overlooking valleys overwhelmed by shadows. The sky was a sickly shade of crimson red, shrouded by clouds. The clouds moved quickly, forming peculiar images before morphing into other images moments later.
Thunder shook the ground. There was no sign of lightning, nor rain, which kept him asking himself more questions.
Movement caught my eyes. He glanced down, and followed a shadow moving at a rapid pace across the valleys below. He couldn't wrap his mind around what he was seeing- It was a shadow alone. There was no sign of the shadow's source. The boy's skin tingled, disturbed and puzzled of what he was seeing.
Eventually, the shadow grew larger in size. It soon became large enough to frighten Louis off the cliff. He lost his footing on the ledge, and slipped. His arms flailed wildly as he fell forward, towards the ground several hundred feet below. The wind blew back in his face as he plunged towards his awaiting death.
Louis sat up abruptly, his heart beating wildly and drops of sweat running down his face. He wiped his face clean with a sleeve and blinked, taking in his surroundings. He was in a soft, tender king-sized bed. A fresh pair of clothes lied at the bedpost. A thick, warm quilt covered him from the tip of his toes to his waist. The walls were coated with a dark green shade of paint. The floors were assumingly created of oakwood. A bedside table with a single lamp sat next to him, and a glass of milk and and a plate of raspberries and french toast to top it all off.
The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Louis sat up straight. A women peeked her head in and had apparently realized that she'd startled him. She blushed.
"Forgive me," She said gingerly. "I didn't mean to disturb your rest."
"You didn't," Louis said blandly. "I was already awake."
The woman smiled sweetly. "Well, I never got to give you a proper greeting. Welcome to Hexley, North Dakota."
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--Chapter 2: Dawn's Conviction--
Hours later, after things have been clarified, Louis sat at a table in a small cafe, sipping from a mug of hot chocolate. The inn porter- Aleshia was her name -had given him full detail of how he had arrived in the town. A couple hunters had found him miles away from Hexley, and took him in, presenting his sleeping body to the small, secluded town's mayor, Mr. Jorspire.
Aleshia had volunteered to pay for his room for the next couple nights until they could think of a route to send Louis on his way.
There was a problem. The train's tracks were covered in snow. Mr., Jospire had said it'd be dangerous to risk sending Louis back that way. As for the cars, it'd be risky to drive on the frozen streets.
Louis continued sipping his hot chocolate, gazing out the window as the blizzard continued blowing. He caught glimpses of a girl staring intently at him. He blushed, an awkward feeling settling over him. The girl had evidently noticed, and stood up from her seat several feet away. She strolled over to his table and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Louis uncomfortably brushed her hand away, and said the first word that came to mind: "What?" He didn't intentionally make it sound boorish; It just came out that way.
The girl hadn't seemed to notice. "You're hiding something." She kept her voice low, and steady. She seemed determined to unmask Louis. "Who are you? And why are you here?"
"I don't know!" Louis confessed, a bit loudly. A couple people nearby stole a few glances, but quickly reflected their attention towards their tables, the small television, or the windows.
"Are you implying that you have amnesia?" The girl asked.
The word caught in Louis' throat, but he eventually spoke. "Yes," He said bluntly. "I am."
The girl moved her face in closer until their noses were inches from eachother. She whispered, her eyes narrowed. "I know you don't belong here. I positive you don't belong here. You're hiding something- Whether you know it or not. Deep down, you have a secret that I intend on discovering."
She pulled her face away. She took a step away, then stopped, her eyes resting on her shoes. "What's your name, boy? Mine's Dawn Floranda."
"...Louis," He spoke, angered and irritated at this girl. She had no right to speak to him in such a manner. "Louis Reyals Nogard."
The girl lifted her eyebrows at the mention of his last name, but she blinked and walked away, never glimpsing back at him as she sprinted out of the cafe and out of his view.
'Strange folks', Louis thought. 'Very strange...'
For some deviant reason, the thoughts of the shadow from his nightmare flashed through his mind. The nightmare had been so real. It was as though it were trying to tell him something. Give him a hint.
He shook his head, knowing better than to believe a dream was communicating with him. He sighed heavily, and lied his head down on the table. His life no longer made sense. On the other hand, he hadn't a clue whether or not it made sense to begin with. |