Note: I know I have so many ideas and things that I haven't continued but I've learned to except that I need to pay attention to every new idea or else I'll have a writer's break down and won't be able to write at all. I'll admit that this isn't my best, well it's only the first draft, and I'm hoping with your help this will get better. This starts off in 19th century Italy and it takes place in a town that is not real but I researched a little on what real Italian towns were like so hopefully it is believable. I put this in Other Fiction because it doesn't start off with romance but if you know me, it is truly a love story with other themes and such. Crespuscola e Morte by the way means Twilight and Death in Italian, if you are wondering. I didn't want to call it Twilight and Death because it just sounds so better in another language. Well, without farther ado, here's my new project. Enjoy and thanks for reading!
Crespuscola e Morte
By Angel of Death
Chapter 1
On an evening as dark as soot and as chilled as death, two men were walking down the road. They were haggard, with clothes that looked to have not been washed in days and frames that were as frail as beanpoles. The legs that carried them were strong but fell like looming towers do to the alcohol that tainted their lips.
"With another pint, I fair we'll get along swimmingly with this town," one said, patting his partner on the back.
"Aye."
They both laughed, their cackles echoing over the lush hills and ringing through every tree. Though their legs lacked sobriety they seemed to know where they were going to lead their governors on this night. Many a path were trampled over before one of the travelers realized where they had wandered off to.
"Cliffton, I suppose we've lost our way," the tall, stocky one said, stopping in his tracks. He stared at all round him, assessing the ashen star in the sky. It shed it's ivory light over a castle that sat before them. The perimeter was commanded by a large, stone fence that was dusted with decay and erosion. A winding, grassy path led up to the front of the residence and was met by a mass of trees and flowers. The windows were boarded up and not a light shone from inside.
"Indeed, we have lost our way, Henry," Cliffton replied. Henry could see the greed burning in his friend's eyes and knew the meaning of his sudden hunger.
He was going to rob the castle.
"Cliffton, they may have weaponry and all sorts of traps. A place like this looks as though it belongs to someone of importance."
"No, my friend, this place has not been let for years. I can feel it in my bones that something in there is waiting for us to steal it."
Henry took one more look at the castle. He agreed with his friend that it looked to have been abandoned for quite sometime. The shutters were rusted shut and the skin of the place mirrored the fence. There were huge, gaping holes in parts of the building and vines engulfed the sides, covering most of the walls with moss. Curved peaks and towers sat on top, their shadows casting frightening images on the ground. A shudder traveled through Henry's body but it soon disappeared when he felt Cliffton's impatient stare.
"Well, out with it?" Pushing aside his fears, Henry nodded and then the two ventured closer to the castle.
*
"How d'you suppose we get in now? Everything is all boarded up. I told you this was a bad idea."
"Stop your whining. Come, help me with this here."
Cliffton was trying hard to rip off a board on one window. A tree branch was hanging over them, veiling them in its shadow so it would be impossible for anyone to see what they were up to. Henry took the other side of the wooden board and started to pull. Sweat was forming on his forehead when they got a corner of the board off of the window.
"Try a little bit harder." Cliffton grunted, and then with enough force, the window was free. The two smiled at each other and picking up a rock, Cliffton smashed it against the glass. Once inside, they slowly crept through the darkness. Where the moon looked in they could see old, raggedy drapes and dust covered gold trinkets. A fireplace sat in the center of a wall on the far right and many paintings with bronze frames were scattered around.
"This is a beggar's paradise."
"We should take what we need and get out of here."
There was silence and then Cliffton let out a hardy laugh. It was low and raspy, almost like a crow's caw. He looked at Henry, his eyes gleaming. The splendor of it all made him mad. Ripping a curtain off the hinges, he knotted it into a sack and started throwing things inside.
"But if the master were to come..." Henry started.
"The master? There is not a proprietor of this residence. Can not you see this place? Open your eyes and look at this utopia. It was left here for us to clean it dry of all its fruits. This place is ours." Cliffton continued to rummage through the furniture and take things that interested him. Then, a voice so loud and shrill came from somewhere in the darkness, startling them both. It said: "I can not believe that this place belongs to you, when I live here."
"Who is there? Show yourself!"
"I indeed shall show myself." They watched as a tall woman who looked to have not seen her twenties emerged from the shadows. She had a slender face with large brown eyes and long, copper hair that fell around her in ringlets. Henry's heart started pounding. The girl looked to have belonged to an important family, by the way her dress was fashioned from beautiful, vibrant silks and cottons. Jewels hung from her neck and pierced her ears. They glittered in the moonlight, making her look angelic.
"We are sorry Signora for intruding but we are mere English beggars who have went more than a fortnight without shelter or subsistence."
"There is no need for an explanation on my account signor. Please, take what you want, I shall not need it after I am dead and gone."
"Very well then. Let us finish, Henry."
"No, I think we should assist the lady whose parsonage we are robbing."
"Excellent strategy, my friend. If we leave her alive she'll surely cause some trouble. Quick, find me something to..."
"I did not mean kill her, you fool. Look at her, she's crying or if not tears are falling down her cheeks now, then they are on the precipice of her eyes."
"Well you, as you said, assist her and I'll finish my job."
Nodding, Henry slowly advanced towards the girl, hoping not to frighten her. She only looked at him and didn't stir. Instead of a scream, a sigh broke free from her wet lips and then she started to walk around the room. He followed, admiring her from a distance. His early portrait of her wasn't an accurate one, for it was flawed and dull. She was more than just a girl who looked to have belonged to an important family but her face was filled a distress that he recognized. It was one of longing and fear. He had seen it in himself when he was governed by hunger and when the polizia would chase or beat him. The light caught her fingers, they were clenched around a rosary, and her pale skin was tainted with a strange shade of crimson. Blood? Had this woman killed someone? Henry's mind raged, but then he didn't want her to get overwhelmed and scream, so he continued to follow her around the room. She stopped and then the beads fell from her hands and crumbled to the floor.
"Signora?"
Mimicking the beads, the girl fell to her knees and buried her face in her legs. She was sobbing now, her body was shaking and Henry could see a blood trail falling down her arm. Approaching her, he wondered what he should do.
"Signora, what is wrong?"
"I am fine." she started, sniffling. Henry could hear the lie in her voice.
"Please, if it will lift your burdens, tell me what it is that is troubling you."
The sobs and the shaking stopped, and then the girl wiped her face on her sleeve and looked up at Henry. He held his hand out to her and she took it and led him to a corner of the room with two chairs. She ordered him to light a fire and he obeyed and then the two sat down.
"I don't want to bore you, are you sure?"
"Yes, please, go on."
"Before, this castello was bright and lively and beautiful. It was not this ruin that you see now."
"You are very fortunate to have lived in a place such as this."
"No, I am not."
Henry did not hear the girl's low remark. Instead his mind ventured off into another place. He imagined that music was playing, singing a melodic melody to the walls giving it a golden pallor. He envisioned servants, who came whenever you called them and the air would be filled with freedom.
"I would never leave this place." he thought, aloud.
"I couldn't wait to escape from it."
