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Chase sprang awake. He had dreamed of the death of his family and nasty creatures. Chase looked out his small doorway, a shadow, it flickered just enough to catch his eye. It was the middle of the night, no one would be up. He slowly got lifted himself off his straw mattress. He started moving toward his hunting knife on the small crude desk next to the door. The shadow flickered again. A faint rustling noise swept down the hallway. The pictures of his family dead from his dream flashed through his mind. He had reached the desk.
Chase reached for the knife, he took it up in his hand, the cool leather felt reassuring in his grasp. He took hold of the pommel and barely slid it out when it made a unmistakable metal against metal shreak. Chase froze, there was no doubt that the thing had heard it. The shadow froze. No noise. Then suddenly something crashed to the floor, Chase ripped the knife from its leather sheath. It was about five inches long, his grandfather had given it to him.
A door crashed shut, Chase ran out, the dining room was a mess, tables on their sides, drawers thrown about. He didn't stop, he ran the door was bouncing shut, he threw open the door and suddenly a fist appeared out of the black of the outdoors and hit him in the mouth throwing him back into the house. Chase groaned but didn't stop, he leaped up and ran out into the darkness. He heard a crack of a whip and a wagon racing out of the dirt road leading to his farm house.
Suddenly everything was illuminated by the moon, Chase was close to the wagon. He ran after it feeling blood trickled out of his mouth. The wagon lurched forward just as he reached for it. Chase fell behind it, rolling he got up and ran after it again. He was gaining on it the lone driver looked back, the driver was wearing a black cloak and had a sword at his hip.
Chase caught up to it and dived at it. He wrapped his arms around the back of the wagon, he stabbed the knife into the bottom of the wagon and started climbing in. a sudden jerk of the wagon and chase fell. He stole a look at the intruder and time seemed to slow, he hadn't been able to see the face of the intruder before, but what he saw now was like looking into death himself. The intruders face was all scared, it barely looked human, The eyes where black,and his mouth seemed to twist into a snout. Chase continued his fall staring at the smiling intruder. It was the crash on the ground that seemed to bring him out of his trance. He looked up, the wagon was driving madly out and it disappeared behind the bend in the road.
Marty, Chases oldest brother ran up to him. He had dark brown hair that was plastered to his forehead, he was extremely muscular. Marty stared down at Chase with his deep green eyes.
“Didn't get em?” Marty said with sadness.
Chase shook his head. He got up and wiped the blood from his lip and walked back to the house slowly with Marty.
They arrived to find Papa, Trudy, Chases fifteen year old sister, with her long wavy red hair, and bright green eyes filled with sadness at the sight of the dining room in which the entire family had helped build. Papa was surveying the destroyed room with mixed expressions. The back door swung open and Ben emerged. Ben was tall and lean, he was lighter almost yellow hair that was very fine, his Green eyes where still glazed with sleep.
“What happened?” Ben suddenly froze and slowly shrunk to the floor when he saw his prized chair, which he had carved with beautiful designs smashed against the wall.
“Well just sitting here isn't going to get this mess cleaned up.” Papa said hiding all emotions that he might be feeling.
“Who would do such a thing?” Trudy said picking up the leg of the table that Papa had made himself.
“Only a person who didn't care if others lost most of their possessions in a single night.” Papa answered.
Marty savagely punched the wall.
Papa suddenly stood anger filling his face.
“I will have none of that, Just because this has happened does not mean that we can give to our emotions. We are lucky that he only did this, imagine if he had taken or even killed one of us.” Marty's face fell with shame.
“Yes father.” He carefully put a drawer back into its correct cabinet.
“Besides, we have something to look forward too, don't we Chase?” Papa said letting a faint grin play across his face.
Chase only grunted in reply. He knew what it was, he was going to be prospected, tested, to find out what type he would be. He would finally gain his place among society and be pronounced a man. Inside, he was happy and exited, but he showed nothing of it outside.
Chase finished clearing up and walked to the bathroom. At least the bathroom is still intact. He thought as he looked in the mirror.
Chase was going to be sixteen tomorrow. He was of average height, with a lean build, He looked into his eyes, trying to find a answer to what he would be deemed as tomorrow in his Grey eyes. When he had found none, he took a washcloth and pressed it to his lip. His Dark brown hair was plastered against his forehead and he quickly dried it and he walked off to bed. He shut the door and let out a stream of curses. The knife was still in the wagon. The knife that his grandfather had given him while on his death bed. The sheath still lay there. Like a tiger without teeth. It was useless.
Chase climbed into his straw mattress and lay there until a fitfully sleep took hold of him.
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