I wrote this when I wasn't very good at writing yet so don't be surprised if it's bad. I found it in one of the files on my computer and decided to post it to see if it's as bad as I think it is. So tell me whatcha think. Am I good at short stories?
A piercing scream echoed through the dark bringing the woods to life. The young European soldier with a flaming torch slapped Ariel Carrat. The blow sent her to the cold hard ground. “Get up you dirty gypsy!” he screamed. When she refused, he raised the stubborn gypsy off the ground by her right arm. “Welcome to your death,”
Ariel spat in his face followed by saying, “’ee will pay for this, 'ee blasted devil.” With a yell of disgust, Rolf Delon O’ Cray threw her to the ground for a second time. With haste movement, the gypsy scrambled to her feet and took off running in the direction of the village. He threw down his torch as he ran and tackled her abrasively. “You futile waste of human flesh…if you had only left with your camp…I guess you really don’t have that much cunning as I thought.”
Indifferently, Rolf dragged Ariel to the entrance of the old catacombs. “Goodbye, Ariel, it was nice while it lasted huh?” With that, he threw her into the dark catacombs. The young gypsy landed abrasively on the ground. It was then that she perceived of the dead body lying next to her by the moonlight. Once again in fright she released a blood-curling scream; it echoed clamorously. The soldier laughed a victorious laugh.
“I hope ‘ee gets a deadly curse casted on ‘ee,” she screamed with all her might at the door as it clattered shut. Ariel clutched the ruby necklace dangling from her neck. She started chanting to the Heathen Gypsy God of Curses. It started out in whispers, but soon ended in a dementia scream. This continued until she was sated with a now hoarse voice. A dagger, one of her father’s was pulled out from between her breasts; she clutched it firmly. In anger towards the king’s soldier, Rolf Delon O’ Cray, she plunged the dagger into her abdomen.
The pain was so excruciating that Ariel yanked off the necklace and slammed it to the dirt floor. Her dark red blood covered it as she took her last abrasive breath. The ground started to shake causing the European soldier who was heading back to his cottage, to fall to the ground. “What the devil…?” he asked aloud. It started to pour down rain and lightning struck across the sky. As the wind started blowing fiercely, our young soldier was struck.
Set upon Rolf’s ancestors was the no love curse for Ariel Carrat’s heart had been broken.
Earlier that day:
Ariel Carrat, dressed in her bright colored dress and scarves, danced with a tambourine in hand. Swaying her hips and spinning in a circles keeping beat with each step. People, both peasants and nobles walked by throwing gold franks at her feet while her little sister, Matula quickly retrieved the coins with deftness of not getting in her sister’s way.
Rolf Delon O’ Cray pushed his way through the crowd of watching men and women. “You girl, stop,” he demanded. Ariel ignored the man who which she shared a furtively relationship. It astounded her that when she danced, the men would defend her from the king’s soldier’s by trying to block their paths, which they were doing.
Rolf used his staff to scare off the men and grabbed Ariel’s arm forcing her to stop her money raising. “There is to be no gypsy dancing in the town’s square.” She shrugged off this arm in thought. I am going to see how much he really loves me. Ariel picked up her dancing pace; she grabbed the European soldier's staff.
"Hey!" he shouted. She grabbed her purse, which held her money and took off running towards their meeting place.
The dancer ran into the safety of the woods with her lover.
"Ariel, you bad girl."
"For which, dancing or stealing 'ee symbol of aristocracy?"
"Both," Rolf said," I know you’re not very prudent."
Angrily, the young gypsy retorted, "I know, but 'ee want to know what 'ee people think of us?"
Ariel explained how one of the soldiers he worked with called her nothing but a pompous, avaricious, enthralled gypsy. "I am not one of those am I?"
This man hugged her consolingly as the name Ariel was called out from the mouth of the woods. Startled, she averted from Rolf and hesitated before she ran toward Matula's voice.
Ariel stood leaning against the jail looking out onto the rest of the village while having a conversation with her distressed mother. She was inside awaiting to be taken to the gallows for stealing money from a noblemen. The talk to dieing was making our young gypsy known as Ariel, very dejected.
"Ariel, I want 'ee to take me necklace," Esmeralda Carrat said, projecting the ruby necklace through the bars. Ariel took it from her mother's hand.
"Mother, I have something to recount to 'ee," the gypsy said sadly. “ I have gotten pregnant with one of the king’s soldiers child…I have to go.” She ran out of the village wearing the necklace in thought. How am I going to tell Rolf that I’m carrying his child? Would it fill him with jovialness like it had myself or would he have apathy; perhaps even exasperated?
By this time, the gypsy had arrived at the campground. Many of the gypsies were packing up to move on to another village, including Matula. “No, I can’t go,” Ariel, whispered to herself.
Ariel ran through the village to hers and Rolf’s meeting place, and he was there waiting for me. “Rolf, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”
Rolf kisses her on the cheek and asked, “ What is it Ariel?”
We’re going to…uh have a baby.”
The European soldier turned pale with shock and looked faint. She reached out to touch him, but he backed away. “You were supposed to just leave with the gypsies…not become pregnant, at least not until after you left with your gypsies.”
“I don’t understand, Rolf, why are you being like this?”
Ariel was so perplexed that all she could do was stand there inert.
“Ariel, I’m getting married in two weeks…you have to leave!”
“They are already gone…how could ‘ee lie to me?” She started to run off with a broken heart.
“Oh no, you come back here,” he yelled after the gypsy. Rolf tackled her.
The young gypsy hit her head on a rock and Ariel passed out cold. Rolf slung her over his shoulder. “You are not going to ruin things with your incredulous cunning and haste.”
The soldier carried her into his home and layed Ariel down on the bed. It was the exact place where he had first seen her, dancing outside the cottage.
Pushing the thought from his mind, Rolf drew out his sword and held it high above the gypsy. It looked as if all this European soldier’s problems were over, but he couldn’t bring the sword down. It had been her beauty that drew Rolf to Ariel Carrat. He couldn’t kill her for love stood in the way.
Suddenly, Ariel’s eyes opened and let out a little cry at the sight of the sword above her. “Go ahead if ‘ee is that resolute to get rid of me.”
Rolf put his sword away while saying, “ I may not be able to kill you, but I know where to put you.”
Rolf tied her hands and pulled the young gypsy out of the cottage. “No trying to escape,' Rolf instructed knowing she could easily. And Ariel did just as they reached the catacombs. She used his sword to cut the ropes when he wasn’t looking. Then this young gypsy picked up a log and bashed it over the soldier’s head.
Angrily, Rolf grabbed her by the neck and began to choke Ariel. A scream echoed through the dark bringing the woods to life.