HOME | DD

Description
(Story continued from She Walks Away From You )

Weeks have passed since you were dropped back off at the hut that Dyani had made your permanent home, and while you have no intention of going anywhere, you have prayed daily for her safety, and the safety of your daughter, and that somehow they might show up to be with you. But as each week has passed, the silence, the loneliness, has only grown wearisome for you, as has the uncertainty of the war that has been taking place. On occasion you can hear the sounds of gunfire in the distance, and it is not the sound of any hunting party. You know exactly what it is, and the thought that there is war and not peace fills you with horror and dread.

The winter solstice has nearly come, and you had hoped to celebrate Christmas with your wife and your baby girl, whose name you do not even know. You wanted to find some way to decorate the hut, but your grief has prevented you from doing even this. You've only taken to busying yourself with gathering firewood for what could possibly be a harsh winter, as far as you know, and whatever bounty you can store up to prepare for food for yourself.

It's the middle of the night when you wake with a start. You hear rustling outside of the hut, and think some creature or other must be rooting around your belongings, seeing what it can find for itself. But the talking that ensues...your heart begins pounding in your throat. The fire has diminished to glowing embers, but there's no use now...they already know someone has been living here. And they are not Cherokee or any other Native, but American. The flap closing the hut opens abruptly, and three crude-looking men walk right on in, torches in hand. Behind them comes a very corpulent man with a pock-marked face, clearly the leader.

"Well, well, boys, see here," he says with a smile on his disgusting face. "I think we found him at last."

You sit up with a start. Under your blanket, your hunting knife is tucked away safely, and you grab it cautiously, in a way so that they don't sense that you are holding it.

"Don't make any moves, lad," the fat man says. "I wanted to thank you, that's why I've been searching all over for you."

"Thank me?" you ask incredulously. "How'd you even know I was out here?"

"How couldn't I? The whole town has been talking about you, boy, especially that very sick mother of yours. Hopefully dead by now, though I couldn't really care less one way or the other." He bellowed a sickening laugh from his ugly belly, which rolled and jiggled as he did. You keep your rising anger in check, knowing that lashing out would have dire consequences. "And besides, I found out about you long ago, thanks to that band of savages we caught. Seems you've done very well for yourself out here. Chief's sister, eh?" He whistled.

At the mention of your wife, your cheeks flush in anger. You can't stand the fact of this pig even making so much as the slighest mention of Dyani.

"That's right. Without you getting caught out here, none of this here war would've ever happened. Why, thanks to you, poor, helpless victim of the Injuns that you are, you've made me ten times richer than I ever was! Innit right, boys?"

His men smile and snicker in response.

"So, this is your doing, then?" you ask, the anger rising in your voice, which is hoarse from thirst. "This whole war and everything? Murdering just to steal and make more money, no matter who has to die?"

"These red men don't matter," he says, slowly moving his way around the hut, picking at things here and there with his sausage-like, nicotine-stained fingers. "The world would be a better place without the savage man. Everything he has belongs to us, and with this war, we're just making everybody aware of the fact."

"You bastard!" you cry, and suddenly lunge forward. One of the men takes the opportunity and kicks you down hard with his boot. You grasp the side of your face, wincing in terrible pain.

"Shut that dirty mouth, boy!" he says as he takes out a pocket knife, its gilded hilt gleaming in the torchlight. "I'm here to tie up loose ends. Can't have you running about and talking, now can I? Once you're out of my hair, and the men of this region and the Injuns have butchered each other, we swoop on in. It's a beautiful thing!"

He didn't get the chance to use the knife, as the hand that held it abruptly dropped it, an arrow sticking right through it. He screamed in pain, falling to his knees and grasping at his hand. The others of his gang turned immediately to look outside of the hut.

"What is it?" he barked at them.

"You won't believe it, boss," one of the henchmen said, stunned. "It's that Injun princess we was just talkin' 'bout!"

Dyani! Your heart leaps in your mouth. She's here! She's actually come! In spite of the pain from that hard kick, you've found your hope rekindled.

The men stroll out of the hut, while the gang's ringleader glances up at you, preparing himself to do what he came here to do. From outside, you can hear the commotion as the men whistle at your wife, who apparently has come with very minimal clothing, and baring her breasts.

"My, my! Those are some nice ripe pippins, ready for the pluckin'! Hey, boy, I think I'll help myse--"

The man never had a chance to finish his sentence before Dyani had shot an arrow right through his throat. He reeled a few moments, attempting to grasp at it as he began choking, falling at last to the soggy ground. The remaining two men looked on in horror at their companion. Knowing now that playtime was long over, they moved in to kill.

(To be continued... )

Description
(Story continued from She Walks Away From You )

Weeks have passed since you were dropped back off at the hut that Dyani had made your permanent home, and while you have no intention of going anywhere, you have prayed daily for her safety, and the safety of your daughter, and that somehow they might show up to be with you. But as each week has passed, the silence, the loneliness, has only grown wearisome for you, as has the uncertainty of the war that has been taking place. On occasion you can hear the sounds of gunfire in the distance, and it is not the sound of any hunting party. You know exactly what it is, and the thought that there is war and not peace fills you with horror and dread.

The winter solstice has nearly come, and you had hoped to celebrate Christmas with your wife and your baby girl, whose name you do not even know. You wanted to find some way to decorate the hut, but your grief has prevented you from doing even this. You've only taken to busying yourself with gathering firewood for what could possibly be a harsh winter, as far as you know, and whatever bounty you can store up to prepare for food for yourself.

It's the middle of the night when you wake with a start. You hear rustling outside of the hut, and think some creature or other must be rooting around your belongings, seeing what it can find for itself. But the talking that ensues...your heart begins pounding in your throat. The fire has diminished to glowing embers, but there's no use now...they already know someone has been living here. And they are not Cherokee or any other Native, but American. The flap closing the hut opens abruptly, and three crude-looking men walk right on in, torches in hand. Behind them comes a very corpulent man with a pock-marked face, clearly the leader.

"Well, well, boys, see here," he says with a smile on his disgusting face. "I think we found him at last."

You sit up with a start. Under your blanket, your hunting knife is tucked away safely, and you grab it cautiously, in a way so that they don't sense that you are holding it.

"Don't make any moves, lad," the fat man says. "I wanted to thank you, that's why I've been searching all over for you."

"Thank me?" you ask incredulously. "How'd you even know I was out here?"

"How couldn't I? The whole town has been talking about you, boy, especially that very sick mother of yours. Hopefully dead by now, though I couldn't really care less one way or the other." He bellowed a sickening laugh from his ugly belly, which rolled and jiggled as he did. You keep your rising anger in check, knowing that lashing out would have dire consequences. "And besides, I found out about you long ago, thanks to that band of savages we caught. Seems you've done very well for yourself out here. Chief's sister, eh?" He whistled.

At the mention of your wife, your cheeks flush in anger. You can't stand the fact of this pig even making so much as the slighest mention of Dyani.

"That's right. Without you getting caught out here, none of this here war would've ever happened. Why, thanks to you, poor, helpless victim of the Injuns that you are, you've made me ten times richer than I ever was! Innit right, boys?"

His men smile and snicker in response.

"So, this is your doing, then?" you ask, the anger rising in your voice, which is hoarse from thirst. "This whole war and everything? Murdering just to steal and make more money, no matter who has to die?"

"These red men don't matter," he says, slowly moving his way around the hut, picking at things here and there with his sausage-like, nicotine-stained fingers. "The world would be a better place without the savage man. Everything he has belongs to us, and with this war, we're just making everybody aware of the fact."

"You bastard!" you cry, and suddenly lunge forward. One of the men takes the opportunity and kicks you down hard with his boot. You grasp the side of your face, wincing in terrible pain.

"Shut that dirty mouth, boy!" he says as he takes out a pocket knife, its gilded hilt gleaming in the torchlight. "I'm here to tie up loose ends. Can't have you running about and talking, now can I? Once you're out of my hair, and the men of this region and the Injuns have butchered each other, we swoop on in. It's a beautiful thing!"

He didn't get the chance to use the knife, as the hand that held it abruptly dropped it, an arrow sticking right through it. He screamed in pain, falling to his knees and grasping at his hand. The others of his gang turned immediately to look outside of the hut.

"What is it?" he barked at them.

"You won't believe it, boss," one of the henchmen said, stunned. "It's that Injun princess we was just talkin' 'bout!"

Dyani! Your heart leaps in your mouth. She's here! She's actually come! In spite of the pain from that hard kick, you've found your hope rekindled.

The men stroll out of the hut, while the gang's ringleader glances up at you, preparing himself to do what he came here to do. From outside, you can hear the commotion as the men whistle at your wife, who apparently has come with very minimal clothing, and baring her breasts.

"My, my! Those are some nice ripe pippins, ready for the pluckin'! Hey, boy, I think I'll help myse--"

The man never had a chance to finish his sentence before Dyani had shot an arrow right through his throat. He reeled a few moments, attempting to grasp at it as he began choking, falling at last to the soggy ground. The remaining two men looked on in horror at their companion. Knowing now that playtime was long over, they moved in to kill.

(To be continued... )