Chapter 2: Unraveled

Quincey opened the creaky wooden door to a quivering breeze rushing past his face.
Nature was oddly silent, producing no earthly sounds for man and creature to enjoy. Clouds
fumbled in the air until the sun was hidden from view. Shadows teased the Harken house and
Quincey was the first to find out why as a dart missed its mark and stuck into the wood of the
large door frame. An accidental miss it would seem, a letter connected to the dart would prove
otherwise.
Quincey scanned the darkness of the tree line for a gentle hint from nature as to where the
threat had originated. There was none, just a stillness that created anxiety in the air. He took
down the dart and tucked it away for later inspection. The cheerful banter of Saine and Sydney
enjoying the cake and teasing from the other room kept only Quincey and Teresa privy of what
just transpired. He passed her with a charming smile and continued into the privacy of his room
to read the note.
Teresa told the boys not to make a mess, which they obeyed obediently by doing just the
opposite as soon as their loving mother was out of view.
“Who was it darling? Was it Demetri? I did ask for some medicine to take care of…” She
stopped mid sentence after seeing a growing gloom in her husband’s eyes which he was never
known to show.
Quincey simply held up the ominous parchment for Teresa to see and at that very moment her
skin grew very pale. Her eyes started to grow glassy with an indescribable sorrow. On the
parchment was an elaborate insignia that was similar to those with the fedora only grander and
more importantly, was marked with the capital letter “B”; in short, a death sentence.
Quincey had felt like the very jaws of death were creeping around him to swallow him
up. Crunching on his bones and crushing his heart against granite. The letter stood for Bane; a
master of hatred, bringer of pain and servant of none. Everyone would say he is the human form
of evil incarnate. Why nature had not stamped him out sooner is a mystery to all those who have
fallen by his hand. The inhabitants of Pilton were safe from his wickedness due to Bane being
from Miscovnoy in the far west.
A barren and desolate area where only the toughest can survive, no one can thrive in a
land so dark in history and presence. As evil as his reputation preceded him, it was matched only
by his lust to make others suffer and bleed until death gave sweet release. Bane had a distaste for
death. For it always took away his pleasure; it took away the look of destruction so complete in
the eyes of his victims. In no language is there a word strong enough to convey the hurt he has
caused the human race. There were rumors of what he looked like but none could be taken
seriously. His instruments of death had no boundary.
Once, it was said that he had wondered outside of Miscovnoy to seek more innocent souls
to plague. He happened upon a man and a woman of only their early twenties. To discuss what
happened next would be to take ones hand, reach down the esophagus and rip out one’s own
stomach and pour the stomach acid on the heart.
When Quincey and Teresa had been young lovers they had heard of a tyrant reigning in a
winter land that caused such suffering. They took the advice with a bit of salt but respected the
advice none the less. For they too had heard the stories around the peaceful lake town in which
they grew up. They were so far away that it was surely fact that nothing of the such could bother
them. This hope was sent away on a boat and burned.
“Surely this must be a falsehood; perhaps someone is trying to scare us? This cannot be real, it
cannot!” Teresa was almost stumbling over her words.
She was the most graceful person in all of Pilton, certainly the most beautiful but this was too
much for her.
“How can the hands of fate be so cruel?” She wondered in vain.
It was so surreal that the room seemed to blur in a mixture of colors. She calmed down
and waited for the cheerful reassurance from her beloved husband.
Quincey started thinking quickly about what actions to take.
“My wife, my heart beats for you and you must calm down. I want you to take our children and
we will head to New Saunter immediately.” His tone was troubled but loving. He had the utmost
love and respect for Teresa and would see that every part of his body crushed before a hair on
here was agitated to the slightest degree. He ran his fingers through her hair angelic hair in a
slow and steady fashion.
Saine and Sydney had just finished eating when Saine had shouted a desire to open presents.
Teresa cleared the stream of tears off of her face and collected herself for her children’s sake.
Quincey grabbed her hand just before she went out to meet the boys and said,
“Pack them now; there is not a second to be wasted.”
She nodded and walked away to do what she could to help.
“Mom, I want to open my presents now!” Cried Saine with exuberance.
Teresa choked back tears.
“Listen, we will open presents later. We are going to pick up Lilly.”
“Awww, I don’t want to wait.” Complained Saine.
“Gather your things and hurry, we mustn’t be late.” Rarely had her sons heard her talk with this
seriousness and it motivated them to obey.
Quincey prepared himself for escape and if need be, battle. On the outside, clouds were growing
in number and time seemed to be moving with no mercy. The breeze had turned to an angry gust
that could not seem to decide if it should be continuous or just despise people intermittently.
Quincey put on his chest armor under his white and gray attire and packed himself and his wife a
minimal travel sac. He had no time think or even for feelings.
Only his instinct of protection and love was guiding him now. Fear had tried to grip his
heart but he fought it off, for his family’s sake. After getting two days worth of clothes for
himself and his wife he checked to see how things were coming for Teresa and his sons. They
were just finishing getting everything packed. When they had finished they were standing by the
door ready to go.
“Why are we in such a hurry daddy?” asked Sydney
“Because!” He said with energy.
“We must remember that Lilly will want to see all of us the second she arrives! We don’t want to
keep her waiting on her birthday.”
“But, why are we going so early? And isn’t she going to get a ride from the large howses like
always?” Said Sydney.
Teresa smiled at Sydney’s attempt to say horses.
And it gave her some relief and pushed this danger further away, if only momentarily.
“I wanted to surprise her ourselves! Quick, if we are early enough we can get a special treat from
town!” Said Quincey.
 Both Saine and Sydney’s eyes grew wide with excitement because they knew it meant
their favorite cream filled sugary confection from the bakery in town. As they ran to the door it
started to rain lightly, a solemn drizzle.
As they started there walk to town they reached no more than twenty seconds from their
home when several dark figures stepped out of the tree line. They had been lying down flat and
still as ghosts. They wore fedoras with the same markings as the one in the letter; the markings
stood out on their dark black leather clothing because these markings were blood red. Each
gracefully rose and stalked forward slowly with the leader being slightly over six feet, muscular
and large. A feeling of extreme fear finally gripped Quincey as he and his family stepped
backwards slowly towards the house.
A voice cracked like lightning and sent thunderous shivers down the spine of Saine,
Sydney and Teresa.
“Your next step…. will be the last time you use that limb.” Sneered the leader; haughtiness lined
his voice, a hissy, deep and terrible voice.
Quincey was getting ready for the inevitable struggle; he could see that there were five men plus
the leader. Quincey was discerning that the odds were not terrible if the skill of these fighters
were similar to those he had faced earlier but an irking feeling warned him that they were in a
superior class.
“What is your business with us?” Said Quincey, while keeping a weary hand on the hilt of his
hand made blade.
The leader inched forward and now it could be seen that the man was none other than…
“I am Bane, I was on leisurely business here and you rudely denied my request. You also killed
one of my own men, very disrespectful of you Mr. Harken.” Said Bane in a voice most
pretentious.
Quincey was in shock, he could not believe his luck. This monster of a being was the
master the foul man had spoke of? Quincey kissed his wife and his children who by now were
trembling where they stood with tears and snot running down Saine and Sydney’s noses. They
screamed for their daddy to make these men go away. Bane gave them a scowling look that cut
through them like razors to which Quincey stepped in front of them.
He whispered to Teresa to take the children back inside the house and to throw
everything they could against the windows and doors to lock themselves in and should they get
the chance to escape out the back. Teresa followed his request despite a terrible pang clawing
away at her heart. With all the courage she could muster she jolted her children way from this
violence.
He was shaking off the effects of disbelief and withdrew his sword which curved in a defiant
arch against the looming threat.
One menacing tall thug stepped forward. He stood to the left of Bane and decided that he
would take this defiant man’s life. The others stayed still and held rank. He was different from
the rest with an exception to Bane in that he carried only one sword as well. As he drew his
blade, Quincey noticed the exceptional steel work and an exceptionally large blood groove.
“You know why we have come, we will take your blade and now we will take your life for your
disrespect.” Hissed the malevolent minion.
“I apologize as I meant no disrespect but to order me to create weapons that will be used for
meaningless slaughter is something I will not do no matter who you are.” Quincey was firm in
his voice and was ready to fight to the death.
And with that, the leather clad man rushed forward, shifted to the left and struck down
hard and quick. From inside the house Teresa had barricaded her and her children in and she
made Saine watch the back door and Sydney was to stay in his room until he was called. That
lasted for less than a couple seconds. Saine would glance over to see how his father was doing.
When the chance came that they were not being watched they would make a run for it.
The loud clashes of steel on steel seemed to excite the rain because it picked up and the
wind started to howl. Quincey was impressed at the level of skill in his opponent; it had been a
long time since he had been challenged in skill. The cadence of clanking metal would be slow
then fast and each strike more unbearable for Teresa who was struggling to keep her tears inside.
She held onto Sydney, who was shouting for his dad to win and beat the bad guy. She tried to
quiet him down but he had an indomitable spirit that would not be quelled. Suddenly the
clanking stopped. After cunning attempts to slice into Quincey, the thug was impelled in his rigid
torso by Quincey’s valiant blade.
Bane showed a despicable expression in his face which formed into a grin and sent two
more of his men after Quincey. They were less in skill but still better than those he had fought
earlier. One sliced into Quincey’s arm after several minutes of speedy hacking and slashing. It
was very light and hardly bleeding as Quincey had seen it coming and deemed it necessary so he
could get close enough to stab one with an upward angle right into his neck. Not severing it but
enough to give him a fair send off to his end.
With one down, the other changed his tactics and became deadlier. He would try to
distract Quincey with one blade while searching for a way to create a large, gaping wound with
the other. His moves were over used to Quincey and so he formulated a strategy mid battle. As
this devilish character struck, he was countered in such a way that Quincey forced his opponent’s
own blade down to block the other and allow him time to give a finishing slice. The minion
dropped to the ground to become one with the earth again.
Bane stepped forward and his minions disappeared. Quincey was tiring, worried and
weary but on the outside he was calm, collected and cold. Bane drew his long and exotic blade. It
started as one sword but near the end had split into three separate bladed tips. Gems were
encrusted on the scabbard which was crusted over with blood and time. Quincey changed his
stance for a quick offensive advantage. Bane struck with amazing force but his accuracy was not
as proficient as Quincey’s nor was his timing.
A scream cut through the rain drops and the blazing fighting. Bane gave a black toothed
grin while Quincey retreated with the speed of light back to the house. On the other side he saw
Saine being held with a Dagger to his throat and blood trickling down his chin from a small
vertical incision on his left cheek. Quincey leaped into position to strike but was forcefully
holding himself back for Teresa’s and Sydney’s sake.
Teresa and Sydney were trapped in the house by the other shady figure. Bane had then
caught up to Quincey.
“Throw down your sword if you wish for the life of your loved ones to be spared.” Pretention
never ceasing in his voice.
Quincey was smart however, he knew that no matter what happened or what Bane said, a life
would be taken. So he intended that it be his.
“Call your man out of the house, and leave his place and you can have my sword and my life.”
Said Quincey coldly.
Teresa was now trembling with anxiousness and Sydney was crying profusely by her
side. Saine was watching with growing anger towards this malignant man who had come to do
his family harm for no good reason. He didn’t understand why his dad did not just cut him down
then and there. The thought of losing his dad shredded him into bits and so he started to weep.
Bane pondered over the arrangement and came to an agreement of sorts in his head and
agreed to Quincey’s terms.
Quincey disarmed himself after Teresa and Sydney were free of the minions grasp, who
now stood next to Bane with an evil cold expression.
“Now free my son.” Said Quincey
“You said nothing about your son.” Snicked Bane.
Quincey was filled with horror, the stories were true and things were going to end much
worse than he had anticipated. Quincey looked into his wife’s beautiful brown eyes and gave her
one last mental embrace. In the flash of a second, a moment in time that will never be forgotten,
Quincey kicked up his sword, threw his scabbard at Bane without turning back to face him and
speared Saine’s captor straight in the throat.
The evil man fell over and sprayed blood into the air, much of it landing on Saine as if a
kind of baptism of blood, it covered him. Stomach churning shock was the only expression that
could be seen on Saine’s face. His dad had been pierced through his stomach while he tried to
stop the blade with his bare hands.
He now clasped Bane’s sword in both hands and he pulled out the blade. Bane sheathed
his blade and Quincey turned towards Saine and slowly fell to his knees. With all his strength he
managed an eye level smile with a tear starting to stream down his cheek. Then, in the next
instance of eternity he collapsed and Saine rushed to his father in spite of Bane’s roaring
laughter. Quincey was gasping for air and spoke one breathy sentence to his son before he shut
his eyes for sleep.
“Smile at the cracks” And with that, he heaved his final breath, dying in his young son’s hands.
Hands of which were now stained with blood. He burst into tears as he held his father.
Saine was rocking back and forth speaking to him, trying to talk him back to life. It was useless.
Bane kicked Saine off of Quincey and caused a concussion.
Saine lay on the grass with his face pointing towards his once peaceful home filled with
joy. The house seemed distant, in this distance he heard his mother scream as she was dragged
out of the house fighting as best she could. Bane kicked her legs so she was on her knees a
couple feet away from her beloved Quincey who she mourned for indescribably. She turned
lovingly to Saine and forced a smile with prodigious strength.
“Have courag…” She was smacked down by the butt of Bane’s scabbard.
Bane lifted her head up by her long magnificent hair which was as pretty as ever. He
withdrew his dagger and forced his minion to hold Saine up to watch the execution of his only
surviving parent. Saine was half conscious and screaming as best he could. Would no one save
them?
Her death could have been quick but that was not Bane’s style. He slowly slit her throat
and she screamed in pain as the blood drained down the front of her. Her eyes fluttered and
closed like the lid of a coffin. Bane mercifully let go of her limp body and she and the rest of her
blood spilled into the earth.
Saine kicked the minion and sprang for his mother of whom he could not pick up because
the cut that was so gruesome that he puked on the ground away from her. Instead he laid on top
of her, holding her lifeless hands in his with his head to her chest. She was still warm, it was the
last hug he would ever be able to give her. His tears, snot and hatred were taking away his ability
to breathe properly. Bane walked towards the house casually and used some excess furniture to
barricade the doors from the outside. He lit a pipe and threw it into the house along with a match.
 Saine was again held by the minion and was overwhelmed to see his house that was his
last claim to this place being burnt away and that is when it hit him like an iron beam to the back
of the head. His brother was still in there. Saine started to recover enough from his injury that he
could see through blurry tears his brother standing at the window begging for help.
Sydney’s hands were touching and pushing on the glass while fire started consuming the
cottage.
“Saine! Mommy! Daddy! Helwp! It is gewtting very hot in here! It hurts!” Said Sydney with
staggered breathes and tearing eyes that started to burn, as black smoke rose to the sky.
Saine screamed at the top of his lungs for Sydney to get out, to run, anything but under his own
strength Sydney could do nothing. He beat against the glass and tried to push the doors open.
Sydney’s cries for help were snuffed out by the smoke and Saine watched what will be
forever seared into this mind. Sydney slowly slumped over while looking at his big brother. His
hand slipped from the glass and then the roof collapsed. He had failed to save his brother.
Bane enjoyed every second of it like it was electric ecstasy. His skin crawled with
electricity and excitement. He had not had this much fun for a very long time. Saine could not
stop sobbing and Bane couldn’t get enough. Bane took Quincey’s blade and holstered it to his
left side with little care. He removed a wicked vile from his coat and poured it over his dagger.
Bane ripped open the back of the Saine’s long sleeve coat and through his shirt carved a
crude capital “B” into his back.
“You should thank me, it will be over for you soon and you can join your family in hell.
Everyone will know what happened here when they recover your body.”
He gave a hissy laugh and knocked Saine over, unconscious in a pool of his family’s
blood, left to his death. The rain could not stop the inferno of the house. The wind only helped to
fan the flames. The ground was soft and sullen. The house burned and burned until it was a pile
of smoky rubble, holding the ashes of the innocent.