Forever on the outside of society clothed in shadows and over looked by all, a figure stands leaning against a large old oak tree and still he was far older then thus tree. Darkness concealing his presence from all this night as he moves in darkness so has he lived for eons and will continue to live; if his plans succeed. A hard angular jaw becomes more stern as he watches the family, specifically the daughters; his mind spinning webs as he plans their future or lack their of. His delectable strong lips parting only slightly to taste the air as his expressions stayed neutral, black pupil-less eyes watch carefully from beneath long dark hair. The bushes, the shadows seem to accept him as if he was one of them, even as he moves soundlessly the shadows cover him perfectly.
No moon was in the sky and yet there was light as if a full moon was out, there was no clouds no obvious sign as to where the moon had gone and yet the light still remained. The air was brisk with fresh fallen rain upon the parched lush trees, even thirsty enough to leave no puddles on the thick abundant grounds. Yet another early spring night had drawn to an end, the Main House of the Clabaugh Plantation was fast asleep, but still there was a few Slaves mingling in the late evening. Their bon fires dwindling, children and mamas holding their beloveds like a life saver in an endless dark ocean. Their quarters were nestled back beyond the grape fields and the buildings used for mass production of the family winery. A twenty minuet walk from the front door to the very first slave house and not a straight line; little care was given by the land owners to maintain the support and shelter of the slave houses. Large aged Maple trees separated them from their master's viewing, but rarely out of site of their youngest child.
Clutching a small blanket around her young shoulders Véronique's slender ivory feet scampers over the wet luscious grass for her eyes not seen sleep yet that night; despite her masterful performance for her militant nanny. Her snores were now heard radiating from beneath her closed door as well as her brothers’ snoring and talking in their sleep that they had done all of Veronique’s life. With everyone tucked in to their expensive warm beds one child acted yet again on her instincts, hearing the far off sounds of drums, and the night breeze blowing in a mixture of scents through the large plantation home.
The young child could feel the music in the air making her imagination sore as it conjured up all sorts of wonderful images and feelings. Excitement bubbled within the child with hair like the darkness beyond the slave’s quarters, the darkest of areas that no one ventures to look in within the human soul. The tribal music’s drums beating floating on the cool fall breeze tantalizing the dark eyed youth, as her bare feet trend on the dew covered grass reaching finally the Slaves’ Quarters with dark eyes bright with giggles and wonderment.
Just as she breaks past the large trunks of the century old Maple trees her happiness is interrupted as a gasp escapes her lips as small hands finds her soft lips, stumbling back unclear as to what her eyes see backing up against a tree trunk. Her pulse racing as tears started to trickle from her lashes, her mouth moving feverishly but no sound came forth.
The dark skinned male had been beaten several times, his strong broad shoulders still trembling from the ordeal his body had just attempted. As he calms down the scars on his back became more noticeable and more gruesome; sweat glistened on his brow as he struggles to look up at the child. Blinking his eyes changes back to human, no longer reptilian his muscles relaxing as they return to their natural form. “I am not going to hurt you Véronique…” He winces as he fought to stand up, eyes on the frightened child.
The nude slave was not the only one trembling, Véronique stood there, froze against the tree staring with enormous dark eyes.
The male was exhausted; this was obvious even to a toddler, making several attempts to rise from his position. “Véronique you mus –“ His eyes adverted to the surrounding a strange fear in them as his expression grew with fear eyes shifting back to reptilian.
Reputedly there was a figure in front of the child; cold dead eyes staring into her own, Goosebumps grew upon the barely covered youth.
The male cries out, “Get away from her!” As a strange cry of pain escapes his large lips.
