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Post by rene2 on Oct 14, 2012 8:19:15 GMT -8
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Stories. He had many stories, some more traditional and some hundreds of years old, passed down as old folk tales and myths. Those were the ones he liked best; the ones he grew up with in Hong Kong, the ones about dragons and other mythological Chinese beasts. The others were more modern, and often from Europe, but Tristam liked to pick them up, and his Commandramon had commented that he had a knack for storytelling. That storytelling contest seemed a fine a thing as any, and why not? He had one he’d like to tell.
“I suppose I have one to tell.” His Commandramon seemed at the ready as well, having heard this story once before.
”There was once a young man by the name of Lir. No, not Lear from Shakespeare’s play, mind. You see, poor Lir was stuck in an unfavourable engagement with a woman his parents had chosen. Though she was pretty, she was anything but docile. No; Maggie, as her name was, came from a very military family. She was unconventional; blond hair cropped very short, wearing nothing but military uniforms, and always armed, as her whole family was. She was stern and cold, spending much of her time polishing her guns or out doing her favourite hobby.” At that point, there was an ominous and unmistakable click as his Commandramon loaded up his assault rifle. ”Hunting for deer.”
”Maggie was obviously not at all pleased with her arrangement either. Though Lir wasn’t happy, he didn’t try to resist this engagement, thinking it was for the best. Besides, being as quiet and trusting as he was, he wasn’t going to contest his parents on the matter. But it seemed that the more accepting he became of the fact that he was now engaged and to be wed in a year or so, the less Maggie was willing to cooperate. She did have times when she was very friendly, but most of the time she remained politely indifferent. Poor Lir thought he’d be stuck in an unhappy marriage for the rest of his life.
One night, there was a knock at his door, and there was Maggie standing on his step. “Would you like to go for a walk?” She asked, and he was grateful to accept. He heard that she often went for late night walks, and he thought it’d be a good chance to soften her up by joining her.
So they took their little stroll; Lir followed Maggie where she went, figuring she knew her way around much better than he did. After all, she grew up around these woods, and she lead him deeper and deeper. The trees and bushes seemed to part for her, recoiling, the low branches gliding clean off her immaculate uniform and not daring to touch her. Meanwhile, Lir was having quite a lot of trouble. They snatched at his hair and sleeves, the roots tripping him and the thorns digging into his skin.
“Where are we going?” He called out after her, but she didn’t answer. “Maggie? Please, slow down!” But again, she acted like she didn’t hear him. They were walking so far from the path now, into the deep tangle of thicket that he would’ve never dared venture into if he were alone. Please let her know where she was going, he thought.
Finally, he thought he had enough. “Maggie!” He called, and finally, she seemed to hear him. She turned, and she had a certain glint in her cold blue eyes that made him feel as if he were suddenly a mouse staring down a hungry cat. “Maggie?”
“Isn’t it so nice out tonight, dearest?” An affectionate pet name seemed so out of place, and sent a shiver down his spine as he backed away from his fiancée. He questioned her, but every time, he got a similar ominous reply. “Tell me, dearest, how good is your night vision? Dearest, how quiet are you when you run?”
Backed against a tree, he no longer had anywhere to go. “Maggie, what are you doing?” He finally cried in panic.
There was another mechanical, metallic clatter as the Commandramon cocked his rifle. ”Maggie leaned in close. “I’m hunting for deer.”
The click of her gun was all he needed. Everything blurred. He ran blindly through the woods, unsure of which way he was heading and uncaring if the twigs pulled his clothes and hair or if the gnarled roots reached to grab the cuffs of his pants. He stumbled, sightless and confused by which way was which. Every tree, every rock and every bush all looked the same. And he could hear her. The steady, heavy footsteps. The rustle of the leaves as they parted like the Red Sea in the approach of such a woman. Such a monster. The boughs reached for him and tried to hold him down, while they recoiled as if the mere presence of Maggie burned them.
He heard it long before he felt it.
The Commandramon suddenly let a shot ring out into the air, aiming his rifle at the sky to make certain he didn’t hurt anybody. The sound of his fire rang and echoed, fading to nothing.
”Poor Lir collapsed in a heap, already exhausted from the running, and a bullet through his knee not helping him at all. He tried to get back up, but Maggie grabbed him by the collar, hauling him shakily to his feet and pinning him to a tree. He never remembered her being so strong. “You aren’t very good at this.” The blond woman hissed in his face. “Most deer last longer.”
Oh yes, Lir begged with her to spare him. He wouldn’t tell anybody, he cried. He would do whatever she asked of him; call off the wedding, cater to her every whim and demand, but her smile grew. “With most deer, I do a summary execution. Quick and painless, you see. You’d like that, would you?”
He tried to protest, but he was silenced by the muzzle of a gun in his mouth. “Good night, dearest.”
BANG. The Commandramon fired another round into the air, this time much louder, and the echo lasted for ages. As it faded, Tristasm had a small smile on his face… done, supposedly. Only not yet. He continued.
”And so Maggie was free. She no longer had a fiancé to worry over, but fate seemed to really have it in for such a bold lady. Or, perhaps, her aunt was just being sassy, and arranged yet another marriage for her unwedable niece after her previous fiancé mysteriously disappeared. Of course; if one disappeared, just get another one. In fact, keep getting Maggie hitched until one of them survived. That was the perfect plan, wasn’t it?
It didn’t matter how different they were; didn’t matter if one was a redhead and one was blond, if one came from a middle class family and one came from unimaginable wealth, if one was blue eyed and the other green, if one was named Noah and the other Lir.
As soon as Maggie came through that door, all she saw was Lir.”
“And that’s the end.” Tristam finally finished, that small smile still gracing his lips. His Commandramon saluted in finality, having done his job. His story was finished… what an interesting little tale he’d told. He heard it from a friend of a friend of his; someone by the name of Magnus, who liked to hunt deer in the dark.
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