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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1054531
Two kids lust after a girl and get more than they can handle.
The Student’s Tale

Once, long ago, when the touch of God almighty stretched across the seas to all men of the Earth, there was a small town known only as Weisterville. This small, humble town had invested in the norms of any town from the time. It possessed, within itself, a small town square where all could assemble to discuss the social nuances of the time and how they might deal with the poor harvest from the year before, a few blacksmiths, which, sadly, were seldom used, and a very large assortment of houses, big and small. Weisterville was very prosperous for its small size, the governor of the town was competent, and it sat on the edge of a high plateau overlooking the beautiful scenery of the land below. Weisterville was, essentially, perfection for any person craving the simplicity of a small town.
There was, however, one problem with Weisterville. This problem would seem very minor to men of modern ideals, such as ourselves, but at the time such a problem was seen as a monstrous disrespect to the Lord. In the center of the town there was an eerie emptiness, a vast void that pulled at one’s heart. Only after visits to several other towns could one identify this void. There was no temple, no shrine to God almighty, no way for men to come and praise the Giver of Life. An even more eerie sight was the townsfolk and their seemingly oblivious attitude toward the temple-less town they occupied. This strange defiance toward the Lord did not go unnoticed. The town was not seen as part of any nation, but as its own, lord-less country. It is here, in the small town of Weisterville, that the bizarre events of this story take place, for the townsfolk are about to draw another’s attention, an attention that no man who respects his own life could wish upon himself.
Young Mouse was the product of wealthy and rather inventive parents. The saying, in modern times, goes: “the rich get richer”, and as such, not only was Mouse very rich, he was also extremely attractive. Mouse flocked about the town with pure freedom. No man could stand in his way, for fear of his parents using their wealth as leverage against him. Naturally, this young, disturbed boy’s idea of fun usually involved the suffering of others. The scars of his hell raising were apparent in the town, in the form of a large hole burnt into the courthouse. Along with his striking good looks, Mouse possessed the ability to lie without ever thinking twice about it, and his deceit ran deep.
Mouse was accompanied by his long time companion, Godfrey. Godfrey was a gentle young man, sprouted from humble surroundings; he was seen as Mouse’s gentler side. Godfrey was not as attractive as Mouse, but his tongue was pure silver. He could woo a young girl to do anything he pleased with his words. One might sit and wonder how these two could ever be anything but enemies, one coming from a wealthy background, known to be a liar, and the other from humble parentage, known as a charmer. These two were together for the sole purpose of helping each other take any woman they desired to bed. With Mouse’s good looks, and Godfrey’s silver tongue, the two were a dangerous team. They only shared one common trait, lying, but this trait allowed them to be, not friends, but companions.
It was as normal day in the paradise of Westerville, the sun was out at its highest point, a soft breeze whispered through Mouse’s hair as he and Godfrey, in their normal Sunday routine, traveled to the tavern for a few afternoon drinks. Both were dressed rather modest, which was uncharacteristic of the tandem, usually dressing in the flamboyant colors that were seen as stylish during the time. They walked and joked with each other, just as any normal friends would do on a beautiful spring day.
As they approached the tavern they noticed that it was a little noisier than normal, and there was a large gathering of townsfolk. The two, never the ones to wait to hear any news, ran toward the crowd to see what all the fuss was about. Mouse, arriving first, let out an audible gasp, which was soon mimicked by Godfrey as he arrived on the scene. Standing in the middle of the ring of townsfolk was an impossibly beautiful woman. Her flowing hair was so blonde that one could call it white and fell to her shoulders under a wide brimmed hat. Her hair fell around her face, accenting her high cheek bones. Her skin held a slightly darker complexion than normal, proof that she spent much of her time outdoors. Mouse and Godfrey’s eyes followed every curve of her voluptuous body, which was covered by a not-so-modest dress that clung tight to her figure.
The thought, “She is mine,” came instantly to both of the young men. They caught each other’s eye and the sharp understanding of the other one’s thoughts became clear. Silently they both knew there would be a rivalry for this woman, a woman so beautiful that she was worth killing for. Only a slight twitch of Mouse’s eye showed his intent. If he gets in my way, thought Mouse, he will die.
The townsfolk soon grew tired of admiring the beautiful woman who, Mouse learned, was new to the town, and answered to the name of Walda. Godfrey and Mouse followed Walda inside the tavern, and sat at a strategically calculated distance from her, a pair of hawks sizing up their prey. Godfrey was the first to break the silence that came between the two from their mutual understanding of what was at stake.
“Don’t you think she might look even better sitting on the edge of a bed?” He waggled his eyebrows lasciviously.
Mouse was in no mood for joking. “She might, but don’t you worry my friend. I will soon find out.”
“I smell a challenge coming. I’ll wager you that new horse you received against my next two months pay that I get her in bed before you.” Godfrey, noticing Mouse’s serious demeanor, tried to keep his tone light.
Mouse smiled. “It’ll be the easiest money I’ve ever made. I’ll even let you have the first crack.”
In answer, Godfrey stepped out of his chair, and methodically approached the woman. Just as his mouth was opening to introduce himself a very large, very burly man sitting at the table directly behind Walda’s stood and turned to Godfrey. His expression was blank and he said no words, only stared as his eyes pierced through Godfrey, reaching down to the depths of his very soul.
Of course, how could I have not thought of the idea that she would be toting around a body guard, thought Godfrey, she certainly looks rich enough. Godfrey turned his attention away from Walda to her body guard.
“Excuse me kind sir. I meant no disrespect to the noble lady. I merely wished to introduce myself, and welcome her to our lovely town.” His smile dripped with sincerity.
“Let the poor boy be, Monte. I’m sure he will provide plenty of entertainment.” She put on a smile to match Godfrey’s.
Godfrey bowed deeply and sat in the chair across from her as Monte stood like a statue, overlooking the entire conversation.
“Excuse my rudeness madam. I am Godfrey, a local in the wonderful town of Weisterville.” Godfrey bowed his head again slightly.
Walda’s smirk was devious. “I am Walda, I have come here from a town I wish not to be named because I heard that what you say is true, and Weisterville is a wonderful town.”
“Then you have heard correct, and I believe that it has become even more wonderful with the addition of such a beautiful lady as yourself.”
“My, my, aren’t you a splendid little talker? To bad you don’t have the looks of your friend over there to go with it. It suggests that all you do is talk, hm?”
A slight smile came to Godfrey’s lips. It appeared as if this Walda would be formidable prey. “Although I do talk exceptionally well my fair lady, I possess other talents, and would savor the opportunity to prove to you my worth.”
“I am intrigued by your offer, Godfrey. Why don’t you meet me in the town square just after sunset. You can show me around this town of yours, and possibly prove to me your worth.” A seductive look passed across her face, but only for a moment.
“I would be honored to accompany such a beautiful woman. I will see you at sunset. Good day madam.” One thing Godfrey knew about seducing women was that once the date has been set, one must leave it there and not say anything more. It could possibly mess up the rhythm that one had created.
Godfrey strolled outside of the tavern and was soon joined by Mouse. “So, how did it go?” Mouse asked.
“I hope you have better luck than I did. That woman is very set in her ways.” Godfrey decided not to let Mouse know that he had succeeded in his goal, hoping, instead, the news would come from Walda, making the sting even worse.
“Well I suppose I will have to try my luck then. Are you heading home?” Godfrey nodded. “I will join up with you later. It’s time for me to play the waiting game.”
Mouse waited just outside the tavern, watching the townsfolk go about their business as Walda marched outside. Mouse expected her to walk past him so that he would be able to catch up to her and lay out his plan, but events did not unfold as he expected.
Walda stopped right next to him and looked him up and down. She gave him a little wink. “Well I believe I have just seen the reason why this town is so wonderful.” She extended her hand. “My name is Walda.”
Mouse bowed deeply over her hand and kissed it. “I am Mouse. It brings me great pleasure to make conversation with you my lady.”
“Oh, how I wish I could stay and talk, but my body guard, Monte, and I are late for an appointment with the governor. However, I would enjoy to further pursue this conversation later and see where things might lead. Perhaps you would like to meet me here, in the town square, just after sunset?” Walda’s smile showed no deceit.
“Madam, nothing would please me more than to do just that, and perhaps things will lead in the right direction.” Mouse did not possess the same knowledge of seducing women that Godfrey had, but it never cost him due to his money and good looks. Mouse could not believe his luck. His plan did not even have to be set in motion. The beautiful woman had come to him. The rich do, after all, get richer.
Mouse headed back toward his large home just on the edge of the town’s limits and found Godfrey sitting on the fence feeding Mouse’s new horse.
“Good afternoon, my friend!” Godfrey called out. “I hope your devious plan played out better than mine.”
“I could only wish. That woman is impossible.” Mouse, also, did not wish to let his friend know of his success, knowing that he would be at the town square to shop for his family later, and he would, no doubt, see Mouse with Walda.
“Oh well, not to worry, we will both get our fair share of chances. I assume the wager is still on?” Godfrey was petting the horse now.
“On until it is completed, my friend.” Mouse looked off into the distance as a figure grew from the horizon, heading towards them.
“Who might that be? You aren’t expecting anyone are you?” Godfrey inquired.
“Not that I know of.” As the figure came closer he started to become more familiar. “I think that is the big man that was with Walda.”
“Oh yes, Monte.” Godfrey said, finally recognizing him. “I wonder what he could possibly want. Perhaps we should go out to greet him.”
The two slowly walked out to greet the man. He held up his hand before they could start the niceties. “I do not have much time, so I will talk and you will listen. Is that clear?” His voice was strong, forceful. The two young men nodded. “Both of you are treading in deep, unknown waters and soon the sharks will feed. Your sinful ways have brought you the material baubles that you desire, but they do not do you justice. Your lust runs deep in your veins, and, for your own sake, I suggest you find a way to run it through, because soon someone will bring justice unto you.”
“Do you speak of Walda?” Mouse asked, amused.
“I speak of the Lord.” Monte’s response was firm and loud. “God almighty watches over all of his people, and he looks down in disappointment on your town. Your foolish attempts to bed Walda will bring you nothing but pain. I ask you, I beg of you, please turn back now, leave this town, leave this unholy place and repent for your sinful ways.” Monte turned and made to leave. “I have given you my warning, take it or you will surely be punished. Do not try and follow me, do not tell anyone of our meeting here.” With that, he turned and left.
Mouse stood for a moment in thought, then laughed ruefully, patted his friend on the back, and walked into his house. Godfrey, however, did not laugh. He stood for long moments after his friend had gone, watching the point where the burly man had disappeared on the horizon. After a long while he gave up on thinking of what the man had said and laughed to himself as he walked up to the door of his friend’s home.
Mouse’s mother answered the door. “Oh hello, Godfrey. I’m sorry, but Mouse is in his room cleaning up. He said he needed to get ready for a meeting after sunset in the town square with that new woman, Walda. I will tell him you stopped by.”
Godfrey looked at the woman quizzically but said nothing as he turned to leave, pondering on what he had just heard. Mouse must have said something to the woman that turned her fancy to him. Most likely some sort of crazy lie about what he could offer her but would never give. Anger filled Godfrey, he felt his hands clench and unclench as he neared his own home. He did not tell me, thought Godfrey, he must have known that I too had a time set aside for her. He knew all along and still he did this to me. He must die. The feeling came on like a wave. Godfrey never thought that any woman could do this to their friendship, and yet here he was with these thoughts in his head. But it was no mistake, he knew what he felt, and he knew that his friend would either back down from her or die by his hands.
As Godfrey approached his home the sun was beginning to set. He would have time to go inside and get what he needed before heading to meet Walda. He walked inside, gave polite greetings to his parents, promised to pick up some food before he returned, grabbed his dagger from the table in his room, and left his house.
As Godfrey walked out of sight, Mouse, atop his horse, rode up to his door. He wanted to make sure Godfrey would be at the town square that evening. But it was Godfrey’s mother who answered the door and told Mouse that Godfrey was already headed for town square to meet with the new woman in town. Mouse’s anger showed across his face, but before Godfrey’s mother could ask what was wrong Mouse was on his horse, headed back for his own home at the gallop.
When he arrived he ran inside, ignored his parent’s inquiries, and grabbed a small needle from his room. The needle was coated in poison. He had plenty others identical to this one. He used them to kill off the livestock that had grown sick or lame. It provided a quick and not-so-painless death, and there was enough poison on one to easily take down another man. He pocketed the needle and rushed out of the house onto his horse as sunset hastily approached.
Godfrey and Mouse arrived at the town square at the exact same time. It was an eerie sight. No townsfolk walked the streets or shopped the stores. Not a sound could be heard. It was as if everyone had already turned in for the night. There were not even any drunks in the tavern that was usually full of them by this hour. There was only Walda, in the very middle of the square, and Monte sitting on the ground a few feet from her.
The two young men, however, did not notice any of this, eyes only focused on each other, their anger seething and showing on their faces and in their eyes. Mouse leapt from his horse and, in one stride, was leaping on top of Godfrey, swinging his arms and connecting with blows to Godfrey’s face. Godfrey frantically kicked his legs and landed a desperate blow to Mouse’s back, sending him sprawling to the ground. Godfrey was up, dagger whispering out of its sheath. He held it with the blade pointed toward the ground like a back-alley-brawler. As soon as Mouse reached his feet Godfrey was there, swinging his dagger with the calculated precision of the completely insane. Mouse made quick dodges, always backing away, waiting for his opening to attack. Godfrey made a quick, back-handed slash, aiming for Mouse’s throat and for the killing blow. Mouse evaded to the right and stepped inside Godfrey’s guard, his hand smoothly sliding into his pocket and coming out with the poisoned needle, forcing it into Godfrey’s body just below the breast bone.
A burning wave shot through Godfrey as he staggered back, his face twisted in pain and shock. Mouse was smiling viciously, knowing that he was finally victorious. In that moment, with his last bit of strength, Godfrey pitched the dagger underhanded toward Mouse. It spun lazily in the air twice before burying itself to the hilt in Mouse’s stomach, right at his belly. Mouse screeched in pain, his hands wrenched at the dagger, frantically ripping it out. As it came out of his body so, too, did his entrails, spilling out of him and onto the ground. Godfrey keeled over as the venom ran its course through his body and stopped his heart. His final moments were spent gasping in pain and wondering what possessed him to do such a thing to his friend, the only one he had ever had. Just beside him Mouse was scrambling to pick his dirty entrails up from the ground and trying to put them back in his body. Then he suddenly stopped and looked up, his eyes wide with realization. He gargled one last curse, pointing toward Walda and Monte, and then he died.
Walda, who had been stoically watching the fight, smiled broadly and the illusion was broken. The townsfolk appeared as they normally were: walking the streets, talking, shopping, and drinking. Not one of them noticed the two bodies and the bloody mess in the middle of the town square. As the two young men’s souls traveled to their judgment place, their bodies crumbled, disintegrated, and blew away in the wind.
Walda gracefully walked up to a man buying some food for his wife and gave him a seductive smile. The man smiled back and winked lustfully as she walked over to seduce him. And behind her, as always, was Monte, with his ever watchful eyes.
© Copyright 2006 iammyown (pw-locke at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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