Chapter One: Hillshire

Hillshire: Chapter One of an as-yet-untitled book


Virgil ran, bare-feet flying through the lush grasses of the country. Around him passed the subtle scenery of a hidden sanctuary. A village untouched by the sword and uncorrupted by war. For as long as he could remember, Virgil had met no outsiders in his little home of Hillshire.
Still he ran, passing trees, their leaves vibrant green in honor of spring’s coming. Through the clear crick that cut through the road in Hillshire and further still until he was nearly out of breath. He pushed himself harder, forcing his aching legs to run harder, harder, harder!
He stopped suddenly, coming to a slow stop in front of a humble little cottage, crafted of white stones and timber from the forest. Home. Virgil unlatched the gate and walked into the tiny little yard in front of the house. His mother’s flowers were beginning to bloom.
He made his way to the front door, stepping from flagstone to flagstone, careful not to ruin anything his mom might have planted, for she was always yelling at him for some reason or another. Might as well not give her another excuse to scream, thought Virgil. He pushed the heavy oaken door open, still an exercise for the twelve year old. As soon as he was inside the door, his mother was on top of him, babbling away about how he was late for lunch and his food was going to become rotten if he didn’t get in soon and eat. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Virgil simply nodded at his mother’s words and walked to the dining table in the next room. He sat at his spot without a word, breaking a conversation between his younger sister and brother. More words he didn’t care for.
He sat down next to his brother, in his normal spot and began to gobble down the cold corn and piece of fruit on his ceramic plate. He ate in silence while his siblings carried on their conversation from before. He didn’t dare lift his stone-gray eyes from his plate once, for fear of having maybe to speak to his family. Idle words he didn’t have time for.
He wanted to run. To feel the breeze against his tanned face and the grasses of Hillshire country between his toes. To run past the forests and to swim in the streams. He wanted to be away from his wretched home and in the wild.
When he was alone, for he usually was, as he wasn’t one for company, he’d pretend to be a famous adventurer, climbing the trees of the forest and wading across “raging, icy torrents” in the streams, even though the waters of Hillshire country for most often calm and cool.
He knew the land surrounding Hillshire better than any living man, though he wasn’t one to brag. He would sometimes stay out in the forest for days, just to get even with his mother for
something she’d done to him. When he arrived home, she was worried sick, crying and sniffling about the house, looking for something to keep her from thoughts of Virgil, her baby boy. Then, as soon as he was within the doorway she was on him like a mountain cat. Whatever that was, thought Virgil.

He sighed to himself and remembered his food, which had waited for him idly while he daydreamed. He began poking at it again, with grubby little fingers. The fingers of a dirt-digging, tree climbing, sand-sifting boy. Dirty to say the least.
His brother and sister left him alone at the table, taking their scraps and feeding it to the dog, Bumble. Virgil’s dog. The one his father had found wandering the woods outside of the village. How long ago that had been…
Virgil finished his food and cleaned off the scraps into Bumble’s bowl, just like his younger siblings. His mother was immediately on top of him, yet again, yelling at him about feeding table scraps to the mongrel. Virgil nodded to his mother, who turned and marched off to some other part of the cottage, her face still red from the screaming.
He finished scrapping off his plate into the dog bowl, despite what his mom said, then headed off towards the front door again. Bumble followed eagerly. The big, honey-furred dog loved the country outside of Hillshire, the woods, the fields… Virgil smiled to himself and led the dog out the door with him quietly, lest his siblings find out he was taking their beloved pooky.
“He’s my dog anyhow…” muttered Virgil, sliding the door back into place, trying hard not to let the oaken thing squeak. If it did it would mean certain death. Death by screaming… What a way to go, thought Virgil, being talked to death by my more.
After slipping out the door, he made a break for it, the dog chasing after him. Virgil’s brownish hair flowed behind him, It whipped around as if it had a mind of it’s own. He pumped his arms. His leg muscles rippled with each bounding step. He tore off his sweat stained over-tunic and tossed it in a bush on the side of his running path.
“Stream…” he muttered to himself. He extended his legs and soared over the shallow stream and into the grass on the other side, three feet across. Bumble simply bounded right through the slow-moving water.
And he ran. He ran harder and harder, until his lungs burned and his head throbbed. Only a little further, thought Virgil, just a bit more. Harder. Faster. And then he stopped in front of a passage between two close trees.
He was in the forest of Hillshire country now, deep within the heart of the lively woods. He slid between the two trees and into the most beautiful place in the land. Or at least according to Virgil it was.
The sanctuary always had the wetness of spring about it. The patch of beautiful green grass was pressed right up next to a small pool of crystal water, with a waterfall cascading over a slab of stone just eight feet up. The pool was calm, save the area where the waterfall met the water of the pool and foamed frothy white.
Trees surrounded the tiny grotto on all sides, completely isolating the sanctuary on all sides. Only Virgil and the fishes in the pool knew of the beauty in this place. Well, Virgil, the fishes, and now the dog.
Virgil strode to the edge of the pool with a newfound calm. The heavy breathing of running had passed and the tranquility of the grotto had taken over his

body. He peeled off his sweat-stained tunic and tossed it onto a mossy rock near the edge of the pool. Then his pants, until he was completely naked and dipping into the pool.
He tread water for a bit, letting the cool water wash away his aches and pain. The pool was circular for the most part, with about a quarter of it covered by the stone face that the waterfall fell from. The pools was roughly fifteen feet around and nearly eight feet down at it’s deepest point, in the center.
He swam to the waterfall swiftly, for he was an excellent swimmer, and let the frothing water cascade down onto his brown hair. He sat like that for minutes, closing his eyes and letting the water wash over his head and shoulders.
When he was finally satisfied that he’d been there long enough, he pushed off the stone wall and over to the edge of the pool, where he flung his elbows onto the wet grass and pulled himself out of the water, up to the waist. His golden-tan skin glistened from the afternoon sun and his hair dripped for what seemed to be forever.
He finally pulled himself completely out of the water and flopped out into the lush green outside of it’s water. The dog immediately trotted over to his and licked at his face avidly. Virgil smiled and scratched at the dogs ears, almost coaxing a smile from the beast.
They sat like that for what seemed like hours, the dog licking at Virgil’s face and rubbing it’s warm honey fur against his chest, and Virgil showering him in attention. He really didn’t get enough at home. In fact, the only thing he got at

home was tail-pulling and kicks to the rib an from angry little girl, and an even angrier little boy.
When the boy finally stopped the petting and scratching, he stood again. His hair was nearly dried now, but his golden skin was still wet from laying in the always-damp grass of the grotto. He strode to the rock where he’d lain his clothing and sat upon it, pulling on his pants and fastening his belt loosely. He looked at the dog pitifully as the thing rolled on it’s back and whined for more attention.
“Persistent little bugger, aren’t yah?” he asked as he finally fell prey to Bumble’s whimpering and walked to where he lay and scratched his belly. The dog let out a very satisfied groan in response.
And so it was that Virgil and his dog sat in his own grotto for many hours, in fact, until the sun left and the stars came out to dazzle the eye with constellations and wild flying across the side. Virgil sighed and smiled as he lay back down, still wearing no shirt, back into the grass and stared into the star-filled sky.
After a few seconds of staring aimlessly into the sky, his eyelids grew heavy and Virgil was soon drifting into sleep. Slowly, his mind let go of the real world and finally gave his body rest. Dreams came quickly and he was glad for them. He hadn’t dreamt for many months.
Virgil woke to the saliva-coated tongue of the dog slathering itself about his face. When he finally realized what was happening, he was propped up on his

elbow and pushing the dog away. He stood up and looked around. Daylight flooded the grotto.
“Mom is gonna KILL me…” he yelled at the dog, who whimpered and covered it’s eyes with it’s paws, “She said next time I wasn’t in by dark, she’d skin me alive!” Virgil jogged to where his shirt lay, but slipped in the wet grass and fell into the pool, still holding the tunic by the collar.
He surfaced quickly, breaking the calm of the pool, sending small, rippling waves bounding against the grass side. He swam to the edge of the grass and began to pull himself out, but in his haste, managed to slip backwards and plunge into the pool’s cool water again. Once again, he surfaced, sputtering out water from his throat.
Once he finally managed to get out of the pool, he immediately pulled his drenched tunic over his head and ticked it into his belt. He scratched the dog behind the ear and then ran out of the grotto, knowing the dog would follow in pursuit of more attention. The big honey-furred dog
did just that, padding along at full speed behind the fast moving blur of Virgil’s bluish tunic. The dog had a hard time keeping up with the likes of this kid. This kid who could probably outrun the fastest men of Hillshire. This kid who could swim better than most fish could, If that was possible. This simple twelve year-old kid. The dog’s tongue flapped about, just as did Virgil’s damp, brown mane, that also seemed to have trouble keeping up with the kid.
He ran and ran until he broke from the brown and green of the forest and

onto the path t Hillshire. He seemed to explode from the foliage and jet down the beaten dirt path. Actually, if it was possible for a boy to explode, he probably would have, if not just for the thrill… the excitement.
That’s what he got from running. Excitement. Thrills. That’s why this little kid from Hillshire pushed himself. To escape from the real world and enter his fantasy world, where running solved all of his problems. After his father disappeared in the forest, years ago, he had taken up running and swimming and his silent coldness to others.
BAM! The gate of his cottage fence burst open and Virgil flew through the opening and up to the door and pushed the heavy white door open with a heave and a ho. To his surprise, his mother wasn’t pacing about in the front hall. Nor where his younger siblings waiting for him eagerly, excited to see there silent brother get yelled at. Or even better, take a beating. They loved it when Mama beat his butt with her paddle.
“Hello?” he questioned to no one, searching the various rooms of the cottage. Nothing. “Hello?” he hollered again, praying to God for an answer. Still nothing.
He walked to his room. The one he no longer shared with his siblings, for he was “too old for that now.” Thank goodness, he sighed, flopping his body out onto his soft, feathered bed. He drifted into sleep quickly, but was immediately awaken by the dog yelping at the front door, anxious to be let in. Silently cursing the dog, he stood up begrudgingly and practically dragged his aching body to the door. Before he’d lain down, he hadn’t realized how tired he really was.
He pushed the door open for the dog. The dog scrambled into the cottage and trotted into Virgil’s room. Virgil himself followed, only to find the big dog sprawled out across his bed. It was barely big enough for the boy, let alone the enormous dog too. Virgil sighed and slumped against the side of the mattress, not really caring how comfortable his rest was any more.
The door to the little house was flung open, hitting the wall to the side with a bang. This shook Virgil from his coming sleep immediately. In a second he was on his feet and walking cautiously towards the front hallway. The dog followed, anxious to please his master.
He emerged from his room and walked to the doorway to find it swung wide open, and an old, fat lady standing in it’s arch. She slipped off her shoes silently and then walked towards Virgil daintily, regardless of her size.
“Aunt Marie…” Virgil stammered, forcing a half-hearted smile onto his lips. The big woman smiled at her nephew and handed the little boy her big, fur trimmed purse. The thing felt as if she carried rocks within it. Knowing Aunt Marie, thought Virgil, there probably is some rocks in here. He carried the purse into his room and tossed it onto his bed. When that deed was done, he returned to the doorway to find his mother herding his brother and sister into the cottage.
“Ah, awake at last!” Mother smiled. Virgil couldn’t figure out why until he looked to his younger siblings, who winked at him and smiled. Virgil smiled back at them, though his mother took it as a smile for her. A rarity to be sure.

“Morning Mom!” said Virgil, throwing his arms around his mother, though his eyes never left those two little deceivers he called kin. Of course they’d want something in return. Unless of course the apocalypse was coming… His younger siblings doing something in his favor probably meant he would die tomorrow, but he didn’t care. They’d done something for him just the same.
The family walked into the parlor, where Aunt Marie had already seated herself at a table, shabbily set up in the center of the tiny room. The chair she sat upon had a look of hate about it. It also looked as if it would die from the weight on it’s back.
“So, you didn’t see it fit to see me to your home?” puffed Aunt Marie, struggling to refill her lungs after the long sentence winded her.
“I’m sorry Auntie, It’s just that I didn’t sleep well last night and-” he was cut off by his mother.
“He needed his rest sister, for goodness sakes, leave the poor boy alone,” she smiled at her elder sister, but as she passed the fat women’s chair to sit down herself she added, “You know he hasn’t been well since his father disappeared.”
“Yes, yes, that horrid husband of yours… Where did he go to again?”
“He was lost in the wood…” answered Virgil, with a down-trodden look about his face. He had a strong distaste for his Aunt’s manner. She was from the outer country of Hillshire, her husband a farmer and her kids the same. Which reminded him…”And where’s Robby and Bill?”
“Oh, off about in the town, they act as if they’ve never seen this shit hole

before.” she said dryly. Virgil shook his head in disgust and walked from the parlor. He’d find his cousins. He hadn’t seen them since before his father’s disappearance nearly three years ago. He walked out the door and pushed the heavy oaken thing shut. And then he ran. He ran like he’d never run before, letting his sour feelings towards his Aunt Marie go as if the wind swept them away, just as it blew his brown hair from his face.
He wore a fresh tunic. His favorite green one, green as the trees of the forest. As always. He was barefoot, his feet padding along the dirt street as if it where perfectly flat brick-laid or pavement. His face dripped with sweat as he ran.
He loved it. The sweat. The salty burning he felt in his eyes and he knew he was pushing himself. He loved the searing pain in his thighs when he pushed harder still. And the aches he would endure when he stopped. He loved it all. Every last bit of it; the pain, the sweat and the aches. He wouldn’t trade his running for a hundred pieces of silver, or even gold.
So he ran. The running he wouldn’t sell for all the riches in the world. The
running the kept the pain of reality at bay. The running that gave him joy in his sorrowful life. No, not joy. Calm. It gave him calm. And so he ran. Calmed by it. Calmed of all the nasty things his Aunt had said and certainly would say in the future. Calmed of his father’s disappearance and his mothers struggle to keep their lives going. Calm.
Virgil finally stopped running, only after he spotted his cousins roaming the street. They were easy to spot, as there wasn’t much road traffic during midday.

Robby and Bill seemed to spot Virgil too, as they immediately ran to him, shouting “hello!” and “how are you!” across the street.
Virgil smiled and nodded, greeting his cousins in a loving embrace. Robby, who had just turned nine, hugged his older cousin with an intensity found from his new age. Bill, who was the same age as Virgil, hugged him second, waiting for his little brother to release his death grip.
“So we meet again, my dear Virgil,” said Robby. Bill rolled his eyes and laughed.
“He’s been talkin’ like that ever since his birthday… hopefully he’ll stop soon!” the two older kids laughed, but Robby grew angry.
“It’s quite proper to speak like this!” Robby shouted, obviously beginning to lose his cool. Normally he was just a sweet innocent little kid. Time changed everything eventually, I guess, thought Virgil. Virgil and Bill both laughed even harder at this.
“So, shall we go back to your home then, Virgil?” questioned Robby, the look of innocence having returned to his charming little face. Virgil spat onto the dirt road and gestured for the two to follow him. He took off running then, as soon as he knew they were following.
He didn’t push himself this time, for he knew the offspring of that grotesque pig Aunt Marie couldn’t keep up. So he jogged along at a leisurely pace, Bill and Robby followed, huffing and puffing the whole way. Soon they left the reaches of Hillshire Village and entered the country around it. After a short walk, they found themselves at the edge of the forest.
With another simple nod, the silent Virgil led them into the green foliage of the forest. They were soon engulfed by it’s beauty, and Robby and Bill where taken aback. They walked slowly through the forest, for surely they couldn’t navigate the dense trees like Virgil could. After about fifteen minutes of walking, Virgil did something he wasn’t capable of.
He slid through the opening between two trees and went to lay in his favorite spot at the grotto. This time, Bill and Robby where so taken aback they had to gasp for breath as they walked to lay beside their cousin.
“What is this place?” asked Robby, his innocent eyes flitting about the grotto like a boy who has just received more than one Yuletide present.
“My grotto,” answered Virgil matter-of-factly.
“It’s yours for real?” asked Bill, who until now, was so taken aback by the places beauty, he could not speak. Virgil nodded his answer with a smile. Without another word Virgil pulled his tunic off his body and tossed it on the same mossy rock as before, and for all other times for that matter. His cousins did the same. Soon they where all naked, ready to hop in the pool. They heard a rustling outside of the grotto and all froze.
They stood like that for minutes until, finally, The dog broke through the trees and rushed to meet his master. They all laughed and petted the dog’s pretty honey fur, which glistened in the sun that shone down on the grotto.
After they had pet him for awhile, Virgil stood and walked to the pool and

slipped in, feeling the crystal cool waters envelope him in their arms. It felt good to be back. Robby, who could not swim, at the edge of the pool, dangling his feet into the water, while Bill followed Virgil into the water. Soon they were splashing about, while Robby showered the dog in his affection.
After nearly an hour of play, they began to grow tired and decided to get out and dry off, then finally return to the dreadful cottage. Virgil pulled himself from the water partway, so from his waist up was in the warm air. Robby treaded water near the center of the pool, right in front of the waterfall. The roar of the waterfall covered the sounds.
The sounds grew closer and closer still, until the falls could not even mask them. A goblin jumped from the cliff face and down to the grass below, making a nearly twenty foot horizontal jump in a single leap. The boys never saw it coming.
“In ‘ere!” the goblin shouted. He picked up Robby by his neck and lifted him up off the ground in one hand. He then hefted his scimitar with his free hand, shifting it uneasily in his fingers. He seemed not to notice Virgil and Bill hidden behind the waterfall. Robby looked at them helplessly and mouthed soundless words. “Help me.”
In a few minutes, goblins filled the grotto, all standing around the first one, who still held Robby firmly in his arm. An important looking one strode in after the rest, carrying a heavy looking, black sword. This was no goblin, Virgil realized, this was a man… An evil man.
“Kill ‘em’” said the human with the black sword. The goblins screeched

with joy. One turned and grabbed the dog by it’s tail, the thing whined helplessly and barked for help from it’s master, but Virgil was scared stiff. He watched in horror, as the goblins gutted his dog before his eyes. He cried silently, but dared not make a sound.
Then, after torturing the poor dog for what seemed like an eternity, they turned slowly to Robby. He cried and begged, but they didn’t listen. Two goblins held him down and a third came forward with a knife. One by one, each of the little boy’s fingers where carved off and tossed into the pool. They all laughed as the boy screamed and wriggled in agony.
He looked into his cousins eyes one last time, for Virgil had plunged Bill beneath the water so he would not scream. Little Robby cried for help, but he knew none would come. Virgil vomited into the pool as his cousins innocent face writhed with agony and a dark scimitar was plunged into his chest. The goblin withdrew his sword from the little boys body and walked out of the grotto, howling with laughter like the rest of them.

CHAPTER TWO IS SOON TO COME AND PLEASE, DROP COMMENTS, I WANTS THEM!!!