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Super-Earth
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2009
A cold wind whipped against the trees with an astonishing strength, sending most inhabitants of a village in the North of France to cover in the local tavern or the comfort of their houses. The rain fell heavily upon the ground, announcing an imminent arrival of the winter. In the shadows, however, stumbled a frail silhouette, shielding herself from the rough weather with the help of a large blue scarf.
''Father? Father!'' Her feeble voice called out, fading into the sounds of the storm. Hours have passed since her father's departure, and the young girl was growing increasingly worried about him. Making her way across the village's main place, she slowly walked toward the muddy route her father used earlier on that morning.
''Belle, why the rush? You could use some warming,'' a hoarse, narcissistic voice mused, a large male approaching the girl from the corner of the street. He looked intimidating, proud and self assured - the type of man to choose a girl because she would look good beside him, rather than because of true feelings. In Belle's opinion, he could have gotten married to a full length mirror, it would have suited him best.
''Please, leave me alone, Gaston,'' she responded, her melodious although deep voice holding notes of desperation. He inspired fear to her, never up to any good, brutalising the whereabouts and her father's working space. She loved books, always carrying at least one with herself. She dreamed of a gentle, delicate man, able to challenge her beliefs and make her want not only his body but everything that came with it. Gaston was clearly not the type she sought.
Brushing past him, she shook her head, accelerating. She was a beautiful girl, most men in the village flirted with her, some refraining from doing so due to their spouses' iron fists. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back almost to her waist, curling toward its ends, always attached in a loose ponytail. Her honey shaded eyes were large and bright, filled with wit and idealism in spite of a light shadow cast upon them by the thick and long eyelashes. Her face was delicate although held a light tan, her cheekbones rather high and her lips plump of a gentle pink shade. The girl's body was well sculpted in spite of her young age, she was merely nineteen. Standing at approximately five feet and four inches tall, she held a pair of ample breasts, tiny waistline, flat stomach, long slender legs and a firm round rear. These assets were easy to spot although her dress always left something for imagination - it was a careful light blue cloth, with a light blouse underneath and an apron that day, laying loose on her curves other than perhaps her stomach.
Attempting to avoid a void conversation with the brute, she made her way out of the village, calling out for her father. He, however, was nowhere to be seen. Finally, she came to the end of the road, where it separated in two. Hesitant, she turned left, walking for what felt like hours yet in truth preceeded one. It was not long before the nightfall was complete, nothing there to light her road, the stars hidden by the clouds. The wolves began howling, sensing her sweet scent. Letting out a yelp, she ran as fast as she could - forth, without looking back. It might have been a stupid choice, yet she knew that she would not be able to make it back to the village.
It was when the pack of wolves grew closer, their growling clearly heard by the poor thing, when a pair of gates appeared. Pushing them quickly, she entered the grounds, making sure to lock them before the dog like predators surged from the shadows. Finally, she let out a soft sigh. With any luck, her father was on the property. Turning around, she found her jaw drop.
In front of Belle lay the biggest, building she has ever gotten the chance to see. It was equally the most frightening thing she has ever laid eyes upon. Slowly walking up to it, she studied the dark, imposing rocks, the screaming gargoyles, a shiver running down her spine. It was surely abandoned, nobody could live in such a place.
However, with no way back, she decided to enter the building. There was nothing else she could do. Pushing the heavy wooden doors, she stared at the interior, dumbfounded. Everything was dark, lifeless. Suddenly, a light flickered in the distance. ''Father?'' She called out. ''Is anyone here?'' She continued, walking up to the light only to see that it was a chandelier. Arching an eyebrow, she figured that somebody must have been present.
Hesitant, she took a hold of the chandelier, surprised when she heard a sudden giggle. ''Hello?'' She called out, walking down the hallway. ''Father?'' She called out again, receiving a faint response from afar. Pacing down a stairway, she found herself in the dungeons. ''Oh, god, father,'' she let out, running up to the man. Carefully, she set the chandelier on the ground, her fingers sliding through the bars. ''What's happened?'' She questioned, listening to her father's story about him picking the wrong way and getting assaulted by wolves, wide eyed.
As he was done, he looked around, seemingly realizing where he was. ''Run, Belle, you can still save yourself,'' he coughed. ''What? No, I could never leave you like that,'' she exclaimed, shaking her head. ''He's going to kill both of us,'' her father hissed, on the verge of passing out.
''Father? Father!'' Her feeble voice called out, fading into the sounds of the storm. Hours have passed since her father's departure, and the young girl was growing increasingly worried about him. Making her way across the village's main place, she slowly walked toward the muddy route her father used earlier on that morning.
''Belle, why the rush? You could use some warming,'' a hoarse, narcissistic voice mused, a large male approaching the girl from the corner of the street. He looked intimidating, proud and self assured - the type of man to choose a girl because she would look good beside him, rather than because of true feelings. In Belle's opinion, he could have gotten married to a full length mirror, it would have suited him best.
''Please, leave me alone, Gaston,'' she responded, her melodious although deep voice holding notes of desperation. He inspired fear to her, never up to any good, brutalising the whereabouts and her father's working space. She loved books, always carrying at least one with herself. She dreamed of a gentle, delicate man, able to challenge her beliefs and make her want not only his body but everything that came with it. Gaston was clearly not the type she sought.
Brushing past him, she shook her head, accelerating. She was a beautiful girl, most men in the village flirted with her, some refraining from doing so due to their spouses' iron fists. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back almost to her waist, curling toward its ends, always attached in a loose ponytail. Her honey shaded eyes were large and bright, filled with wit and idealism in spite of a light shadow cast upon them by the thick and long eyelashes. Her face was delicate although held a light tan, her cheekbones rather high and her lips plump of a gentle pink shade. The girl's body was well sculpted in spite of her young age, she was merely nineteen. Standing at approximately five feet and four inches tall, she held a pair of ample breasts, tiny waistline, flat stomach, long slender legs and a firm round rear. These assets were easy to spot although her dress always left something for imagination - it was a careful light blue cloth, with a light blouse underneath and an apron that day, laying loose on her curves other than perhaps her stomach.
Attempting to avoid a void conversation with the brute, she made her way out of the village, calling out for her father. He, however, was nowhere to be seen. Finally, she came to the end of the road, where it separated in two. Hesitant, she turned left, walking for what felt like hours yet in truth preceeded one. It was not long before the nightfall was complete, nothing there to light her road, the stars hidden by the clouds. The wolves began howling, sensing her sweet scent. Letting out a yelp, she ran as fast as she could - forth, without looking back. It might have been a stupid choice, yet she knew that she would not be able to make it back to the village.
It was when the pack of wolves grew closer, their growling clearly heard by the poor thing, when a pair of gates appeared. Pushing them quickly, she entered the grounds, making sure to lock them before the dog like predators surged from the shadows. Finally, she let out a soft sigh. With any luck, her father was on the property. Turning around, she found her jaw drop.
In front of Belle lay the biggest, building she has ever gotten the chance to see. It was equally the most frightening thing she has ever laid eyes upon. Slowly walking up to it, she studied the dark, imposing rocks, the screaming gargoyles, a shiver running down her spine. It was surely abandoned, nobody could live in such a place.
However, with no way back, she decided to enter the building. There was nothing else she could do. Pushing the heavy wooden doors, she stared at the interior, dumbfounded. Everything was dark, lifeless. Suddenly, a light flickered in the distance. ''Father?'' She called out. ''Is anyone here?'' She continued, walking up to the light only to see that it was a chandelier. Arching an eyebrow, she figured that somebody must have been present.
Hesitant, she took a hold of the chandelier, surprised when she heard a sudden giggle. ''Hello?'' She called out, walking down the hallway. ''Father?'' She called out again, receiving a faint response from afar. Pacing down a stairway, she found herself in the dungeons. ''Oh, god, father,'' she let out, running up to the man. Carefully, she set the chandelier on the ground, her fingers sliding through the bars. ''What's happened?'' She questioned, listening to her father's story about him picking the wrong way and getting assaulted by wolves, wide eyed.
As he was done, he looked around, seemingly realizing where he was. ''Run, Belle, you can still save yourself,'' he coughed. ''What? No, I could never leave you like that,'' she exclaimed, shaking her head. ''He's going to kill both of us,'' her father hissed, on the verge of passing out.