Returning to the Forgotten Children!

Yesterday's writing total was 746 words, followed by a triumphant emailing of the finished New Zealand manuscript! No doubt there will be some editing required in the days to come, but the first draft is done.

So now I can return to my "story in a month"! Today's entry of The Forgotten Children is 815 words. Since today is the 9th, I am going to try and get as close as I can to a 10 000 word total in 10 days. That will mean writing in excess of 1700 words tomorrow - on a day when I have my "regular job" to go to! So, I guess it's a mini challenge... I'll see what I can do! But in the meantime, here's today's offering..
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The moon was high in the night sky and the town was silent. The man paced up and down, sweeping his cape behind him as he counted down the moments until he could take his revenge. A sudden rustling sound in the branches above him made him look up. “Well, my night wanderer,” he said. “It is time.”

The owl blinked at him, its eyes luminous. It ruffled its feathers, as if stretching its wings in readiness. When the man held out his arm, it flew to perch on the edge of his cloak.
“You know what to do,” said the man, softly. “I will wait for your return. Then we will be gone.”

With an answering screech, the bird flew high into the sky. The man watched it circle once above his head, before flying towards the village. He took the pipe from within his cloak and stroked it lovingly. “You have work to do too, my friend,” he whispered. His voice was eager, almost menacing. “Now we will take what payment was owed to us.”

Charlotte… Charlotte….
Charlotte stirred. She opened her eyes and immediately, her breath caught in her throat. The voice was back.
No, she said to herself. I will not listen.
Come to me, Charlotte, the voice repeated. It is time for us to leave.

Despite herself, Charlotte sat up and pushed aside the bedclothes. Almost as if she were sleepwalking, she made her way over to the window and pushed open the shutter, already knowing what she would see there. The owl sat on the fencepost, blinking at her. Their eyes locked.

Why can’t I stop this? Charlotte thought. I do not want to be here. I do not want to listen. I have done nothing wrong.
Why should you think you have done anything wrong? said the voice. You are to be rewarded. You and the others. Come with me and you shall see.

What others? asked Charlotte, dimly wondering how she could be having a conversation without uttering a word.
You are one of the chosen ones, said the voice in reply. That is why you can hear me. I can hear your thoughts too. You must not be afraid. Glorious things await you all. You will see.

Desperately, Charlotte tried to resist. She knew that the voice could not belong to the owl. It was a man’s voice. What was happening? Was it the voice of the stranger that Troy had spoken of?
I know who you are, she said. You are the ratcatcher. You are trying to curse this town. I will not believe you!

At this, she heard a chuckle: a musical, mesmerizing sound.
You are not cursed, Charlotte, the voice said again. I told you. You are one of the chosen. I have only come to lead the chosen ones to their reward. Don’t you wish to know the wonderous things that await you once you come with me?
Suddenly, the room was filled with music. Beautiful notes seemed to sweep around Charlotte, catching her up in a blanket of sound. She closed her eyes in rapture, recognising the tune as the one that she and Troy had heard earlier that day. Her fears evaporated and she smiled. She wanted nothing more than to hear the melody over and over again. She felt light and relaxed and totally at peace. How could she have worried so?

Yes, she said. Tell me! What will I see? What will the chosen ones be given?
Good girl, said the voice. Come outside and follow me. We have to collect the others. Then you will all see the rewards together.

Charlotte nodded. I am coming, she said. Without another thought, she turned from the window and moved quietly to the door that led outside. The music still flowed through her mind. She felt excited and proud. She was a chosen one!

Outside, she moved to stand directly in front of the owl. At that moment, a black cat leapt in front of her path, miaowing urgently. It wove in and out of her legs, as if vying with the owl for her attention. Its fur was standing on end and it hissed at the owl, its eyes wide.

Smiling, Charlotte bent down towards the cat. “What are you doing, Sixpence?” she whispered. “You must not be rude to my new friend.” She stroked the cat’s fur. “This is an exciting time,” she said. “You will see. I am a chosen one, Sixpence. I must go and receive my reward.”

Again, the cat miaowed and hissed. But Charlotte would not be deterred. As the owl rose into the darkness, she followed. “Do not fret, Sixpence,” she called softly. “I will be back soon.”

Sixpence watched as she and the owl disappeared into the night. Then he let out a long, mournful cry and followed her into the darkness.