| Posted: 28 Aug 2008 04:49 |
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Here's a short story i wrote a year or two ago. Its not really about super heroes, its more in the fantasy category--middle ages. Part of my inspiration came from the Count of Monte Cristo and the Unforgiven (the Clint Eastwood version). This is only part of it, it was too long to post the whole thing at once.
It had been almost ten years since Markus Trower had left his home, and now he could hardly believe he was back. The town looked so different; as if this weren’t even the same place he had grown up. The people that walked the streets looked him over carefully, and then went on their way. He recognized some of them, faces from his boyhood that had faded as the years went by. Although he knew who they were, they had no idea who he was. Of course, it had been ten years, and by then Markus Trower had long been forgotten.
The wind plastered his cloak to his back as he rode on through the city, observing how his town had fared. As his horse passed an old shop, Markus recognized the face of the old man standing at the counter. He looked about seventy, and his back was crooked and his hair was white with age. Even through those wrinkles, Markus would always know the face of old Gus, his first employer. Gus had always been kind to him, and it was a comfort to see him again.
Markus had come to see his sister, who was the last of his family. His parents had died a long time ago. He never knew his father, and his mother had passed away shortly before his departure. When it was just he and his sister, the baron had come and forced all of the boys his age into war. He had not wanted to leave his fifteen-year old sister alone on the farm, but he knew that when it came to the baron he had no choice. But now, the war had finally ended and he was home at last.
Markus expected that if anyone knew where to find his sister, Alannah, it would be old Gus. Gus was the friendly sort who knew everything that went on in the town. Climbing down from his horse, Markus approached the old wooden door and stepped inside. Gus only glanced at him, and then returned his gaze to his other customers. Markus doubted he would recognize him; he was dirty, his clothes were old and worn; his thick brown hair was gray with dirt and hung down in his face. He knew he had to appear quite ragged, nothing like the boy Gus remembered.
Markus moved towards the counter to stand before his old friend. Gus regarded him as a bum with nothing better to do than to bug an old merchant.
Smiling wryly, Markus stared at Gus for a good long while until the man finally grew tired of it and decided to say something to him. “Is there something you want, sir?” asked Gus curtly.
“I’m surprised at you, Gus. You’ve known me for sixteen years, yet you can’t even remember my face? How disappointing,” replied Markus, his grin never fading.
The old man leaned forward to take a closer look and his eyes widened in disbelief. The lost soldier had returned home after all these years!
“Why, Markus Trower, it is you!” exclaimed Gus, the happiness clear in his voice.
“That’s right. I’m back. And I’m here to stay.”
“That’s alright with me, as long as you get cleaned up first,” said Gus, wrinkling his nose. “I can’t believe the military doesn’t have you take baths!”
Markus laughed, happy to be back home with his old friend.
“So, Gus, now that I’m back, I’d like to see my sister again. Can you tell me where I can find her?” asked Markus.
Gus hesitated, and Markus could see in his eyes that something was definitely wrong. He did not like it when he got that feeling.
“Alannah’s dead, Markus,” replied the old man, and Markus could feel his heart stop. A feeling of despair came over him as he lurched backwards. Long seconds passed before he was finally able to regain his composure.
“She’s been dead for six years, Markus. Six long years. I know what you’re feeling, Markus, I remember how I felt when I found out my brother was dead, I was devastated, I—“
“How?” Markus broke in sharply, his voice a hoarse growl that seemed to startle even Gus. “What happened to her?” he hissed, and the harshness of his tone began to frighten the old man.
“It’s over, Markus. She’s been dead for six years. You have to forget about it and move on,” replied Gus calmly.
Suddenly Markus’s hand had shot forward and was wrapped tightly around the old man’s neck. “Did someone kill my sister?” asked Trower again.
“It was the Novas,” whispered the old man in fear.
“The Novas,” Markus breathed. The Novas were a powerful enemy of the Trowers and had been that way for as long as he could remember. The Novas and the Trowers were constantly fighting, but no one had ever died in their feuds before.
“Yes, there were four of them. Gary, Van, Tomas, and Ben Nova,” explained Gus. “But you’ll never find them. They sold your farm and moved to Rabat, and I haven’t seen them since.”
Markus loosened his grip on the old man’s throat and dropped him to the floor. “If they’re in Rabat, then I can find them. I was there during the war. Finding the Novas shouldn’t be too hard. I will find them and I will avenge my sister. They won’t get away with this. I will kill them, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that happens. The Novas will not escape justice,” he said as he turned and walked toward the door.
“War has changed you, Markus,” said Gus sadly to his back.
Trower stopped walking, but did not turn to face the old man as he spoke quietly: “The change was for the best.”
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| Posted: 28 Aug 2008 14:46 |
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Interesting read.
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| Posted: 28 Aug 2008 23:25 Last Edited By: Rick Jones |
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Thanks. Here's the next part:
Weeks later, with the glaring heat of the sun on his back, Markus rode on, and knew that if he didn’t find water soon he would slowly die of thirst. He had given most of the water from his canteen to his horse, and had only saved a little for himself.
It was hard enough just to keep his eyes open, and it was a struggle to keep himself from falling from his mount. His hair was almost gray from the dust, and his clothes were coated in dirt, giving him a ragged appearance. He had already gotten rid of his cloak, and what clothes he had left were ripped and tattered.
As Markus continued on into the harshness of the desert sun, thoughts of the war started to float back to him. He could remember standing on the fields of battle holding his bloodstained sword high in praise of his country’s first victory, and the pool of reeking bodies that surrounded him. That had been his first taste of bloodshed, and it was a moment that he had hoped he would be able to put behind him forever. So many people had died that day, and his sword held more blood than any other. And that was not his only victory; he had experienced countless more before his unit had fallen into a massive ambush, taking the lives of all his companions. He was the only one of his unit to survive the encounter. He tried to avenge his friends, but he was captured and taken to the enemy fort where he stayed for five more years. There he endured tremendous amounts of torture, and several times he had almost lost his grip on reality. But he was strong, and he swore to himself that he would never let go, no matter what happened. And after all of those years of imprisonment, his prayers were finally answered and a group of soldiers came and rescued him from his torment.
Markus swayed back and forth on his horse, and twice he almost fell from his saddle. He was determined not to fail here, and surrender to the heat of the desert. He would fight until he could fight no more. There was no turning back.
He had lost his sister, and now he had nothing left. He had no family, friends or home. All he had was his horse and his sword. Why go on? What did he have left to live for? Revenge. That was the only thing that kept him going. All he cared about now was killing the Novas and avenging his sister. But other than that, he had no real reason to live, no reason to hold on.
“I don’t care what it takes,” Markus said to himself, and it was a struggle just to get the words out, “I will find you, and I’ll make you pay for the life of my sister!”
A feeling of relief came over him as the city of Rabat finally came into sight. Only a half a day earlier he had left the desert, and there was still no trace of water. Markus rode on, and finally gave in to his fatigue. The exhausted warrior came tumbling out of his saddle and landed in the dirt. He managed to crawl toward the nearby well and dunk his head into the water. He hadn’t felt so good in what seemed like weeks. He cupped the cold water in his hands and gave it to the horse. After a few minutes of drinking from the well, Markus led his horse to a nearby tavern and tied him to a large wooden post near the doorway. Patting him on the neck, he placed a stack of hay in front of the horse before stepping into the inn.
The tavern was full with mostly middle-aged workers sitting around their tables gambling and drinking. The innkeeper seemed to be the only one that noticed him come in.
“I need a room,” said Markus as he approached the counter.
“That’ll cost ye two silvers. You get a meal too, if you have the money to pay. If you have a horse, I’ll have Sam and Hal make sure he’s taken care of.” replied the man.
“Two? Don’t you think that’s a bit high?” asked Trower.
“Usually I would only ask one, but ever since Nova was elected mayor, I’ve had to charge extra because of the tax increase.”
“Wait…did you say Nova?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Ben Nova. Do you know him?”
“Yeah, I know him,” replied Trower, his eyes burning with a rage he could not begin to describe.
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| Posted: 29 Aug 2008 00:04 |
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Sweet, you should make it longer and put it a book.
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| Posted: 29 Aug 2008 00:27 |
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 Interesting. Now you got me wanting to read more. It seems like a pretty good start to a worthwhile story.
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| Posted: 29 Aug 2008 01:28 |
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Thanks, guys. I'll go ahead and post some more of it then.
Early the next morning, Markus arose and quickly pulled on his rags and made his way out of the inn. He made a quick stop at the stables to get his horse and then continued on to the Nova House. The Nova House was an incredibly large mansion that they had probably bought with the farm.
He slowly climbed down from his mount and made his way towards the house. He knocked twice on the door and as it opened, a middle-aged woman peered out to examine the newcomer. As she looked upon Markus her eyes widened in shock with recognition.
“You!” she hissed as her hand groped for the knife at her waist. Markus grabbed the weapon and threw it to the ground. He gave her a hard push, sending her lurching back into the house. Before she could react, Markus was upon her. She was backed up into a wall, and the tip of his sword was pressed tight against her throat. Markus was extremely close, with hatred twisting his features.
She screamed desperately for help.
“If you don’t shut your mouth, woman, I’ll shut it for you, and permanently,” hissed Markus, his voice a low growl. He slapped his hand over her gaping mouth to silence her.
Suddenly, three young men came rushing down the stairway to see what was the matter. Their eyes widened with shock as they looked upon the stranger with his sword at their defenseless mother’s throat.
Two of them had already drawn their blades, while the third was unarmed. Markus turned his head to consider the three, and fires burned in his eyes as he examined his sister’s killers. They were Van, Tomas, and Gary Nova; Markus would recognize their faces anywhere.
“Who…who are you?” demanded the unarmed man. This one he knew as Tomas.
Trower removed his sword from the old woman’s throat, and smashed his elbow into her face, knocking her to the ground. He then turned his attention to Tomas, and sent his blade in a swift, sidelong sweep towards the neck.
The man crumbled to the ground in a pool of blood beside his severed head. The old woman’s scream over the death of her child echoed throughout the town, alerting everyone in the city of the disturbance.
“Coward!” yelled Van Nova, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. “You just killed an unarmed man!”
Trower regarded the man with a stone-faced expression, and then replied: “Justice is blind, dog!”
Both brothers were taken aback by the stranger’s reply and were slow to respond.
“Trower?” demanded Gary, but knew he didn’t need an answer to know that the man that had killed his brother was the lost son of their father’s enemy.
Markus’s expression did not change as he regarded his opponents with a long, piercing stare that had them shaking with fear.
“We thought you were dead, Trower,” said Van as he began to raise his sword.
Again, Markus did not reply. He only looked at them.
“You just made a big mistake, Trower, busting in here like this. Did you really think you could—“ Van was cut off as Trower’s sword came flying towards him in a quick and blinding motion.
Van Nova rocked back on his heels as he struggled to keep up with Markus’s unbelievably masterful sword skill. The sword was a blur in Trower’s hands, and Van knew he couldn’t take down Markus by himself. Gary soon joined in, and Trower quickly switched from offense to defense. This unexpected turn of events caused the Novas’ confidence to return. Smiling wickedly, Van stepped up the tempo and came upon Markus in a rush. Trower worked his blade in strong, complex, and defensive patterns that kept his adversaries’ blades back through several combined maneuvers.
Finally, Trower turned the tables on the Novas again and sent his blade in for the kill. Somehow, Van missed his parry, and a blade slipped past his defenses and into his heart. Pain brought blackness and now only one brother remained.
Confidence faltering, Gary looked upon his dead brothers, and knew that it was only a matter of time before he too, was killed. Filled with desperation, Gary decided that if he were to die, he would die with honor.
Enraged to kill, Gary went into a flurry of quick and carefully measured attacks, although Markus easily matched his speed and precision.
Blades flashing relentlessly, Trower gashed a hole in his side and pain flared on Gary’s face. The remaining Nova brother fought in a sheer panic for his life, and knew that if the odds didn’t change soon, then he too would be cut down by the merciless Trower that had slaughtered his brothers.
Sword flowing perfectly, Markus didn’t stop, and Gary quickly began to tire. Trower had been fighting in the war for ten years and he was a veteran at swordplay. He had been taught by the best, and Trower clearly held the advantage in this battle.
As Gary glanced over at his two dead brothers, something in his mind finally snapped. An indescribable anger came over him and he suddenly stepped up the tempo and switched from offense to defense. However, the change in the flow of battle did not last long. Gary lost himself in his rage and allowed his concentration to slip, and in doing this, Trower’s blade found its mark and plunged deep into his heart.
Markus watched as the last of the Nova brothers crumbled to his knees, and then fell face down on the floor. He had just killed three men, and now only Ben Nova remained to be killed, and then his vengeance would be complete. He looked over to see the frightened mother crouched on the floor, crying over the deaths of her sons. He raised his sword to finish her, intending to wipe out the entire Nova family, but the part of him that was still Markus Trower stopped him from losing himself to his hatred. As he looked upon the woman, he felt a sudden pang of mercy. For some reason, he pitied her. He did not know why, but he did. He no longer felt that bloodthirsty urge he had become so accustomed to while on his hunt for the Novas.
Suddenly, a sound outside the mansion caused him to bring to mind that the battle was not over yet. He still had to face the militia. He had gone this far, and he was not going to fail here. He had to keep going. He quickly made his way up the stairs and down a long dark hall. He heard the doors bust open and the relentless shouts of several soldiers. He knew he had taken too long in killing the brothers. He should have finished them quickly so that he would have enough time to escape.
“He’s upstairs! After him!” yelled one of the soldiers, and Trower decided not to stick around to see what happened next.
Busting out the nearest window, Markus was out of the mansion and heading for safety. Running at full speed, Trower was able to make it into the woods before the militia had even discovered that he had left the house. All too soon, he could hear sounds of pursuit behind him.
Time was running out. The soldiers weren’t far behind him and it wouldn’t be long before they finally caught up to him. As Markus came running out of the woods, he found himself on the edge of a tall narrow cliff overlooking the river. Seeing that he was now running out of options, Markus turned back the way he came, but his path was now blocked by his pursuers, led by the mayor, Ben Nova. But before he could come up with a plan for an escape, an arrow had whistled into his shoulder, and Trower cried out with pain as he lurched backwards and went tumbling off the cliff.
Finally, peace at last.
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| Posted: 29 Aug 2008 02:07 |
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| Posted: 30 Aug 2008 01:04 |
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Here is the fourth and final part. I hope everyone likes it.
It was late that night when Ben Nova was working in his office, pondering the events of his family’s death and Trower’s defeat. He missed his sons, and wished that they had never become a part of the Nova and Trower feud. His wife had told him everything about what happened in the mansion, about how Trower had threatened to kill her and how easily he had cut down her three sons. Although his sadness could not be described, he couldn’t help but admit he was feeling a great deal of relief. All that was left of the Trower family was dead now and Ben could live the remainder of his life in peace.
Although he understood Trower’s desire to kill him and his sons, Ben believed that Markus was a misguided boy who had let his bloodlust get the best of him. Markus Trower had thought that he was being the hero by killing off the Novas, but he was wrong, he was only giving in to his hatred. Ben also believed that Trower’s vengeful deeds were what had brought him to his inevitable death.
Suddenly, Ben felt a cold breeze coming into the room. He looked over to see that the window was open. He thought that he had closed it earlier, but he guessed he had forgotten. As he was busy closing the window back, he heard a voice from behind him.
“Just couldn’t leave us alone, could you, Ben?”
Nova whirled around and was shocked at what he saw. Markus Trower, the man he had thought had fallen into the river to his death was now standing before him.
Ben stumbled backwards, alarmed by the hunter’s unexpected return to the Nova House.
“You’re going to pay for what you did to my sister,” said Markus, and his eyes burned with a rage that Ben had never witnessed before.
“You should never have come here, Markus,” replied Ben, fingering the hilt of his knife nervously. He didn’t want to fight Trower, but the odds were in favor of Ben Nova due to the fact that Trower was unarmed.
“There’s no way out for you, Nova. You killed my little sister, and now you’re going to die,” replied Markus, as he began to approach the old man. Seeing that he had Trower at a disadvantage, he quickly reached for his belt knife and swung it at full speed towards his adversary. Trower saw the attack coming and grabbed Ben by the arm, stopping the knife in mid-swing. Markus then twisted his arm until he heard something snap and the knife dropped to the floor.
Before Ben could react to the breaking of his arm, a fist crashed into his face, bloodying his nose. Trower then picked up Ben’s wooden chair and smashed it hard it into his head. Ben fell backwards and landed on his back. Scrambling to his feet, the mayor tried to get away but Markus grabbed him by the hair and was pulling him close. Twisting, he slammed his face several times into a nearby mirror. Ben screamed as the shards of broken glass cut into his skin, leaving his face a torn and bloody ruin.
Trower released his grip on Ben’s hair and threw him back to the ground. Ben was now on his knees, and horror filled his eyes.
“Please don’t kill me, Markus, it was six years ago! We didn’t know what we were thinking, we were drunk, we—“ Ben never had a chance to finish his sentence. Trower had leaped into the air and delivered a flying kick to the neck. The mayor’s head snapped back, and he fell over onto the floor, his neck broken.
* * * * *
Markus did not look back as he rode off into the darkness away from Rabat. His whole life was changed now; nothing was the same. All he had left now was his horse. Memories of his little sister kept coming back to him, but he tried to push them away. She was so full of innocence, so good and pure. But now she was gone, taken away by cold-blooded killers known as the Novas. And he, Markus Trower had avenged her by killing them. He began to wonder if he was doing her wrong by killing in her name. Four men had died tonight because of her. Was this what she would have wanted?
But it didn’t matter. It had to happen. “A life for a life,” Markus muttered to himself, knowing in his heart that he had done the right thing.
While on his way to Rabat, Markus had wished for death, longed for it, and decided that killing the Novas would be his last accomplishment on Earth, but now, his point of view had changed. After killing the mayor, he felt different. He did have a reason to hold on, and now was not the time to let go. He felt that he would be doing his sister wrong by giving up. She would want him to live the life he always wanted. And that was why he had to hold on. As much as he had longed for death, there were other reasons for him to live. God had helped him survive, and he believed that that meant something. His time here was not over yet, he told himself, he still had much to do, and there were others out there that needed him. He could make his dead family proud, and fight for the lives of others.
And that is the story of Markus Trower.
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| Posted: 30 Aug 2008 01:14 |
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| Posted: 30 Aug 2008 15:47 |
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Cool, I was kind of reminded of Jonah Hex as I read the ending. He's a hero that kills, but reluctantly.
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| Posted: 30 Aug 2008 17:18 |
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Jonah Hex. I don't know him.
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| Posted: 30 Aug 2008 17:38 |
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Quote:
Sweet, you should make it longer and put it a book.
{forgot to comment on this earlier} I have planned on doing that. I just haven't had time lately. I thought about starting with him as a young innoncent boy on the farm, and then he gets conscripted into the military, and undergoes many unpleasant expierences im the war. Then he comes back and finds out his sister had been murdered. I also have considered changing the circumstances of Alannah's murder.
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| Posted: 30 Aug 2008 22:38 |
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Jonah Hex Ex-confederate turned bounty hunter.
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| Posted: 30 Aug 2008 23:40 |
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Huh. I never heard of him before. That comic looks pretty interesting.
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| Posted: 31 Aug 2008 19:05 |
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Really? Hex is an old favorite of mine. At one point in the 80's his book was canceled and restarted as just Hex. He winds up in a post apocalyptic future.
Of course he's got a new series out now that's put him back in the good old west. So far from what I've gotten my hands on though I still like the original series the best. He seemed more human back then. Newer stories make it harder to relate to the character.
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| Posted: 31 Aug 2008 19:33 |
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I read that article on him on the superhero wiki. I may have to check him out someday.
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