Untitled; Chapter One

The grimy dirt slid under Topo's bare feet as he walked to a chair next to the fire at Arana Valle Orphanage. One of the boy orphans yelled, "Topo! Mr. Kurring said to re-fill the water buckets!" Topo sighed as he moved on to the next chore, angry that he never got one moment's peace. He plucked the bucket off the wire tied to the stick above the fire and walked to the beautiful creek known as Silver Creek. They had called it Silver Creek because of how sparkling beautiful it was and because pieces of silver were found in the first years Arana Valle Orphanage had been made. No more silver was found after the first two years the founders of the orphanage had drained it of silver. Topo dipped the bucket in and carried it back to the wire and tied it back. The fire was supposed to cook most of the bacteria and bugs in the water, filtering it free of dangerous illness.

Topo did not see the reason to filter Silver Creek water; it was so clear and some boy orphans drank it natural without being cooked and grew up to be strong and healthy. Topo did not argue with the counselors that made it his chore, though. Because he knew he needed to be on his best behavior for the Noche Fire that night. It was a little event that occured every fifth night after a full moon when all the orphans gathered around a fire and told stories until midnight. At midnight, the most famous story of all would be told, the story of the Descendant Salvador and the Man Who Escaped.
*****
Dan walked up the hill, pushing his bike along side him. He reached the top of the hill to see giant, moist fields on either side of him, with mossy green and tan brown grasses flowing in the wind. The clouds were a frightening green color, and told of bad storms to come. Dan looked down the road a bit, to see a sign that read, "Storm Shelter 2 Miles", pointing to a dirt road that drifted into the prairie. Dan stared up at the clouds, which were now lighting themselves with lightning bolts that skimmed the clouds. Dull thunder hummed above him and the wind picked up a bit.

Dan decided that he had better go ahead and ride to the storm shelter, since his home was several miles away and he might not make it back in time. He jumped on his bike and coasted down the hill and took a left on the road. He now saw a wood just a little ways in the prairie that he had not seen before he had been on the road. He looked behind him and the dull, rusting barbed-wire fence was now an old, ten foot high wooden fence covered with climbing vines and no sign of a way out. "What the bloody hell?" Dan whispered to himself. He looked around to see the fence stretch on for miles. He shook his head and continued on the road.

Not long and he was at the edge of the wood, hesitating to enter. The wood was dark and mysterious, and very frightening. He heard the 'caw' of several crows on low branches of the trees, cawing at Dan. He pushed his pedals and rode past the boundary of the wood and the crows cawed even louder and flew away in a huff. He continued to ride on the trail. Not long and he came to a carcass of a grizzly bear on the road, decaying with buzzing flies everywhere. This surprised Dan very much for two reasons; one was that grizzly bears weren't often seen in England, and two because he knew a man hadn't killed this bear, for there was no gunshot. But there was a giant spot on the bear's shoulder that looked like a rash in which flies were crawling in and out of a hole in the center of the rash.

He rode around the bear, trying to control the vomit that wished to come out of his stomach from the grotesque carcass. He continued on and eventually saw a shack in front of him. The shack was very small, old and Dan found it rather frightening. The door swinged sideways with the wind, making an eerie squeaking sound that seemed to echo throughout the wood. He got off his bike and walked cautiously towards the shack. He placed his bike up against the shack and looked through the door. The squeaking was beginning to work up his nerves, so he grabbed the door and stopped it. He couldn't see into the shack for the darkness.

He then became aware of a tingling on his hand holding the door. He looked on it to see millions of tiny black spiders with a red marking on their back that looked like the letter 'A' crawling on his hand. He let out a shrill scream and began raking the spiders off in a mad frenzy. He began tripping backwards and fell into the shack. He expected to feel the hard dirt of the ground, but felt nothing but cold darkness as he fell into a void of nothing.