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In the small religious countryside village of Raciv-dam, a chase occured...
Young Betsy Bromanov was at the centre of it all. She had sensed, since leaving her little cottage that morning, that someone had been following her. There was nothing she could do now, though. Nothing she could do, that is, but run!
Run, she did. She was on a pure adrenaline rush to the head. Nothing could slow her down now, she had the power of two Betsy Bromanov's inside her to keep her speeding for hours.
To think, she had only left the house to buy some bread and pilchards, as most twenty-four year-olds do. She had turned this corner, gone down that street, across the field of beans, through the forbidden footpath and to the market. All that time she had felt it - the follower. She picked up a pace, she started to run, but the person behind her ran aswell. It had become a CHASE.
There was no going back now, all she had to do was cross Farmer Manyboobs' cornpatch without taking a bullet and she'd be priceless yards away from the church where she could claim sanctuary.
Young Betsy Bromanov had always believed in the church. If there was one place she could turn to now, the church truly was the answer. She gallopped through the cornfields, no sign of Farmer Manyboobs; but alas, tripped over a stray root.
She turned round to face the silhouette of her chaser and simply said, "I'll tell the vicar."
The silhouette moved forward into the light and uttered, "I am the vicar."
Young Betsy Bromanov was at the centre of it all. She had sensed, since leaving her little cottage that morning, that someone had been following her. There was nothing she could do now, though. Nothing she could do, that is, but run!
Run, she did. She was on a pure adrenaline rush to the head. Nothing could slow her down now, she had the power of two Betsy Bromanov's inside her to keep her speeding for hours.
To think, she had only left the house to buy some bread and pilchards, as most twenty-four year-olds do. She had turned this corner, gone down that street, across the field of beans, through the forbidden footpath and to the market. All that time she had felt it - the follower. She picked up a pace, she started to run, but the person behind her ran aswell. It had become a CHASE.
There was no going back now, all she had to do was cross Farmer Manyboobs' cornpatch without taking a bullet and she'd be priceless yards away from the church where she could claim sanctuary.
Young Betsy Bromanov had always believed in the church. If there was one place she could turn to now, the church truly was the answer. She gallopped through the cornfields, no sign of Farmer Manyboobs; but alas, tripped over a stray root.
She turned round to face the silhouette of her chaser and simply said, "I'll tell the vicar."
The silhouette moved forward into the light and uttered, "I am the vicar."
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Cool im going to go and read it now!
Okay. The spin-off is now complete...
Incidental genius.
She turned round to face the silhouette of her chaser and simply said, "I'll tell the vicar.". Everything went into Slow-mo. The silhouette moved forward into the light and uttered, "I am the vicar."
There, I've just saved your piece.
There, I've just saved your piece.
Had it featured slow-mo, it would be perfection.
Thanks guys. Plus - you're good writer, Ineedsleep, so it's nice to hear that off you. Must write follow-up...
Nice story.
Fabergé Gem wrote:
> Heh, I'm all for twisted vicar stories.
Ditto :)
Nice little snapshot there. I look forward to the follow-up.
> Heh, I'm all for twisted vicar stories.
Ditto :)
Nice little snapshot there. I look forward to the follow-up.
Cheers. One day soon I'll write another (having lost all respect in the Xbox forum) just to boost myself up.
Kickin' story. Very good, especially the bit about most 24 year olds buying pilchards.
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