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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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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."
A mini masterpiece ;)
Amusing, Comical, Disturbing and Pornographic all in one.
I salute you!
Amusing, Comical, Disturbing and Pornographic all in one.
I salute you!
Why thankyou ;)
I am actually quite proud of that. Notice the name of the village is spells MAD-VICAR, backwards...
I am actually quite proud of that. Notice the name of the village is spells MAD-VICAR, backwards...
Didn't like it. It was too crap.
Do you really thnik I went to the touble of pouring my heart and soul into it? I think not, Fence-Lover...
That was a good story I love the ending you should become a writer you are great. Please can you write some more they are so good.
LOL - cheers. We'll see about more stories, you and Crumble are the only one's who liked it, I think.
Anyway, I'm off - *leaves*
Anyway, I'm off - *leaves*
I've decided to write a spin-off to this story...
Just so you know
Just so you know
Heh, I'm all for twisted vicar stories.
A sequel is being thought of (though not very much). I think the next one will revolve around Farmer Manyboobs.
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