The white march

Hi everyone,

This short story is a submission to a contest ran by @lymmerik. The idea is to write a story in two parts. Part one should end in a cliffhanger, part two has to resolve the cliffhanger and end the story. Both parts can not be longer than 301 words. This is the first part of my story: The white march.

I quietly march forward through the meadow, my eyes fixated on the tiny village in front of me. Ten almost identical houses next to each other, separated by only a tiny yard and what looks like an identical stone statue close to their front doors. Two of the houses are still lit, and out of the chimney of one of them comes smoke. An odd sight on this warm and bright summer night.

Myrthe and Laïs follow closely behind me. The full moon guides us forward. The plains of wet grass feel like a red carpet, thrown out as a warm welcome. The silence is comforting. We’re getting close.

I peek through the curtains to see what’s inside the house. In the left corner a couch and a small table on top of a bearskin rug. Candles all over the place, which makes for a cosy atmosphere in combination with the crisp sound of the timber from the fireplace. I try to adjust my angle a little bit, but the cracks between the curtains are too small to get a thorough image of the room. I’m still not sure what we’re looking for. Myrthe and Laïs are getting impatient, but await my orders. Quietly.

A baby cries. I sneak to the front door which opens without having to touch it, as if it wasn’t locked on purpose. The weeping pulls me closer to a white package in front of the fireplace. I grab the baby. Myrthe and Laïs are happy. I can feel it.

Footsteps in the hallway disturb our peaceful moment together. “Lisa, baby, are you all right? Who’s there?” A man enters the room and looks at us, terrified. He quickly draws his gun. “Put her down, now!”

I hope you enjoyed this first part. If you want to know how this story ends, i'll post part 2 in the upcoming week.

Thanks for reading.
See you next time.

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