Westerfield: Chapter 11

“Won’t you invite your elder brother into your home Samuel? I’d love to meet your lovely tenant." Obarin grinned at his little brother, his lips curling into a smile filled with deviant malice as he spoke. "Such a beauty she is, I’ve spent a great time watching her.” Obarin’s voice carried to it a tone like sweet poison, a trait that he used to lure his victims into the swamps. The swamps of Westerfield were the perfect places to hide the corpses...And over the centuries, he had hidden quite a few. The forest was the perfect place to murder someone, for it had been let to grow rampant by the townspeople. They feared disturbing any spirits that took refuge there and because of their fear, no one truly knew how large it stretched.

At the change of tone in his voice, Samuels face hardened into a look of even greater displeasure. Samuel feared that this would happen, that Obarin would try to shake things up again. Obarin loved to play games on his sibling; it was an old favorite pastime from back before the slaughter of their family.

Staring at Obarin, Samuel set his jaw and spoke. "I’ll see to it brother, that you never come into contact with Alana. She will not be one of your countless victims. I will use everything I have to keep her safe from you.” Samuel’s eyes shone with conviction, for he truly meant what he said. He would do anything to protect the innocent from harm. Samuel felt this way especially when the innocent were only in trouble because Obarin felt it was necessary to play sick and twisted games. Being centuries old and still unable to finish your vendetta was a trying task. Obarin had set his goal too high, and become frustrated. His frustration turned to more anger towards Westerfields citizens. It is in the blood vendetta that Obarin and Samuel were different. While Samuel agreed with his brother that their family needed to be avenged, he wanted only the guilty to suffer for the crimes committed against their family; Obarin wanted the world to burn.


Samuel’s only family sat before him, and yet he had no true love for Obarin. Any amount of love for him had faded when he had begun killing. Samuel realized there was no true way to obtain revenge unless you forgave, and he had forgiven many people over his lifetime. Samuel had looked up to his big brother before, but now he merely tolerated his unruly behavior and tried to keep the innocents safe from harm. Samuel had become the buffer zone between the world outside and his brother's fury.

Now all that existed between them was the understanding that they were family, and because they were family, a certain amount of caring should be shown between them. Like most siblings, Samuel and Obarin had a bond, but that bond had grown weaker between them when Samuel had protected the town by having curfew written into law. His action had the distinct sent of betrayal to Obarin, and for a while, even Samuel was in danger from his brother's murdering ways. However, now they were in a comfortable arrangement, Obarin respected his little brother's choice of defense, as long as he was not interrupted while playing with his victims.

Hearing Samuel adamant about protecting Alana from him caused Obarin to smile as he thought up a new game. As he grinned down at his younger, though older in appearance brother, Obarin showed his sharp teeth. They glinted in the setting sun as Samuel looked up at him. He stood slowly, his tight leather boots landing softly on the painted floor of the porch in front of the rocking chair. Leaning down to Samuel’s level and placing his hands on either side of the rocking chair Obarin smiled in his brother's face and spoke in a quiet, deadly tone.

The End

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