Post by Orfeo on Nov 9, 2016 2:49:49 GMT -5
It was a very long while before things finally died down. Her death was a shock, and thus he ran, not knowing what else to do and fearing that history would once more repeat itself. He didn't kill their daughter, but how would he know if the Alpha knew better? The searing memories of that pack from the past were ever more present as he stared at her body. He was innocent, but this time he knew better, and wouldn't allow himself to be caught red handed once more. So he ran and didn't look back, did what he did best and created not one or two, but eight different new identities. For the months that passed afterwards, he struggled with juggling being one man to the other, acting in a different way with different people in different towns, working to remove himself, until only an extremely feint memory was left of the man he once was. Willem Hearthfire was no more to the eyes and ears of the general public. He was other men from other countries of from the local county. He avoided shifters as best he could, though managed to slip through with silver lies whenever he was confronted with one. The few times he came face-to-face with trouble he managed to slip away unnoticed, managing to go through the whole time since that day without needing to lift a single finger to defend himself with.
Truly the one and only thing he kept about his past self.
But life got easier. People did always say that life became easier, but Willem was always dubious about it. Watchful, and weary. Yet to be fair, he'd never really given it the opportunity. It was always one hasty illegal job after another, always under the grasp of some powerful family or the next, never really in full control. He did have a goal, the one he always did have. He was, after all, a drifter, looking to find his perfect slice of paradise.
Paradise, a dream that seemed so far. Yet he looked at himself and at all the identities he held, and Willem knew that this dream was now in his grasp. Not quite, but he could get it now. There really was nothing holding him back, nothing except for the past he was running and putting behind. She was always in the back of his mind though, but at least the bad dreams had gone.
His beard had grown out and his hair was messy and unwashed. He was dirty, but he really didn't need to be. It wasn't like Willem had no money nor that he was running out. It was really just a lifestyle choice by this point, figuring that the attention he got from looking unkempt was better than that he would get by being the stranger that showed up dressed in flashy clothing. His desire to attract the attention of elegant and beautiful women was all but gone. He was focused, honestly, on his life by now.
"Or so it would have been," spoke a man in a soft tone of voice, though it was also cold and unwelcoming. A strange sound in contrast to the warm surroundings, the chirping of the birds, the rustling of autumn leaves. The man, who had sunken eyes, dipped his head a little to get a better look at Willem's face, "had you had your way. Is this all correct, Willem Hearthfire?"
Willem looked up at the man for a few seconds, noticed the lack of compassion in his eyes, then let his head drop in defeat before nodding softly. "Y-Yes," he spoke softly, which garnered the curious murmuring of the crowd gathered around him. He tried to listen to what they were saying, swore he could make out some calling for the ending of his life and others for mercy, and yet he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. As if they purposefully were teasing him. "I was heading East... running for paradise."
He tried to move his hands, though found them chained. He almost laughed at himself, remembering the position he was in. Shirtless, forced on his knees with his legs folded under his body. He sat on the dirt, between two large pine trees, either of his arms outstretched flat to either side of his body. To his wrists were attached cuffs, which were linked to taut iron chains that were hooked to the trunks of the pines. He glanced slightly at his left arm and noticed it was still quivering, but after around three hours of being in the same position and the pain had numbed his sensations to the point that, if he closed his eyes, he could convince himself that he had no arms. Willem's legs were held down by the ankles with iron cuffs which were pounded into the ground with large iron rods, keeping him from even standing. Thus he sat, humiliated, in front of a crowd, a pack. All stared at him, but he could only bring himself to stare back at them every so often, for a few seconds, before some strange shame forced him to look away.
The day was beautiful too. It wasn't too hot nor too cold either. There was a gentle breeze blowing from the north-east. Everything seemed to be ever more lively as well. It was all peaceful around him.
"Just a few more days," he continued, softly, "and I would have made it. To paradise. A beautiful land. Someplace to forget everything, and where nobody knew me. Start a new life. Be a new person."
The judge watched him, then shook his head. "Did you really expect to run from us?"
How Willem wanted to laugh. "I... I was close." He licked at his dried lips then closed his eyes, trying to ignore the painful buzzing at the tips of his fingers.
The judge turned and faced the crowd of gathered pack members, raised his hands high in the air, then made a motion to move their attention from him and unto Willem. "My fellows, the time of final judgement comes to a close. You have listened to the testimony, witnessed the torture, obtained every slice of relevant knowledge straight from the horses mouth." Willem couldn't help but think that the man had a strange lisp to his voice, a quirk, and for some reason focused solely on the fact that his Ts were a little too sharp. "He stands accused of the murder of the Alpha's beloved daughter, and heir to the Alphaship!"
"I did not kill Samantha!!" Screamed Willem in a sudden rage as he struggled against the chains, struggled to get back on his feet, looking from one fact to the next, trying to find eyes that believed him. "I did not lay a single finger on her! You were family to me! You were all family! Why would I kill my family!?" But all he saw was rage, fear, and disgust. Nobody trusted him, and as his eyes fell back to those of the judge, who watched him with what seemed like some discomfort.
"And for this crime, the current Alpha has sentenced you, Willem Hearthfire, to death." Spoke the judge, as the executioner strolled up to him with his faithful ax.
"I... I did not kill Samantha!" Willem looked back at the man with the ax, and tracked him till he stood by his side. "I did not kill her. I did no wrong." And finally, he let himself go and looked down at the ground. "I didn't kill her," he murmured, and closed his eyes right before the ax swung.
Willem's head fell with a thud, and the people watched for a few moments, until finally, they turned, satisfied that justice had been served.
Truly the one and only thing he kept about his past self.
But life got easier. People did always say that life became easier, but Willem was always dubious about it. Watchful, and weary. Yet to be fair, he'd never really given it the opportunity. It was always one hasty illegal job after another, always under the grasp of some powerful family or the next, never really in full control. He did have a goal, the one he always did have. He was, after all, a drifter, looking to find his perfect slice of paradise.
Paradise, a dream that seemed so far. Yet he looked at himself and at all the identities he held, and Willem knew that this dream was now in his grasp. Not quite, but he could get it now. There really was nothing holding him back, nothing except for the past he was running and putting behind. She was always in the back of his mind though, but at least the bad dreams had gone.
His beard had grown out and his hair was messy and unwashed. He was dirty, but he really didn't need to be. It wasn't like Willem had no money nor that he was running out. It was really just a lifestyle choice by this point, figuring that the attention he got from looking unkempt was better than that he would get by being the stranger that showed up dressed in flashy clothing. His desire to attract the attention of elegant and beautiful women was all but gone. He was focused, honestly, on his life by now.
"Or so it would have been," spoke a man in a soft tone of voice, though it was also cold and unwelcoming. A strange sound in contrast to the warm surroundings, the chirping of the birds, the rustling of autumn leaves. The man, who had sunken eyes, dipped his head a little to get a better look at Willem's face, "had you had your way. Is this all correct, Willem Hearthfire?"
Willem looked up at the man for a few seconds, noticed the lack of compassion in his eyes, then let his head drop in defeat before nodding softly. "Y-Yes," he spoke softly, which garnered the curious murmuring of the crowd gathered around him. He tried to listen to what they were saying, swore he could make out some calling for the ending of his life and others for mercy, and yet he couldn't quite make out what they were saying. As if they purposefully were teasing him. "I was heading East... running for paradise."
He tried to move his hands, though found them chained. He almost laughed at himself, remembering the position he was in. Shirtless, forced on his knees with his legs folded under his body. He sat on the dirt, between two large pine trees, either of his arms outstretched flat to either side of his body. To his wrists were attached cuffs, which were linked to taut iron chains that were hooked to the trunks of the pines. He glanced slightly at his left arm and noticed it was still quivering, but after around three hours of being in the same position and the pain had numbed his sensations to the point that, if he closed his eyes, he could convince himself that he had no arms. Willem's legs were held down by the ankles with iron cuffs which were pounded into the ground with large iron rods, keeping him from even standing. Thus he sat, humiliated, in front of a crowd, a pack. All stared at him, but he could only bring himself to stare back at them every so often, for a few seconds, before some strange shame forced him to look away.
The day was beautiful too. It wasn't too hot nor too cold either. There was a gentle breeze blowing from the north-east. Everything seemed to be ever more lively as well. It was all peaceful around him.
"Just a few more days," he continued, softly, "and I would have made it. To paradise. A beautiful land. Someplace to forget everything, and where nobody knew me. Start a new life. Be a new person."
The judge watched him, then shook his head. "Did you really expect to run from us?"
How Willem wanted to laugh. "I... I was close." He licked at his dried lips then closed his eyes, trying to ignore the painful buzzing at the tips of his fingers.
The judge turned and faced the crowd of gathered pack members, raised his hands high in the air, then made a motion to move their attention from him and unto Willem. "My fellows, the time of final judgement comes to a close. You have listened to the testimony, witnessed the torture, obtained every slice of relevant knowledge straight from the horses mouth." Willem couldn't help but think that the man had a strange lisp to his voice, a quirk, and for some reason focused solely on the fact that his Ts were a little too sharp. "He stands accused of the murder of the Alpha's beloved daughter, and heir to the Alphaship!"
"I did not kill Samantha!!" Screamed Willem in a sudden rage as he struggled against the chains, struggled to get back on his feet, looking from one fact to the next, trying to find eyes that believed him. "I did not lay a single finger on her! You were family to me! You were all family! Why would I kill my family!?" But all he saw was rage, fear, and disgust. Nobody trusted him, and as his eyes fell back to those of the judge, who watched him with what seemed like some discomfort.
"And for this crime, the current Alpha has sentenced you, Willem Hearthfire, to death." Spoke the judge, as the executioner strolled up to him with his faithful ax.
"I... I did not kill Samantha!" Willem looked back at the man with the ax, and tracked him till he stood by his side. "I did not kill her. I did no wrong." And finally, he let himself go and looked down at the ground. "I didn't kill her," he murmured, and closed his eyes right before the ax swung.
Willem's head fell with a thud, and the people watched for a few moments, until finally, they turned, satisfied that justice had been served.