Wow, I'm not setting too great of a track record! Well, this one's worth the delay, I hope. It took me a while, and I wrote it longhand, so there's no timestamp. I would request some input, both on the story continuity and the character of Victor. Anywho, here you are!
3/8/10
Prompt: “Eternity is far too long to hold a grudge.” (NaNo)
He stared out the window into the darkening sky, his fingers clinching unconsciously as he watched the ominous clouds gathering in the distance. Henri was at it again. Damn. He loathed the suave Parisian. How long had it been since the betrayal? A decade? A century? He couldn’t remember. All he remembered was the image, the picture of Henri standing before him, the lovely Caroline on his arm, her eyes glassy and vacant.
Victor had spat in his face, snarling as he struggled vainly to free himself, to free Caroline. Henri had been his best friend, his sole confidant, yet had turned on him at the earliest moment. Henri had always coveted Victor’s happiness with Caroline, but Victor had been too blinded, too enmeshed in his paradise to notice his friend’s withdrawal. That had only made the betrayal more painful.
Henri’s soldiers had come in the night, too many of them for Victor to fight. He had commanded Caroline to leave, to flee, yet she had refused to leave his side. That had been their undoing. The soldiers had trussed Victor up, chaining him to the wall, then left the room, dragging Caro along with them. Victor had struggled, had cursed, but Henri had power beyond any Victor could dream of. Once, they had been equals, but now Victor suspected that Henri had struck a pact with something far more powerful than even Henri realized.
It had been at least an hour before anyone had entered the room again—this time, it was Henri, with Victor’s Caroline hanging off his arm. She stared blindly into space, her eyes blank and empty, glazed over as if under a spell. Victor had raged then, nearly tearing his bindings out of the wall, but even one as strong as he could not break iron chains.
Henri had merely laughed, tilting Caro’s head up so he could kiss her viciously. She made no movements, neither to stop nor encourage. Henri had stared at Victor the whole time, his cold eyes taunting. Victor had turned into an animal, wild snorts and curses ripping from his throat until it was raw, and blood began to fleck his lips. Henri left then, his hand resting blatantly on Caroline’s hip. The soldiers had taken Victor then, dragging him away and locking him in one of Henri’s many towers.
That had been years ago. Victor had tried to escape time and time gain, but the safeguards proved too much, even for him. And so he waited. For how long, he knew not, but still he waited, hoping for the day when Henri would slip. He almost had, once, and victor still had the hideous scars crisscrossing his body from that terrible day.
Henri had made a habit of visiting Victor, of telling him little things about Caroline. Each story, each recounting of the shameful things Henri forced her to do was like a knife to Victor’s heart. He stored them deep, never letting Henri see his rage…at least, until the day Henri informed him that Caroline was dead.
Some inside Victor had snapped that day. His control, his sanity, he knew not, but what restraint he’d shown in the past was gone. He’d attacked Henri with his bare hands, nearly strangling the loathsome man before the guards managed to pry him off. Henri had retaliated with a vengeance, whipping Victor until not one inch of skin remained unmarred. And then he had left.
He hadn’t returned since then, and Victor bided his time, hoping he would be forgotten as the years dragged by. Maybe he had been, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that now was the time for action. If he didn’t exact his revenge now, Henri would keep him captive for eternity, and that was far to long too hold a grudge, no, not even a grudge, far too long to hold the abject pain of betrayal without acting on it. Victor was prepared, his strength gathered, and tonight was the night. Henri would die. By the end of the night, Henri would die.
Word Count: 677
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Loving the plot and situation! That's a really cool dynamic to explore, the best-friend-turned-bitter-enemy. It's so much more painful that way. And I think you could play that up a bit more, by going into the relationship they had before the betrayal. That will make it all the more biting, and I think Victor's confusion and disbelief will add to the emotional landscape.
ReplyDeleteStructure-wise, I think you have some work to do. You tell us the whole story, but it's all seen from a great distance through the filter of time. Everything exciting "had" happened already, and the constant use of the word "had" really removes us from the action. And there are so many ways you could fix that! You could just tell the story from the beginning, and get rid of the framing device. You could tell it as flashback. You could sneakilly drop the "had beens" after the first few times, as by then the reader has presumable figured it out.
Some picky things: At first, it seems that being a Suave Parisian is perhaps Henri's biggest fault. It sets the wrong tone for the piece.
"Hand resting blatantly." Get rid of Blatantly. If his hand is there, that's blatant. Using the word is redundant.
That's mostly what I can think of right now. In general, though, I feel like you tell us a lot about Victor's state of mind and the situation in general. If you can find more ways to show things, and include more scenes, the audience will be able to identify with Victor much more. Removing the "had" filter will be a good start in reducing that distance.
Good story, though. You've pulled off a fairly complex scenario, and I'd be interested to see it improved and finished!