Here is the back story to the adventures of Daniel. It is the premise on which the whole story rests. I wanted to put this out there for people to read and give me feed back on how this part of the story catches your attention or if it does not. Is it a good hook?
“A little more
than three hundred years ago, I don’t know exactly, your fourth
great-grandfather was nineteen and living in Denmark with his young bride. One
blustery winter night, he was traveling back from a banquet. He didn’t have his
wife with him because she was pregnant and very sick, but he had to go so that
he could give a good impression to his soon-to-be boss. He didn’t have his wife with him
because she was pregnant and very sick, but he had to go so that he could give
a good impression to his soon-to-be boss.
“Anyway,
he was traveling back when a terrible snow storm hit his village. It attacked
just as he was entering the gates. The storm got so bad that he gave up trying to
travel to his home on the other side of the spacious community. His wife would
be worried but surely she would understand. He stopped his horse and buggy at
the top of a big hill where an old neglected house stood. The house had been
empty for many years. Everyone in the village said that it was haunted, but
your grandfather decided that he didn’t have many options. He unhooked his
buggy and left it behind, walked his horse to an empty stable, and went to the
house to find shelter. As he was making his way to the stable he saw another
buggy stuck in the snow. A man was trying, unsuccessfully, to free it from a
large embankment just past the bridge that led into town. Your grandfather
decided that he would go suggest that this man come with him to the old house
to get out of the storm. The other man was more than willing to go with your
grandfather and get out of the snow. Of course, being with someone else when
going to a haunted house was also comforting for your grandfather.”
“They
struggled through the blizzard to the house and knocked on the door but there
was no answer so they let themselves in. They called out but no one seemed to
be inside. As they made their way through the house they noticed a warm breeze
coming from behind a closed door, off of the main hallway. It was very inviting
so your grandfather went in. The stranger didn’t want to follow him – he said
he would check upstairs for some blankets. Your grandfather thought that the
stranger’s reaction was very odd but he just wanted to get warm. He didn’t
worry about the stranger and let him go his own way. Your grandfather made his
way in, slowly checking every corner of the room. It seemed empty, so he found
a log by the fireplace and tossed it onto a cozy fire. Instantly the whole
fireplace was filled with fire and smoke, more than was possible from one log.
A high squealing sound followed. It grew louder and louder like the shriek of a
tea pot beginning to boil. In the next moment, an ugly old hag appeared from
nowhere. She was a small thin lady with a sunken face and beady little ice-blue
eyes that scanned the intruder wildly.”
“’What
are you doing in my house?’ She cried in a voice so terrible and loud that the
windows rattled and the fire, which had died down to normal strength,
flickered.
“‘I
know what you are doing here.’ The hag said slyly, ‘And you are not welcome!
Too many people have come to gawk at a decrepit old lady.’ Her voice was
suddenly soft and inwardly painful. She caught herself on the side of the stone
fireplace and wallowed in self pity, but that only lasted a moment. Her voice
was back to a deafening shriek in the next awful breath. ‘Well you are the last
one. You have broken into my house, threatened to steal my property, and have
used my last source of warmth.’
“Your
grandfather tried to explain that he wasn’t there to steal but the hag was too
furious to listen.”
“’Silence!”
She screamed louder than seemed possible. She threw her hands toward your
grandfather as she screamed. This action sent your grandfather flying through
the air. He then hit the couch as if a magnetic force had pulled him there. The
hag laughed wildly. She then stopped abruptly and looked at searched her
intruders soul with her eyes. ‘Ah yes,’ she said, calm as a kitten, ‘a curse!’”
“Your
grandfather tried to escape.”
“He
was petrified.”
“This
woman was obviously a witch of some kind.”
“He
tried to talk.”
“She
cut him off coldly. ‘It’s too late my friend you have wandered into paths that
you ought not to have wandered.’ She crept closer as she spoke, ‘You should
know better than to be tempted to leave the path that leads back home. Ah, but
you have been tempted, haven’t you, and now it’s too late.’ She stopped right
in front of his nose. ‘Yes, a curse. A lovely one, too.’ She spun around, leapt
to the fireplace, took a crystal goblet from the mantel, danced to a table in
the corner of the room, and stopped. She stood there for only a moment with her
back to her prey, turned around with the goblet full of green liquid, and
tiptoed back to the couch that held your grandfather bound.”
“’You
will be cursed to be my servant.’ The hag said proudly, ‘You will have to go to
many places and retrieve certain objects – for me! These objects will be
collected from different time periods, dimensions and people. You will often be
in the face of danger and the risk is too great for a woman of my age – but I need these itmes: desperately.
You will either accept this offer or you and your family will perish in the
most horrible way imaginable. You will be my slaves – for eternity!’ She said
all of this as if it was common, everyday speech. ‘
“’Any questions?’”
“’I didn’t think so.’” The witch gave no time for a response. When your grandfather
struggled to speak she ran to him, placed her boney finger to his lips, and
said, ‘Ah yes what do I mean by slavery you ask? If you do not succeed your
family will be cursed with this…little arrangement until one of your progeny
completes it successfully. Ah, and one more thing, you are nineteen years old,
yes? Your son, which your wife is carrying now, will have to start his quests
at age eighteen, if you do not succeed. His son, of course, will take on the
responsibility at age seventeen and so on until eighteen generations have
failed. When the last generation fails, the curse truly begins. You and your
family will be sent to a place where no human should ever have to go.’ She
paused again, looked at her puzzled prisioner, swished the green liquid around
in the goblet, and dipped her finger in slowly. ‘Ready?’ she asked, and then
she tossed the goblet into the fire. An
explosion rocked the house and your grandfather laid limp the couch.”
Copyright 2012 Chad
Mortensen
