rmoore
06-21-2010, 03:20 AM
Pay the Piper
The last of the sweet, haunting notes from the pipe faded into the trees. Like stunted, windswept trees the crowd of people who had gathered to observe the fateful encounter between the Mayor and the Piper stood in the middle of Main Street, eyes glazed. As the music faded, consciousness slowly resurrected itself amongst the crowd. One by one, the villagers realized their terrible loss and cried out in despair. Their sorrow soon turned to anger at the monster who had stolen their children away, and it was not long before the crowd began roaring for the Piper’s blood. However, cooler heads soon prevailed. A village meeting was called in the square.
“We should all go after him! Make the Piper pay!” cried the cooper.
“Nay, we should send only our best hunters!” roared the thatcher.
“We should seek help from the King!” pleaded the mayor.
The clamour continued on in this manner for many long minutes. When all involved parties had paused to catch their breath, a new voice stepped forward.
“The Piper has already shown he can best us. What would we gain by sending a hundred of our strongest men after him, only to have them fall asleep at a few notes on his flute? A single villager would be much better. One man could sneak after the Piper unnoticed and catch the villain!” The speaker was a dark-haired farmer by the name of Tad, who was now gazing around the square to see if he had turned the hearts of the bloodthirsty villagers.
The mayor and a few of the elder villagers drew aside. Nothing could be heard from them but hurried whispers, and naught seen but quick furtive glances at Tad. Several minutes later, they broke apart again. The mayor stepped forward, and clearing his throat he said: “We have debated the merits of your plans, and have decided on how to get our children back. One man will go, alone, so as not to be detected. Do we have any volunteers?”
The men who moments ago were clamouring in a horde for the piper’s blood now stared at their bootstraps at the thought of facing the piper alone. For a dreadfully long moment it seemed as if there would be no volunteer, but then;
“Every moment we spend locked in indecision is another moment we will never spend with our children. I will go, and return with the head of the piper!” declared Tad, to a wave of cheers from the villagers. Grabbing his pack and his bow, the village’s champion and one hope of triumph departed into the forest, ears cocked for the sound of children’s laughter.
- - -
Silently, he crept through the low-hanging branches, following the jubilant giggles ahead. It had been hours since he left the village, and he was finally closing in on his quarry. An amused chuckle suddenly broke out over the laughter, followed by a short trill on a pipe. Startled, Tad paused, then moved forwards even faster. The branches tore at his clothes with a ferocity that almost made them almost seem to be alive and bloodthirsty. Unnerved, Tad began to run faster through the underbrush as creepers and vines tried viciously to snare his ankles. Roots seemed to rise out of the ground to trip him, and he stumbled and fell. That same eerie amused chuckle rose out of the bushes ahead.
“Show yourself!” cried Tad. “If you have an ounce of courage or decency, you will show yourself, coward!”
A cheeky trill on a pipe was his only answer as the vines retracted into the ground, releasing Tad. Shaken, he brushed himself off and sprang to his feet, sprinting into the underbrush to follow distant laughter.
- - -
It was not long before Tad’s quarry stopped. Realizing the Piper was no longer on the move, Tad crept forwards even more cautiously, trying to appear as part of the forest. Peering through the dense branches of a bush, he looked out onto a large clearing in the middle of the forest. A large pillar of grey rock stood almost directly in the middle, looking like the thumb of an angry god. It was here that Tad got his first glimpse of the Piper.
Atop the rock he perched, clad in peculiar clothes, baggy, striped in yellow and red. A strange hat made of felt lay atop his head, and a simple wooden pipe hung from his neck. Dusting off his delicate hands, he put it to his lips and began to play a cheerful, joyous tune. It was not until the children began to dance to the tune that Tad noticed them. There were over a hundred of them gathered around the rock, looking like some cruel parody of worship. Expressions of mindless joy and happiness were frozen onto their faces, and they began to giggle and jump around to the friendly melody from the pipe. As the tempo of the song increased, the Piper himself began to dance, jumping and kicking his heels like a man possessed.
Carefully, Tad pulled his stout wooden bow from his back. Slipping an arrow from the quiver at his waist, he slowly nocked it to the string, careful not to shake the bush camouflaging him. Pulling the arrow back and sighting down the shaft on the heart of the Piper, he paused for a moment, glancing at the children to remind him why this was necessary. His glance turned into a horrified stare as he beheld the children.
They were still bounding around to the Piper’s tune, but not with any of the happiness of before. Anger and fear contorted their faces as their bodies bounded around, refusing to listen to what their minds commanded. Discordant notes began slipping into the pipe’s melody, transforming it into something altogether more sinister. The children slowly began to shrink, their bodies distorting and changing. Hair sprouted from their faces, and long, skinny teeth from their jaws. Tad watched, petrified, as the children he had helped raise were changed into something different, something evil. Once again, he took aim on the Piper, and was about to loose when the Piper saw him.
Bright blue eyes locked with his, and Tad’s whole world went black.
When he came to, Tad was laying at the foot of the rock monolith in the clearing. Rats surrounded him, hundreds of them. Several were even sitting on his chest. Horrified, he attempted to move, but found his limbs ignored his commands. Scraps of children’s clothing littered the ground around him and hung from some of the rats. The Piper sat atop of the rock, casually cleaning his nails. He glanced at him, smiled, and began to play once more.
- - -
Some months later, word went round that a faraway town was suffering a sudden terrible plague of rats. They had showed up suddenly one day, and try as they might, the villagers could not be rid of them. Fortunately, they had found just the man for the job.
This is my first submission on this site. I don't write much, but I did this for an English project (in which we wrote an alternative version of a fairytale, in the same style) a while back and decided recently that I wanted more feedback on it. It's definitely not my best work, but it's the only one I feel confident sharing. If you would be so kind as to provide comments and criticism I would be very grateful.
The last of the sweet, haunting notes from the pipe faded into the trees. Like stunted, windswept trees the crowd of people who had gathered to observe the fateful encounter between the Mayor and the Piper stood in the middle of Main Street, eyes glazed. As the music faded, consciousness slowly resurrected itself amongst the crowd. One by one, the villagers realized their terrible loss and cried out in despair. Their sorrow soon turned to anger at the monster who had stolen their children away, and it was not long before the crowd began roaring for the Piper’s blood. However, cooler heads soon prevailed. A village meeting was called in the square.
“We should all go after him! Make the Piper pay!” cried the cooper.
“Nay, we should send only our best hunters!” roared the thatcher.
“We should seek help from the King!” pleaded the mayor.
The clamour continued on in this manner for many long minutes. When all involved parties had paused to catch their breath, a new voice stepped forward.
“The Piper has already shown he can best us. What would we gain by sending a hundred of our strongest men after him, only to have them fall asleep at a few notes on his flute? A single villager would be much better. One man could sneak after the Piper unnoticed and catch the villain!” The speaker was a dark-haired farmer by the name of Tad, who was now gazing around the square to see if he had turned the hearts of the bloodthirsty villagers.
The mayor and a few of the elder villagers drew aside. Nothing could be heard from them but hurried whispers, and naught seen but quick furtive glances at Tad. Several minutes later, they broke apart again. The mayor stepped forward, and clearing his throat he said: “We have debated the merits of your plans, and have decided on how to get our children back. One man will go, alone, so as not to be detected. Do we have any volunteers?”
The men who moments ago were clamouring in a horde for the piper’s blood now stared at their bootstraps at the thought of facing the piper alone. For a dreadfully long moment it seemed as if there would be no volunteer, but then;
“Every moment we spend locked in indecision is another moment we will never spend with our children. I will go, and return with the head of the piper!” declared Tad, to a wave of cheers from the villagers. Grabbing his pack and his bow, the village’s champion and one hope of triumph departed into the forest, ears cocked for the sound of children’s laughter.
- - -
Silently, he crept through the low-hanging branches, following the jubilant giggles ahead. It had been hours since he left the village, and he was finally closing in on his quarry. An amused chuckle suddenly broke out over the laughter, followed by a short trill on a pipe. Startled, Tad paused, then moved forwards even faster. The branches tore at his clothes with a ferocity that almost made them almost seem to be alive and bloodthirsty. Unnerved, Tad began to run faster through the underbrush as creepers and vines tried viciously to snare his ankles. Roots seemed to rise out of the ground to trip him, and he stumbled and fell. That same eerie amused chuckle rose out of the bushes ahead.
“Show yourself!” cried Tad. “If you have an ounce of courage or decency, you will show yourself, coward!”
A cheeky trill on a pipe was his only answer as the vines retracted into the ground, releasing Tad. Shaken, he brushed himself off and sprang to his feet, sprinting into the underbrush to follow distant laughter.
- - -
It was not long before Tad’s quarry stopped. Realizing the Piper was no longer on the move, Tad crept forwards even more cautiously, trying to appear as part of the forest. Peering through the dense branches of a bush, he looked out onto a large clearing in the middle of the forest. A large pillar of grey rock stood almost directly in the middle, looking like the thumb of an angry god. It was here that Tad got his first glimpse of the Piper.
Atop the rock he perched, clad in peculiar clothes, baggy, striped in yellow and red. A strange hat made of felt lay atop his head, and a simple wooden pipe hung from his neck. Dusting off his delicate hands, he put it to his lips and began to play a cheerful, joyous tune. It was not until the children began to dance to the tune that Tad noticed them. There were over a hundred of them gathered around the rock, looking like some cruel parody of worship. Expressions of mindless joy and happiness were frozen onto their faces, and they began to giggle and jump around to the friendly melody from the pipe. As the tempo of the song increased, the Piper himself began to dance, jumping and kicking his heels like a man possessed.
Carefully, Tad pulled his stout wooden bow from his back. Slipping an arrow from the quiver at his waist, he slowly nocked it to the string, careful not to shake the bush camouflaging him. Pulling the arrow back and sighting down the shaft on the heart of the Piper, he paused for a moment, glancing at the children to remind him why this was necessary. His glance turned into a horrified stare as he beheld the children.
They were still bounding around to the Piper’s tune, but not with any of the happiness of before. Anger and fear contorted their faces as their bodies bounded around, refusing to listen to what their minds commanded. Discordant notes began slipping into the pipe’s melody, transforming it into something altogether more sinister. The children slowly began to shrink, their bodies distorting and changing. Hair sprouted from their faces, and long, skinny teeth from their jaws. Tad watched, petrified, as the children he had helped raise were changed into something different, something evil. Once again, he took aim on the Piper, and was about to loose when the Piper saw him.
Bright blue eyes locked with his, and Tad’s whole world went black.
When he came to, Tad was laying at the foot of the rock monolith in the clearing. Rats surrounded him, hundreds of them. Several were even sitting on his chest. Horrified, he attempted to move, but found his limbs ignored his commands. Scraps of children’s clothing littered the ground around him and hung from some of the rats. The Piper sat atop of the rock, casually cleaning his nails. He glanced at him, smiled, and began to play once more.
- - -
Some months later, word went round that a faraway town was suffering a sudden terrible plague of rats. They had showed up suddenly one day, and try as they might, the villagers could not be rid of them. Fortunately, they had found just the man for the job.
This is my first submission on this site. I don't write much, but I did this for an English project (in which we wrote an alternative version of a fairytale, in the same style) a while back and decided recently that I wanted more feedback on it. It's definitely not my best work, but it's the only one I feel confident sharing. If you would be so kind as to provide comments and criticism I would be very grateful.