Nowhere to be Found

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Chapter One

An Unexpected Event

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August 18th, 1711

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Kelsi noticed the man as soon as she left the house, he had stood on the other side of the canal surveying the door for hours. When Kelsi had darted through the jagged streets she had expected to lose him among the flow of workers that passed around her but the man continued to follow. Glancing behind she noticed him dart toward one of the cloth stools, hiding his face behind a red scarf. There was no doubt in Kelsi's mind that this man was after her, she tried to tuck her noticeable red hair under the white lace cap as she pulled up her dragging skirt and side tracked into an open tavern.

The smell of alcohol over-powered her and made her eye's water as they adjusted to the dark interior. A fat hairy man lay across the floor, a puddle of sick surrounding his mouth. Kelsi stepped over him, careful not to place her shoe in his vomit as she retched at the aroma. She headed for a seat at the back that was shrouded in the shadows, sliding in she placed her basket under the table and hunched over her arms, trying to hind herself within the folds of the dress. Her head rested on her hands and the heat of the tavern didn't help quench her dry mouth however the humidity clung to her thick woollen clothing like the many hands of an imp. The heat began to smother her mouth and fill up her lungs as if the flames of execution were once again ravishing her body, her head jolted upwards unable to cope with the memories. But the laughter of the tavern slowly turned into the screams of her sisters as the flames had torn themselves through their bodies, her mind was do full of the events of the past she was unable to concentrate on her pursuer and as he entered the tavern her white face was noticeable in her dark corner.

A hand was suddenly placed on Kelsi's shoulder and she shot straight back into the present, glaring directly into the gaze of a somewhat recognisable old man. His face was covered in wrinkles and his rough hand was the same texture as her woollen cloak. He studied her as if not quite sure she was the one he had been searching for.

"It's you," he whispered in disbelief as he sat down in the seat opposite her, not removing his hand from her arm. "You isn't changed in ye on 45 years."

"I'm sorry you're mistaken sir." Kelsi tried to stand up and leave, now certain she couldn't ever venture out of the house again.

"Kelsi, it me Heiko ...Heiko Claasen." The familiarity of Dutch comforted Kelsi's but she could not let that show.

Kelsi's heart began to race as she stopped, had it really been so long since the downfall of the Hive. Heiko had been a boy, so young, now he looked older than the backside of a worn out mull. Kelsi had forgotten what it was like to see time pass, watch those who had been young bloom into adult hood and then wilt into death. She turned back and looked at the old man, his eyes were a milky grey but she remembered his young bright, terrified eyes when they had hidden in his basement.

"Yes," she couldn't say anything else, she couldn't tell him of how his mother had screamed as the flames had slowly consumed her body.

"You haven't changed, I'd heard you didn't change but to see you like how you were when I was a child, like a ghost." He stared in disbelief as he began to relax into the chair.

"Would you care for a drink?" she asked, there was no need to run, she owed him that at least.

"Ja. Ja."

Heiko's stare followed her in disbelief as she headed for the bar. Sighing, she ordered two large glasses, not free from any stares - it was strange for a women to be in a tavern, let alone ordering drinks. The bar man handed her two pints and she paid him, ignoring his glare. Kelsi headed back for the seat and placed an ale in front of Heiko, he was still studying her pale, smooth skin.