Satan's Abacus Part One

1

Distant slippery footsteps could be heard down the narrow terrace of houses. Only just to be heard over the heavy patter of the never-ending rain. The blue moon shone over the whole of Sacenda with a dim, half-hearted light. This little town had never seen daylight. There was so much evil that the malevolence had wriggled its way around the sun, blocking it from view. There was so much evil that the tall walls were clammy with it, as it hung there mischievously. Some people said that it had always been like that but fact knows different. Sacenda used to be happy but something changed it.2

The houses loomed over the muddy street,  They were black and shiny with decayed wooden doors. Each house had a different heart-wrenching story carved in, like a little picture book. Not stories that spoke of rainbows, ponies and all things pretty but of disease, death and murder. Material of nightmares. And outside each house there lay large pebbles that shone pearly blue when the moon placed its weak rays on them. Like Satan’s Abacus – he was keeping track of how many victims he had left.3

There was a sudden gust of wind . It sent rain water splattering into the side of the houses making little trickling, cascading water falls over the pictures and they seemed to move eerily. There were yells of abuse and the sound of windows being slammed shut in aid to keep dry. The clouds were clearing – soon it would stop raining and go in bitter coldness. 4

Hundreds of people lived in Sacenda yet the long straight streets were completely empty. Except for one dark figure…5

Her face was concealed by shadows caused by a huge hood. Even with a cloak on it was still obvious to be a woman. She moved stealthily and swift. Whoever it was, they were moving fast. She had no shoes on and her feet were muddy and raw. Her skin was the colour of creamy milk as she had never been in the light. She was running faster and faster as the cold rain beat against her pale features…then suddenly she stopped and glared at a door.6

“2 pebbles…she’s still alive,” she murmured solemnly. 7

She tapped the door open and stepped in hesitantly. She scanned the room and as her eyes met the corner she gasped in horror.8

On a frayed, stained bed there was a thin woman writhing in immense pain. She dragged her thin arms and dug in her nails, screwing up her face. Beads of sweat trickled through the deep creases in her forehead. She made a groaning whine in a low drone. She didn’t look up at her guest and it didn’t look like she was going to. The woman was about to step closer when a voice screeched, louder than before, her name.9

“Oria? Is…that…you?” she croaked.10

Oria stopped still. “Yes,” she said.11

It was silent again except for the whining. Oria folded her arms and turned her back to her big sister. Her eyes narrowed and her whole face screwed up into a sour scowl. She gritted her teeth and turned to face her sister again. A drop of rainwater slid down her face from her wet hair. She wiped it away briskly.12

She stood silent and the rain from outside whispered at the door. She sat stiffly in a chair and leant her head on her hand not taking her eyes from her sister.13