Private Richard Garforth
It was a dark, cold, and harsh night on this day, during the winter of 1813. It had already rained heavily once today, which had turned into sleet, and now through the darkness and blustery wind, the heavens had now opened into rain once more. This was certainly not a night to be outdoors if it were at all possible as on the outskirts of a small English town, looking somewhat isolated and alone, stood what appeared to be from the outside, a plain, ordinary building. Not especially large, but not all that small either.
Inside, would have been in total darkness, if it wasn`t for several missing slates in the roof which allowed what little light from the night sky there was into the building as well as raindrops coming through the roof, and bouncing of the rafters before falling onto the floor as suddenly, the small, wooden back door, sounded like someone was kicking at it. One, two, three, and on the fourth kick, it burst open and keen to take shelter from the weather, Richard Garforth rushed in, and when trying to close the door behind him, he couldn`t help but notice the damage that he had caused, and was unable to close it properly, but luckily there was a small plank next to his feet which fitted perfectly to wedge underneath the door handle to secure it the best that he could
His clothes were wet, tattered and torn, and with raindrops still continuously dripping from his hair, looking like a man who had been living rough for a while and was grateful for any sort of shelter that he was able get. Where he was standing right now was, so dark he struggled to see his hand in front of his face, but he needed warmth, so taking careful steps, began searching around to see if he could find anything to start a fire with.
1
Suddenly, he felt something soft next to his foot which, more importantly, also appeared to be dry, so he reaches down but in doing so, he swore that he felt something soft and furry against the back of his hand which instantly makes him jump in fright as he had definitely disturbed something, whether it be a mouse or a rat, as he takes a moment before cautiously, reaching down again. Using his fingertips, he soon realizes that there were three old sacks.
Safe in the knowledge that he was standing on a stone-cold floor, he throws the sacks back down onto the floor and began searching through his coat for some matches which somehow had managed to stay dry, so without any further ado, he strikes one and throws it down onto the sacks, which didn`t take too long for them to burst into flames. Through the light of the flames, he notices some pieces of wood which he raced over to pick up and starting place some of them on the fire.
The fire was soon burning nicely away, and now he had the much-needed warmth, so he sits down, places his knees as close as he possibly could to his chest, as he began to feel some sort of comfort, which could have been made a whole lot better if he could find something to eat. Anything would do, as his rumbling stomach then tells him, even if it was a stale piece of bread, but that didn`t last for long, for as he looks around with his tired and bloodshot eyes ,and through the flames he sees, that in the center of this building, was a set of Gallows, which, quite simply, gave him the creeps straight away as he watches the rope swaying very gently from side to side in the cold breeze. It took some time for him to begin to feel at ease again, but no sooner than he did, his exhaustion swiftly took over, as he places his head on his knees, and is asleep almost immediately.
2
He had no idea how long had gone by when a spark from the fire flew softly up into the air before falling slowly down and very accurately landed exactly in the center of a hole in his trousers and onto his skin which wakes him with a jolt. He may have felt a touch better after having some sleep, but the hunger was still clearly there, he couldn`t ignore it anymore, so, after rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, food, was the only thing on his mind as he stands up, turns around, gawps in horror as the trap of the Gallows was now clearly open, and a pure white, glowing, and ghostly apparition of what looked like a man, dressed in rags, with his back to him, head in the noose, neck snapped, and moving ever so slowly in a circular motion.
Richard now has his back to the nearest wall clinging to it by his fingernails in fright as his breathing becomes erratic with his heart pumping almost through his chest and a cold sweat now clearly running down his forehead, unable to scream with questions such as, who is he? Where did he come from? When did this happen? We’re racing through his mind as no matter how much this was scaring him, at the same time he was strangely fixated by what he was seeing, so much so, that after a few minutes, and he couldn`t explain why, he began to loosen his grip on the wall until they were completely free of it and they were back by his side as he gulped, before taking a first nervous step, which was followed by another, then another, towards the Gallows, still not knowing exactly why he was doing so. It made no sense to him doing this as it could be literally anything that he was walking towards as it continued with its slow, circular motion.
3
Richard now finds himself only a few feet away, and looking up at the apparition, gawping, and still wondering why he was doing, what he was doing.
It appeared he was becoming more fascinated by the second by what he was seeing, you could also argue that it was possibly hypnotic, as his eyes continued to follow every circle it continued to do until, for some strange, unexplained reason, the noose began to turn and with it, the body. Richard`s eyes began to widen and widen until they could open no further as he promptly lost his earlier inability to scream as he now sees that the face on the body was identical to his, even with its mouth wide open and eyes dropping, there was no mistaking the fact, it was his face and now there was only one thought running through his mind now, run.
And run he did, as fast as his tired legs could carry him, and heading towards the fire knowing that the door that he had entered by was close to it. Within less than a minute, he had reached the door and removed the plank and literally flung the door open with absolutely no concern for the blustery wind and heavy rain.
He just wanted to get as far away as possible and nothing was going to stop him, as the street he was now running down which only had a minimal number of streetlights on but with the aid of some buildings and houses, which had lights on, he was able to find his way around.
Suddenly, he feels the need to stop, the exhaustion and lack of food seemed to be taking a much stronger hold on than before as he leaned against the window of what appeared to be the local Tavern and looking in, he was so envious of the patrons who were enjoying not only ale, but what appeared to nice food as well, but with not a single penny to his name and still with the fear inside of him of what he had just seen, he decided to keep moving just as fast as he possibly could which, considering his weakened state, wasn`t as nowhere as quick as he would have liked, in fact, he was becoming weaker by the second and now with every step taking a huge amount of effort each time, he stumbles down a back alley where he eventually collapses in a heap on the ground, and without a single ounce of strength in him to carry on.
4
The rain showed no sign of easing up anytime soon as Richard curls up underneath his large coat, doing the best he can to stay dry, but no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't block out the image of what he had just seen, so he decides to brave the elements, rather than put his face into any darkness when suddenly, his ears prick up, convinced that he could hear in the distance, footsteps coming towards him. He lifts his weary head up in the hope that it just might be someone ready to show pity on him by offering shelter and even maybe something to eat. But nothing could be further away from that, as he saw, literally striding towards him with a whip in one hand and hatred so etched across his face that not even the heavy rain could disguise it, the last person that he ever wanted to see and no matter how hard he tried, he simply didn`t have the energy to get away.
“Well, who do we have here then eh?” The man says now stood over him with no pity whatsoever. “Well, as I live and breathe, it`s Private Richard Garforth. 32nd Cornwall Regiment of Foot.” Before he spoke again, the man bent down s that Richard could clearly see the hatred that he had for him in his eyes.
5
“You remember me, don`t you lad, eh?” All Richard could go was nod weakly. “Yes, thought that you`d remember old Sergeant Daniel Pascoe because I certainly haven`t forgotten about you, I mean, how could I forget about a deserter and a coward such as you, eh lad. I`ve been waiting many months to catch up with. Couldn`t believe my luck just now when I saw you looking through that Tavern window. Knew it was you, straight away, and there`s no escape for you now.’ Segreant Pascoe says as he just couldn`t resist giving him one crack of his whip, as he now looks down enjoying the pain that Richard now felt.
“When I think of all those brave lads fighting Napoleon, and giving their lives for the King, and there`s the likes of you, who just seems to think that you can just turn your back on all of them and King George, makes me sick to the stomach. You know the penalty for desertion, death by firing squad, but I don`t see why I should waste a bullet on you. Men with Honour, die by the bullet. You have no Honour, so I`ve got something else lined up for you, come `ere.”
Throwing his coat off him, Sergeant Pascoe grabbed hold of Richard and quite easily began dragging him along the ground. Through all the dirt and the puddles as Richard was still too weak and weary to mount any form of resistance and in only a few minutes, Sergeant Pascoe, was kicking down the door, of an ordinary looking building.
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