By Tamara Holloway
It was just now dusk outside. The golden-brown sun was quickly setting along the horizon. Rakon slowly surveyed his surroundings to make sure that he was all alone. It was at dusk when the other Goths would come out to search for potential victims for the up-coming winter months.
Rakon lived in the forest Samara, in the country of Famor. He had been raised in this forest all his life. Samara was a dense, dark forest with trees taller than most buildings. The sky was not visible in the thicker part of the forest. A heavy stillness clung to the leaves of the trees. It seemed there was always a translucent fog hovering above the cold, damp hearth. The Gothics were a tribe of people that preyed on each other for food. The stronger Goths would always eat the younger, weaker Goths in order to survive during the long, winter months.
The Gothics had originated from a small town in England, but were forced to move as the country became modernized. They were given a small piece of unsettled land, and formed their own country, Famor. Soon the country became overrun with uncivilized citizens from England that had been alienated for various reasons. The Gothics were forced to inhabit a forest, which they then named Samara after their deceased god.
Rakon was among the smaller Goths. He had never been very strong growing up, and it had seemed not to have changed as he had gotten older. His parents died when he was only thirteen, so he was forced to raise himself. The Goths were not a very open people, but, in fact, the exact opposite. They lived in seclusion from the rest of the world. Rakon had two...