We all make promises. Promises to friends, promises to family, promises to lovers, and most dangerous of all; promises to ourselves. But how often are these promises fulfilled? Situations, and most importantly, time shifts and changes much of what was. And more often that not, what IS becomes not what is attuned to our liking, and no longer can we keep those oaths, no long do sacred ties remain undefiled.


Long ago, when this young couple married for love, neither of them expected the hardships and difficulties that would come with the Goth fortune. Time was telling them, however, that to keep these vows would be more difficult than either of them had ever imagined….


Then there were those who, after having broken their vows, regretted making them in the first place, regretted restrictions, regretted the promises they had made to the loves of their life, regretted doing things they were so sure of once upon a time….




And then, there were the others. Those whose bitter and discontented lives forced them to make new vows, reckless vows. And these vows were those that they promised they would achieve no matter the cost. They were the oaths of revenge that they would meet on their own, no matter the cost, to those they blamed for their bereavement.

Watch as revenge is meted out, oaths are broken and new agreements forged in Sunset Valley.



Susan stared beyond the Bachelors’ backyard garden, the apples and small peaches, lusciously illuminated by the moonlight, Sunset’s buildings and turrets frozen and still as if bound by an enchantment, to the moon, framed by the hillocks beyond the Valley, glowing, almost liquidly; all-seeing. She shivered and looked away. The moon always drew her; drew her in ways she did not want to think about.

As a child, her mother had often told her stories of her home-land, Greece, and the tale of how she herself was descended, from an ancient line of Princes. Susan, as a young girl balancing on her mother’s knees on the porch of their country home would listen to story of her ancestress, the Goddess Selene, the goddess of the Full Moon, and her lover, The Greek king Endymion, from whose line they were supposedly descended. If Susan closed her eyes, she could still feel the familiar rhythm of her mother’s heart-beat and the quiet whispered stories in a voice which held a captivity of it’s own.

Her mother had once told her that the power of the moon still held sway over her family, and that bouts of weakness and strength followed them along with it’s waxing and waning. “Power is what we are heir to, my daughter,” she once whispered. ‘Power is what we possess, strange and mystical, and it exists in us, truly, it does. But only if we believe. Only if you believe, will you see true.”

Susan wanted to put these thoughts behind her. After all, the job she gave so much to on a daily basis and the theories and formulae that she knew as well as the back of her hand disproved any of these beliefs… And yet… Something about the moon seemed counseling today, almost advisory in nature. And a gut-feeling told her that something in this house, the Bachelors’ house, was greatly amiss…


Suddenly, she felt familiar warm arms around her, engulfing her, stemming the flow of her thoughts. She turned around to her husband, who kissed her without saying a word. “Come to bed, Susie. Whatever it is, let it be. There’s no use worrying about it, is there?”She sighed in reply, and gently, he guided her to their bed and sat beside her, carefully massaging her temples till she fell asleep.

Boyd had learnt long ago that when his wife woke up from bed in the middle of the night, things were not going well. He also knew that that was the time she needed her space the most. He rose from the bed and stretched, troubled. But it was all decided now; they were to stay here for a week, and nothing that happened would change his mind. “Let’s figure out if these ghost stories are for real,” he muttered to himself.


All said and done, the Bachelors seemed like good, honest people who truly believed that they had sent their newborn daughter away for their own good; they missed her and wanted her back. That much was apparent from the mute stares of yearning at the empty cradle. And he wanted to help them in whatever way he could do so. “No,” he said firmly to himself. “We’re here to stay. At least till we help figure this out.” He turned back to the bed and wrapping his arms around his sleeping wife, he went back to sleep.





Prudence was in a very foul mood. Things were not going right for her, not right indeed. Some of her stocks had taken a sudden lunge downwards and coupled with the fact that she had invested a small fortune in the particular enterprise, she was bound to be unhappy. And then, to make matters worse, the spy she had set on Victor Goth had mysteriously gone missing, along with all her accumulated documents on the Goths. She had tried contacting and locating him with all the power and influence she commanded, but to no avail: either no one had any information as to his whereabouts, or they weren’t spilling any details, even to her.

Now, as she stood rummaging among her deceased husband’s collection of books, searching for some legal documents, she wondered if her day could get any worse. At that very moment, her phone rang, the noise reverberating off the corners of the quiet library, making her jump.


“Who is this? And make it quick. I’ve got work to do,” she said snappishly. “Hello, Prudence. How are you handling your recent stock crash? Finances down? Poor you.” “Who are you and what do you want? Don’t waste my time.” “Oh, I’m sure you recognize the voice, give it a second’s thought,” said the voice from the phone succinctly.

“I don’t-. Wait. YOU. What on earth do you want from me? And how the hell did you get my number?” The voice on the phone chuckled quietly. “Come on, Prudence, everyone knows little old you by now. Haven’t you been sucking up to the rich and famous all around town enough? Poor widow, all alone in the world, struggling to raise two children on her own…But we both know there’s much, much more to you than that, isn’t there, you sneaky vixen?” “How dare you speak to me like this! You don’t even know me that well! And what do you hope to achieve, taunting me? If that’s all you called for, this ends now!”

“Fine, then, don’t play along. I called because I was wondering how you were managing without that smelly hound of yours that you set on Victor Goth. How ever will you stalk him now?” Prudence’s blood ran cold. No longer did she have any evidence as to Goth’s underground connections and activities, and if anyone came to know that she had set a tail on the highest ranking official in Sunset, she’d be in a lot of trouble herself…. “What do you want?,” she asked, wearily. She knew that she was beaten this time.


“Oh, no, Prudence, don’t give in that easily. I’m not trying to blackmail you, no, no, no, on the contrary, I wanted to see if we could work together. I would’ve been all nice if you weren’t such a willful, annoying bitch, yourself.” Prudence’s nails dug into her palms as her breathing increased in anger. No one could talk to her like that and get away with it. “There now that you’ve been knocked down a few, I wanted to ask you for a little bit of help myself.”


After the voice told her what was needed of her, Prudence took a long breath and exhaled, then smiled. Adding a little fuel to the fire, being the middle woman, the perfect catalyst, was something she excelled at. However, reigning in her emotions, she said, “And what can I expect from you in return?” The voice laughed. “You can expect me not to show proof of your doings, Crumplebottom. Don’t expect any more. And I want this done within a week. That’s all.” The phone went dead.

Prudence flung her phone away as hard as she could in disgust. She couldn’t stand being told what to do, and yet she had to, for now. There was no way out. As she stomped out of the library, however, muttering and cursing under her breath, she was too absorbed in herself to notice tiny Agnes slipping away, after hearing everything that had taken place.






Nancy walked into the living room to find her mother sitting before the T.V, all geared up for work. Thinking about it, she only remembered her mother in one of two states at home: Either preparing to jet off to work or sleeping. “Mom, where’s Dad today?,” she asked her, noticing her father’s absence for the first time. “He’s gone on a business trip to Twinbrook, I think. I wouldn’t really know why he would bother. Everything at our branch there is running just fine. I don’t see why he has to visit so often these days.”

Nancy went and sat next to her mother, wanting to watch the T.V. Without looking at her, Queenie absentmindedly said, “You don’t have any plans for today, do you? Because I’m expecting a courier at around 2, and someone needs to be at home to receive it.” “Erm, yeah mom I actually do have plans, can’t you get the maid to do it?” “She’s on vacation, and besides, it’s a sum of money that I’d prefer in your hands. Where are you going?” Her eyes narrowed as she spared a severe glance at her daughter. “Not anywhere with that Alto boy I hope? Because if you are, I expect you staying home today.”

Nancy’s temper flared up at her mother’s derogatory tone. Today was the day that Nick had decided that he would formally introduce Nancy to his folks and they were all to go out to a restaurant together. “Yes, Mom, yes I am going out with him today. And I’d think you’d be a little more respectful of my feelings for him.” “Queenie turned to glare at her daughter. “No, I wouldn’t, Nancy, and you know it. How could you even think of being seen around town with a boy of such little social standing? Forget that: Have you even considered the fact that he’s the son to our bitterest rivals?”


Both had stood up now to face each other in their temper. “Mom, you were a young girl in love once. Or, at least, I think you were, ‘cos that’s what you told me. Don’t you at least remember what it felt like? Did it matter to you, who he was from, what he did, who his parents were? Because it sure as hell doesn’t matter to me!” “Queenie jerked her head backwards as if she had been slapped. “Why are you talking as if I’m still not in love?,” she whispered to this angry young girl who no longer seemed like her own little girl.

“Oh, I don’t know, probably because you don’t have any time for Dad or me anymore? Probably because it’s all work and more work for you? Probably because you don’t care about what’s important to either of us and what we need?” At that the dark heat of her anger slowly crept up within her again. “Enough. You will not leave this house today, young lady and I mean it. I’m staying home today and you can go to your room. I don’t want to see you out here till dinner. Am I clear?” “Fine then!,” Nancy yelled as she tromped up the stairs.

She knew what she had to do. She always had a spare key with her anyway. There was the tree just outside her bedroom door that was easy enough to climb; she knew each and every gnarl and twist of it as a little girl who had climbed it almost every day in her childhood. Nothing would stop her doing what she wanted to, not even her family. ‘After all,’ she thought, smiling grimly to herself, ‘I am my mother’s daughter.’


Downstairs, the mother to this most rebellious daughter of her’s kneeled slowly where she stood, wrapped her arms around herself, and began mourning. She mourned because of the grain of truth in her daughter’s words, she mourned for her lost love, for her failed parenting, for how it all went wrong, so quickly, so easily, when it had all started out so perfectly.







Eithelia Kennedy lay spread-eagled over her bed, eyes open wide and glassy, staring into space; the epitome of loss and despair. Life had taken everything she had away from her, and her one wish: To do the best she could for Sunset Valley had all gone wrong.

After the arrest of her husband, Eithelia tried to maintain her optimism. She thought that the maximum they could hold him was for a week….. And then two weeks… And then three…And slowly, one month was up… And then the secons, and then the third…. By this point, she was slowly losing hope. She couldn’t understand how the bloody spade found it’s way to their shed, or who would have planted it there. Many sleepless nights were spent in consideration and thought. Who would hate their family so much, who would detest the new military leaders of Sunset Valley so strongly that they could plant false evidence in their backyard, thereby making them the prime suspects in a murder case?

There was only one person who would: Queenie Landgraab. But then again, Eithelia thought to herself, what purpose would it serve her? And how would she acquire planted evidence to the murder? Things just didn’t add up, unless they had a hidden enemy somewhere out there who wanted them destroyed…..


Many nights, she stayed awake. Some, she howled. Other nights, she cried because she missed her husband, her companion, more than anything else in the world. Most nights, she could not sleep; for fear that there was someone out there who held the power to murder an innocent old man, who wanted to direct the blame elsewhere and who could be a potential enemy.

She met Earnest once a week, with the ever-present grille separating them from each other. They could talk for only a limited time, and were always watched over by a policeman. Their case was held up in court, the evidence inconclusive but too direct so as to let him be released. She watched as the dark circles grew under Earnest’s eyes and his wrists became thinner, his expression more hollow. She watched, knowing full well that she was in a position to do nothing.


She managed to keep herself sane for her daughter, and for the hope that someday, Eustace would be released to them both. They had enough money to survive for awhile; he was smart enough to have kept a large emergency fund aside just in case of situations like the present, where no money came in. She avoided leaving her home; where once their family was greeted with polite curiosity and interest, they were now hated as murderers.

Even if Earnest walked out of jail, Eithelia knew that there was nothing left for them in Sunset Valley. They had to leave this place where they hoped they could create and bring about a brighter and more stable future, the city of their dreams.

Suddenly, she heard a quiet scraping sound, dragging her away from her own misery. She waited for a minute and then rolled over, thinking it was a figment of her own desolate imagination. ‘Maybe I really am going mad,’ she thought to herself. But before she could speak any further, she heard it again, this time, louder. She got up and walked out of the bedroom door, which was always left wide open in case the baby cried in the middle of the night.

The sound was coming from the front door. Fear gripped her heart. Who could it be, this late at night? And what would they want? Slowly, she gripped the steel bar she always kept hidden in the closet under the stairs for protection and opened the door.


“Earnest!,” she screamed with a mixture of joy, relief and pleasure, as she threw herself upon her husband. She burst into tears as she held him, feeling the contours of his almost forgotten shape and body after more than seven months of separation. Slowly, almost unrecognizably, he wrapped his arms around his wife.


She pulled back from him and looked into his familiar hazel eyes, the same shade of her daughter’s liquid ones. She knew then that before her stood a changed man from the one she married; there was a distance in them, a coldness that seemed rooted and long-lasting. He would bear the scars of prison for the rest of his life, and she felt a deep hatred for those who had broken her husband and in the way that they had.

“How did you get here? How did they let you go? Oh Earnest…” She put her head to his chest to feel for sure that he was in front of her, safe and sound. Slowly, he guided them both into their home and to the living room. “I don’t exactly understand what happened myself,” he muttered with his deep, gravelly voice. “They just opened my cell-door an hour ago, asked me to sign some papers, and then told me I was free to go.” “Thank goodness. Thank God it’s over and you’re back home safe and sound to us… But how would they just let you go?” “The evidence wasn’t enough to convict me; the fingerprints on the spade weren’t your’s or mine.”

“So no one knows who the killer is? Even now?” “No. But what matters is that whoever did it hasn’t done it again and they let me go, and I’m free of all charges.” “But what does this mean for us?,” she asked him urgently. “It means that officially, we’re no longer suspects. But since no one else was caught, in the eyes of Sunset Valley, we remain criminals. And we will never be accepted here again.”


“We have to leave, Eustace.” “I know. I know. But not yet. Not for some time more.” “What? What are you talking about? What’s gotten into you? I was just going to wake Erin. We should leave now, while it’s still dark.” “No, Eithelia,” he replied firmly. “We need to stay a little while longer. We still have work to do here. “What are you talking about? Both of us are unemployed now; you know I quit ages ago….” “I don’t mean that kind of work. I couldn’t tell you this because I was afraid we’d be overheard, but love, I wasn’t just left rotting in prison for no reason…”

“I don’t know how that thing entered our shed. But I do know who made sure that I was left for as long as possible, with my case delayed. I heard two guards pass my cell late at night and both were dead-drunk. They were talking about me. You know I’m the first and only prisoner in jail; they’d have nothing and no one else to talk about. The first one said that I’d probably be released any day now and that it would be back to donuts and T.V for them. The second one laughed and said, “Not while Queenie Landgraab has a say in it. She’s the reason he’s still here; he was supposed to leave months ago.”

Eithelia chocked back a gasp of outrage. This is what people of power could do; the smallest of their enemies could be swatted aside like flies with just the right exchange of coin and honeyed words. The Kennedies had been destroyed simply because they were a threat to her control and popularity. And she had brought them crashing down for it.


“Now do you know why we’re staying, Eithelia? Not because I want to. But because this is a blood debt that has to be paid. She’s torn apart our hopes and our life here. And it’s barely made any difference to her. We’re not staying here anymore because we want to; we’re staying here because of just one thing. And we aren’t leaving till we get it. We need revenge.”



Yaay! 2,100 views I am really thrilled. Thank you so much, all of you for reading this and sticking by me! As usual, rate the story and comment

Darkwytche: Thanks so much for the read and I'm glad you liked it! And yes, they are ALL connected in some small way or the other. That's the entire point of it I'm glad you noticed!