Metal Band One-Shots

Thieves of the Forest (Jandahl)

 Hannes listened silently to his parents as they drove through the forest road. To be honest, he wasn't really listening to them at all. He nodded every now and then to make it seem like he was listening to whatever it was his father was saying. However, when his father asked him a question, he had to repeat himself because Hannes hadn't actually been listening. So, despite trying not to be, his father was annoyed with him, anyway.

 Since he had been staring out the window the entire time, Hannes thought that the road they were on didn't seem very familiar at all.

 "Have we ever been this way before?" he asked.

 "What? Yes, I'm sure we must have," his father replied. "We've often traveled these roads."

 He said in a way that was supposed to be reassuring to Hannes somehow, but he wasn't reassured at all. He had no idea where they were, and something about these woods made him nervous.

 Hannes' fears were realized when the carriage suddenly came to an abrupt halt, and he heard someone out shout, "Don't move!"

 "What's going on out there?" Hannes' father called to the driver.

 "He's not going to answer," Hannes said softly.

 The carriage door was pulled open so suddenly that Hannes' mother screamed.

 "Well, I don't think there's anything to be screaming about, provided you do as I say."

 Hannes was surprised to be that under the long hair and the cap, the person who flung the carriage door open was a woman.

 "What is this?" Hannes' father demanded. "Who are you?"

 "Now, sir," the woman said, "I thought it would have been very clear who we are. You must have heard of us. The Robed Hoods, thieves of the forest roads. Haven't you at least heard of highwaymen?"

 "She means that we're being robbed," Hannes clarified, surprised by how calm he sounded.

 The woman looked over at him, and smiled. "Well, at least one of you listens to legends. Now, here is what will happen. There are nine others besides me, all armed. You will hand over any money, jewels, or anything else of value. If not, you die. It is clear enough, yes?"

 "Why?" Hannes asked.

 "Why what?"

 "Why do you live in the forest and steal from people?"

 The woman didn't look surprised to be asked the question. "I have been asked the same by many victims, young man. It is simply what we do. Now, hand it over!"

 Now frightened, Hannes' parents handed over the money and jewelry they had, all of which the woman placed in a small cloth bag.

 "But, young man, you have something of value you haven't given me," she said.

 On his hand, Hannes wore an old ring his grandfather had given before he died. He had kept it all those years, and always wore it.

 "It's a family heirloom," he said. "It means something to me."

 "And it does to me," the thief replied. "Give it to me."

 "No, you don't understand. My father has more money, and my mother has more jewels. What you have there isn't so great a loss. But this ring really does mean something to me, and I consider it my most valuable possession."

 The woman's face changed as she spoke, and she now seemed to look at him with almost sympathetic eyes.

 "Well, keep it, then," she said. "It looks almost worthless, anyway, though it clearly isn't to you. Tell me, young man, what's your name?"

 "It's Hannes. Hannes van der Dahl."

 She nodded. "Hannes van der Dahl. Well, you can tell everyone that you met Floor Jansen and lived to tell the tale."

 She began to close the carriage door, but stopped to say, "Oh, your driver is alive and well, by the way. We told him we would kill him if he didn't stay where he was."

 Hannes looked down at the old ring in his finger. He could imagine why others may have thought it was worthless, but it would remind him now of how lucky he was to have met Floor Jansen and lived without getting his possessions stolen.