My father is a headsman

In a small village, life bustled with the energy of both people and animals. The autumn weather had brought in clouds that obscured the sun, and a recent rain had left the village streets muddy and treacherous.

Despite the dreary weather, the villagers carried on with their daily activities, each wrapped in their own world of chores and errands.

Amidst the activity, Alfred made his way through the village.As he strolled along, his attention  was unexpectedly captivated by a beautiful woman who was standing with his boyfriend.

He watched, almost mesmerized, as she savored a chocolate bonbon offered to her by his lover. For Alfred, a simple pleasure like chocolate was a rare delicacy, reserved for special occasions or the privileged few. He remembered tasting it only once, a gift from his father when he was just a child. Though he could barely recall his father's face, the taste of that chocolate lingered in his memory, a treasure from a long-forgotten past.

Meanwhile, a man leaned out of his window, smoking his pipe lazily. He seemed to be enjoying the village scene, observing the goings-on with a sense of amusement.

However, his tranquility was abruptly disrupted when he noticed a wooden log swinging toward him. With quick reflexes, he ducked back inside, narrowly avoiding the potential disaster.  "What are you doing, kid?" the man shouted, slightly irritated.

Alfred turned to face the man, a ten-meter log resting on his shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the danger it had posed. "Oopsie," he apologized, unintentionally turning the log in the other direction, narrowly missing a horse that was grazing nearby.

The horse, perturbed by the sudden close call, let out an angry huff and stepped back cautiously, eying Alfred with a hint of wariness.

Undeterred, Alfred approached the horse, seemingly unfazed by the creature's apprehension.  "Nice little horsey, why are you so angry? Wait, I have something for you from my breakfast," Alfred cooed, pulling out a half-rotten, bug-bitten carrot from his pocket.

The carrot had seen better days, its color a sickly shade of yellow that did little to entice.

The horse took a step back, seemingly uninterested in the unappetizing offering. Alfred, however, remained oblivious to the horse's reluctance, holding the carrot out as if it were the most delectable treat in the world.

"It's your favorite," he insisted, his genuine smile unshaken.

The horse shook its head, conveying a clear "No" with its body language, but the poor animal was cornered by Alfred.

With the carrot slowly inching closer, casting an ever-growing shadow over its terrified face.  "Don't be shy, horsey," Alfred urged, his good intentions overshadowing any understanding of the horse's fear.

As the carrot drew nearer, the horse's panicked whinny reverberated through the village.

****

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the village, Alfred dropped the log in front of a quaint little house. Just as he did, the door creaked open, and a small, elderly man emerged from within.

Alfred's face lit up with a bright smile as he greeted the old man.  "Old man Doug, I brought the beam for the shed, as we agreed on," Alfred announced proudly. 

The old man's eyes sparkled with appreciation as he inspected the product. "Very nice, Alfred, very nice. But I must confess, I find myself short of money to pay you as I promised," he admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

Alfred's smile wavered for a moment, and his stomach growled softly, but he quickly recovered his cheerful demeanor. "Don't worry about it, you can pay me next time," he replied generously. 

"You're a good kid, Alfred. I have a proposition for you," old man Doug said, a twinkle in his eye. "Instead of money, how about I give you a goat for the beam? What do you say?"

Alfred's eyes widened with surprise. "But a goat is worth more than the wood," he protested.

"Ah, don't fret about it. You've earned it," the old man reassured him.  Alfred considered the offer for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"Alright then, I'll take the goat," he said, a mix of excitement and curiosity evident in his voice. 

"Here, she is Nelly," old man Doug stepped back and, with a flourish, brought out a goat from behind him.

The goat was quite old and frail, barely able to stand on her legs. She gazed at Alfred with weary eyes and let out a low and feeble "Meh." 

"Okay, Nelly, let's go," Alfred said, attempting to lead the goat away. However, Nelly seemed uninterested in moving and remained rooted to the spot.

Old man Doug chuckled softly. "Well, good luck with that. Get home before it gets dark," he advised as he began to back away. "I have to go now; my wife is, uh, having a..."

Before he could finish his sentence, he hurriedly retreated into his house, leaving Alfred to deal with the reluctant Nelly.

Undeterred, Alfred took a step closer to the goat and tried to gently encourage her to move, but she was startled by this, so she fell over and lay still, seemingly frozen in place.

With a determined grin, Alfred reached down, picked up the old goat, and hoisted her onto his back. 

**** 

The village bustled with life as Alfred made his way through the narrow streets. Children played in the muddy alleys, their laughter mingling with the distant cries of animals and the clatter of chores being carried out.

The warm hues of the setting sun painted the houses and cobbled pathways, creating a picturesque scene that exuded a sense of coziness and community. 

Amidst the cheerful sounds of play, a faint sound of crying reached Alfred's ears. He turned his head, trying to locate the source of the distress, and soon his eyes fell upon a distressing sight

Three gawky teenagers were bullying a young, little boy, taunting him and throwing vegetables at him.  "Who hits his head first wins," the middle kid declared, the others nodding in agreement as they continued their cruel game.

Alfred put down the goat, "Nelly, be a good girl and stay here," The goat in response just looked at him, "Yeah you probably could do that." 

As Alfred walked towards the kids, the goat strolled away.  "Stop it. I don't want to play this game anymore," the little boy pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Shut up, just stay still," the middle teenager snapped, readying for another throw. He hurled a tomato with force, aiming it directly at the crying boy's face.

But just before the tomato could hit its target, it came to an abrupt stop in midair. Alfred's hand had intercepted it, catching it firmly. With a swift and purposeful motion, he took a big bite out of the tomato, its ripe juices running down his lips.

The unexpected intervention left the teenagers dumbfounded, momentarily frozen in surprise. 

"You shouldn't waste food, don't you know?" Alfred stated firmly.

The leader of the trio sneered at Alfred, "Look guys, the fatherless bastard is hungry," he taunted, a malicious glint in his eyes.

Unperturbed, Alfred replied, "I have a father."

The leader, feigning remorse, offered a half-hearted apology, mocking Alfred's family situation. "You're right, sorry. He just left your mother as soon as you popped out."

Alfred's jaw tightened at the hurtful words, but he refused to be defeated. "Because he had to go. My father is a headsman," he declared with a hint of pride.

The other kids looked at him in confusion, their laughter subsiding. "What is that?" one of them  asked.

"The headsman hunts vampires to keep the world safe," Alfred explained, standing tall as he defended his father's honor.

The kids exchanged skeptical glances. The leader scoffed, "That's just your mother's lie. My father told me that there are no such things as vampires, just stories for kids."

"Nah-ah" Alfred tried to convince them.

Their disbelief turned to laughter. "You know what we do with weirdos? Barrage attack!" the leader declared with a sinister grin.

The barrage began, and vegetables flew towards Alfred, who stood firm, determined to protect the smaller boy. "Starveling defense," he muttered, using his unique ability to pluck the vegetables out of the air and consume them before they could cause any harm.

The laughter of the kids faded away as their barrage attack proved fruitless against Alfred's unique defense.

They grew frustrated and eventually stopped, realizing that their attempts to humiliate him had failed.

Alfred looked at them defiantly, his cheeks still full from the vegetables he had caught in midair. With a gulp, he swallowed them down.

"What do we do now?" one of the kids asked the leader, who was clearly flustered by the unexpected turn of events.

"Its boring. Let the weirdo go back to his useless mother,," said the leader, trying to save face, decided to brush off the encounter and walked away with his group, leaving Alfred standing there, his face a mix of anger and hurt.

"Hey, wait for me," stood up the bullied kid "I don't wana stay with the weirdo." he ran after the other kids.

Alred heart sank as he watched the bullied kid, whom he had tried to protect, run after the other kids.

He looked down at the broken and rotten vegetables scattered around him.  "This will make a good soup," he muttered to himself while picking them up.

With his hands full of vegetables, Alfred turned and walked back towards the spot where he had left Nelly, the goat.  "Lets go home-" he noticed the goat missing, spun around but couldn't see her. "Where'd you go?"

He noticed, on the ground, muddy tracks that led away from the village.