Abandoned

I thought this was an excellent prompt, I love atmospheric beginnings.

Chateaux de Fleur

Marie trod carefully along the stony path through the forest.  The recent rain heightened the strong smell of the tall, dark pine trees.  She came to a clearing near the top of the hillside; the familiar shape of the old clock tower was just visible through the trees.  Still in tact, the clock face showed seven twenty five, the time the first bomb landed.

She remembered happier days looking after the horses in the stables, riding through the open countryside down by the river.  Picking flowers in the meadows, watching her children run and play.  The house and servant’s quarters took a direct hit; wooden roof timbers lay amongst the stone rubble of the drawing room, the front entrance completely demolished.  They’d been visited several times during the occupation, the outbuildings searched for prisoners on the run.

Five years since that dreadful night, the blazing inferno, acrid smoke and confusion.  Marie stood in the courtyard, the buildings decimated on all sides; plants had started to grow amongst the rubble.  A large open crater now filled most of the courtyard; mounds of earth and lumps of broken stone covered the remaining chateaux walls.  She kicked a large piece of timber shrapnel that was laid on top of a pile of rubble.  A large black rat dived out from underneath and ran to find another hiding place.

She’d found Sophie wandering amongst the debris, blood trickling down her face from a head wound, together they sheltered in the stables.  There was no sign of Anton.  Once the bombardment subsided she tried to go back in the house.  The flames crackled and leapt high in the air; the heat so intense, it was impossible.  Pierre had gathered together some of the old men from the village to help; it was all too late.  They found Marie nursing Sophie outside the stables.  It was three days before Anton was found buried under charred timbers and broken glass.

One last time she scoured the remains, moving stones and pieces of wood.  Tears rolled down her face as she saw something familiar protruding from under debris in the crater.  A dirty brown arm covered with damp and matted fur.  It was Claude; she tugged and pushed the rubble away.  Finally Claude was free.  Anton went to sleep every night cuddling his favourite teddy.