Lucia's Story 1808:- La Angel Vengadora

[Stormtrooper1990]

In the second story set during the Napoleonic War, our next destination is the Peninsula War a time of French oppression upon the Spanish people. Here Lucia Diaz, once an innocent seamstress in Madrid now a hardened guerilla prepares for a perilous mission. A victim of the French atrocities of May 1808, Lucia watched as her husband was brutally murdered, herself wounded by a cruel French Officer, Lieutenant Henrí Boussard and his men. Since then, she pledged vengeance upon her husband's murderer but as never come close to realising that, until now. Given an important mission, one that decide the future of Spain, Lucia learns that her vengeance may soon be at hand. She will learn just how far she's prepared to go to find justice for her husband and the ghosts of Madrid, and the true cost of her revenge. This is her story...



Madrid, the night of the 3rd May 1808



Lucia Diaz held onto her husband Rodrigo's hand, not letting go as they were lined up against the wall by a squad of French soldiers their blue tunics appearing black in the night, their tall black hats casting them a sinister air. Lucia could hear the sound of musket shots silencing the screams of men and women, in groups like theirs, the crackling of flames nearby as the Grand Armée burned everything around them. Then another sound that made her blood ran cold, it was laughter. In front of them stood a young blonde french officer, dressed in the uniform of a lieutenant he would have been handsome had the red from the flames not cast him in a hellish light. In fact it may have been a trick of the light from the fire, but Lucia could have sworn she saw the devil in his eyes, and in the eyes of his men. His bicorn hat, perched on his head made him look even more diabolical. "Why are you doing this, lieutenant? What gives you the right to commit murder, on those who's only wish is to be free?" Rodrigo said his back straight, staring him in the eye. Lucia couldn't have been more proud of her beloved. The French Lieutenant, who had introduced himself as Broussard as he rounded them up, before torching their homes. "I have every right, senor. You ungrateful Spaniards have worked treason against your rightful emperor Napoleon. He who his your ruler by right of conquest." Rodrigo remained straight, his voice even showing no fear even though those around him sobbed in fear. " He is not our rightful ruler, frenchman. The sovereigns of Spain are the ones we bear allegiance to, those appointed by God himself." The officer and his men chuckled in reply. "You superstitious fool, there is only Napoleon. Leaders are not appointed by divinity but through strength and the will to do what is required of them. Here let me show you." Broussard ordered his men to raise their arms at the huddled group, their cries and sobs becoming more louder. Lucia felt tears of fear stream down her face, as she gripped Rodrigo's hand tighter. " God won't forgive you, lieutenant. One day you will be brought before Him for judgement and be cast into hell for your sins." Despite everything going on around her, Lucia felt pride and eternal love for her husband. Through him she felt closer to God, Rodrigo's courage was itself divine. Broussard cocked his head drawing his pistol, pointing it at Rodrigo's chest. " Senõr, there is no God. trier!" Suddenly, Rodrigo threw himself in front of her embracing her as the French fired. " Don't be afraid my love, you must live." Were his final words as the French bullets tore into the group, Lucia herself was hit by a shot that grazed her shoulder. She collapsed letting out a scream as her husband lay on top of her. In a second ten innocents, their friends and neighbours God fearing Christians all, were brutally cut down by Broussard their blood pooling around them. On the ground a young woman was cradling her stomach, she looked up as Broussard pointed his pistol at her. "No.. please." The girl pleaded before another loud bang ended her life. Lucia herself remained silent, playing dead under her dead husband as Broussard holstered his pistol. "Where is your god now, Spaniards?" He asked the dead before turning away, ordered his men to fall in. Lucia fixed him with a cold stare and whispered an oath. " Dios, I swear in your name and in the name of my departed husband. I will deliver this sinner to your judgement so you may cast him into the fires of hell. I will have my revenge."


Spanish Guerrilla Camp near Balien, Southern Spain two months later 17:30 15th July 1808



Lucia Diaz knelt in her tent, by her small shrine of the Blessed Virgin and her son the Saviour praying fervently her rosary clutched in her hands. She had suffered another flashback of that terrible night of violence that changed her life, that made her into an instrument of God's judgment against the wicked French. Lucia had been suffering from nightmares of that terrible night, when her beloved Rodrigo had been taken from her by that bastard Broussard and hoped her prayers would silence them, but so far God hadn't heard her pleas nor had He gave her a chance to avenge her husband. But that didn't concern Lucia, for she felt closer to God killing Frenchmen as a guerilla. An expert in the art of disguise, Lucia frequently stole the clothing from other women, knocking them unconscious before fooling the french with a sweet smile, and a bit of skin. They never saw her coming, right up to the point her stiletto found their throats. She caught her reflection in the triptych. Lucia was a hauntingly beautiful woman of 25, her high cheekbones, heart shaped Mediterranean features and almond shaped big brown eyes had set the hearts of many a man, and even other women a flutter. But Lucia, still a widow in mourning had refused to take another lover. She couldn't not after the death of her soulmate Rodrigo. Lucia's jet black curls, fell upon her shoulders as she sobbed quietly thinking about him. Wondering when she would be reunited with him in heaven, she missed him terribly but knew that he would be proud of her despite a part of her soul dying with him on that fateful night. "Disculpe senõra Diaz." A young female voice from behind her disturbed her prayers. "Pardon me for disturbing your prayers, but they await you in the briefing tent." Lucia turned to the young girl. " There is no need to apologise, girl. Thank you, I will be out in a moment." The girl nodded smiling as she withdrew from the tent. Lucia turned back to the shrine. " Dios, give me the strength to make it through this day so I might be reunited with my love in your Kingdom, to hold him again. I remain your divine instrument of justice. Amen." Putting her rosary into her cloak, she rose and swept from her tent.



As she entered the map tent, Lucia found it occupied by three men one she recognised as her cell leader José Guiterrez, a former catholic priest and grizzled man of 45 who unlike Lucia had lost his faith but Lucia had tremendous respect for the man, who had taught her everything she knew about shadow warfare. The second was an officer of the Spanish Army of Andalusia, in a white and red uniform jacket with gold filligree epaulettes and cuffs, marked him as a General. The third was a British officer unmistakable in his red coat, a bicorn hat sat on his head he shot Lucia a curious look. "Welcome, Lucia." Said José as they embraced like family. "José, my dear friend. Who are these people?" She scanned the tent her eyes fixing on the strangers. It was the general who spoke first. "Senõra Lucia Diaz. My name is General Francisco Javier Castaños, General of the Spanish Army of Andalusia. And this is Captain Reginald Wyndham-Smith, my British liaison." The general gestured to the dark haired, blue eyed English man who nodded. " Lieutenant José as told me of your skills in the art of disguise and infiltration. Would you like to give a little demonstration, senõra?" Lucia smiled at the assembled men. "It would my pleasure, señors. How can I be of service?" The general smiled as he beckoned Lucia towards the map. "Here is Balién, our forces and that of the french are going to face each other in battle tomorrow morning." He tapped the town with his finger, then traced north. "However on the crossroads north, is a French fort that serves as a powder magazine for the French forces in the region. Leaving it standing will expose our northern flank and give the french troops a steady supply of powder, that could turn the tide of battle in their favour. A battle that could be important in the liberation of our nation." The British officer nodded. "Indeed, your task is to infiltrate the fort and blow it up from the inside out. Personally, I have reservations that a lone woman can achieve what a regiment of men can. But I look forward to hearing of your success señora. Since José as vouched for you." He said clicking his heels with respect. Lucia smiled at the handsome officer. "And I look forward to proving you wrong. Gentlemen..." She said before sweeping from the tent, José on her heels.


"Lucia, wait a moment." José caught up to her, stopping her with a single hand. "There is one other matter but I thought it best to tell you in private, as it concerns you." Lucia turned smiling but her face frowned when she saw the grave look he gave her. "José? Why the ominous look? What aren't you telling me?" José led her to a small to a small fire, where a chicken was being spit roasted. "Lucia, he's here. The man Yves Broussard, is commanding that fort." Lucia's heart skipped a beat " Him! That hilo de puta! That monster who butchered my husband! God as finally answered my prayers, my vengeance is at hand." Shaking his head at her determination, José replied. "Lucia, don't go risking the mission for your revenge. I would like to see you back here to celebrate your victory." Lucia shot up angrily. "No! How can you say that?! He murdered my husband, our neighbours in cold blood. The right of vengeance is mine. I swear, José I will kill him and destroy that fort. We can celebrate my victory together with a jug of sangria." She said clapping him on the shoulder. José sighed then smiled. "I should have known better than talk you out of anything. Just good luck, child. I will hold you to your word." Lucia nodded as she walked away from him. "Another thing, Lucia. Our scouts report that nuns from the local convent, are on their way to minister the soldiers in the fort." Lucia stopped, turning to face him. "Then they are my means in. A nuns robes can hide many secrets." She smiled caressing the hilt of her dagger. Josés' eyes opened wide. "You would assault a nun for her clothes? You a woman of faith?" Lucia smiled "God will forgive me, as this is an eye for an eye." With that she swept away with a flash of her cloak.


1km away from Fort Balién, the roadside


Lucia crouched low behind a pile of rocks, as she observed a party of nuns walk down the road. While it pained Lucia to commit a sin, assaulting a chaste woman of the cloth for her garments, she knew that God will forgive her for it was for a righteous act. The nun's discomfort a necessary evil for a greater good. The nun's where all dressed the same, wearing black robes, tied with rope belts their rosaries dangling from their belts. White wimples covered their heads, and sensible leather sandals on their feet. The group headed by a mother superior, stopped in the middle of the road. "Sisters, let us rest and relieve our burdens before we continue our journey to the fort. We have five minutes." As the group dispersed, Lucia noticed a young sister move away quite far from the group moving quickly as she looked for a bush to squat in. Lucia drew her stiletto, as she crept up behind the unsuspecting sister. "Thank you, God for putting one of your servants in my path, so I may serve as your instrument." She whispered praying to God.


Sister Maria sighed with blessed relief as she found a bush to relieve her full bladder, pulling up her habit and petticoat she began to empty her bladder. At 21, Maria had only just got out of her novitiate at the Convent of the Holy Cross. She didn't approve of ministering to the foreign army occupying her homeland, but Mother Superior said God doesn't take sides in war and it's their duty as holy sisters to minister to all, invaders or otherwise. That had silenced the doubters but not young Maria, who was having a crisis of faith. She was a beautiful girl, with lightly tanned skin, slender cheekbones and rounded features with doe shaped hazel eyes. Her short light brown hair, cut into a bob hidden by her wimple. As she emptied the last of her water, Maria felt a hand clamp around her mouth then a sharp pain as she was hit with a blow to the back of her head. Sister Maria let out a muffled cry of surprise, as she collapsed onto her side unconscious. Her habit and petticoat riding up, exposing her modesty.


"Sorry sister, please forgive me. But I have a great need, I'am sure you would understand. I know God will forgive me." Lucia said as she made the sign of the cross, before sheathing her stiletto. Kneeling by the stricken nun, Lucia stripped completely naked then rolled the unconscious nun on her back. Averting her eyes from the girl's small womanhood, topped by a thin trimmed strip of light brown hair, Lucia removed the nuns sandals and wimple. Then she loosed the woman's habit opening it, exposing her small young breasts with puffy pink areolas her petticoat riding up. After slipping off the habit from the nuns slim petite body, Lucia whipped the petticoat down the unconscious girls legs averting her gaze. She quickly got dressed in the nuns habit, retrieving her rosary pocketing it in her stolen clothes. Concealing her dagger in her stolen habit, Lucia tore her shirt into strips binding the naked nuns wrists, ankles and gagging her before dragging her into the bushes out of sight. Straightening her disguise, she walked down the road blending into the group. "Ready ladies?" Then let us depart and do the lord's work this day." Lucia couldn't help but smile at the Mother's words. I couldn't have put it better myself She thought as the group continued down the road, leaving the unconscious naked Sister Maria behind.



Outside Fort Balién 17:45pm


Using her disguise, Lucia blended in at the back of the group as the mother superior approached the two french soldiers posted to the main doors. "My sister's and I have come to minister to your men, young man. Please inform your superior of our arrival." The left hand soldier shook his head. "I'am sorry, Mother but the Captain as forbidden anyone from the outside entrance." The soldier on the right nodded. "We are on high alert following guerilla activity in the area, only maids from the fort and camp followers are allowed entry." The Mother Superior blinked haughtily. "I assure you, young man that none of my sisters are guerillas." Lucia chuckled at the irony of that remark. The left hand soldier gripped his musket. "Regardless, you cannot enter Mother. Now please leave or we will be forced to make you leave." Outraged the Mother Superior turned on her heel, wheeling the group back up the road. In need of a new plan, Lucia waited until she was out of sight of the sentries on the door then peeled off the rear of the group into the treeline.



Lucia found herself overlooking a small stream to the right of the fort, where maids were cleaning french uniforms. Remembering what the soldier said, Lucia knew she would need the clothing of a maid to enter the fort. There were three candidates whose outfits would be a sure fit, but Lucia looked at the closest girl to her, it wouldn't take much to lure the girl back here and take her outfit. Lucia appraised the young maid, a pretty youth possibly 18 or 19 years old her pale skin was definitely not local which would make her French. Not only a long way from home but a symbol of her nations oppression. A slip of a girl with shallow cheekbones, angular features and bright blue eyes. A hint of honey blonde hair peaking from under her white bandana. She was wearing a brown low cut dress, with a white lace collar and white apron tied around the waist. The girl had finished her washing packing it into a small basket nestled into the crook of her arm, and begun her long walk back up the winding path which was close to the treeline, separating her from the group. Thanking god for this opportunity, Lucia walked onto the path approaching the young maid.



Anaïs Molineux rested her basket in the crook of her arm, beginning the long trek back up to the fort. At 19 Anaïs was a camp maid who was more or less was born into this life. Her mother a camp whore, her father a French officer who didn't want anything to do with her who left at the first opportunity leaving with her hard drinking mother. Originally from the south of France, Anaïs felt like a stranger in a strange land she had no business being in but she went where the army did and she never questioned it. Her only wish was there was a priest on hand, or a nun at least to minister her faith or hear her confession, particularly that she had been having wicked desires about other women. However, the Captain in charge of the fort had a reputation for being an uncouth heathen who spent more time servicing prostitutes then commanding his garrison. Still as a lowly maid, it wasn't Anaïs' place to question. As she walked up the path, Anaïs noticed a pretty Spanish nun walking towards her. "Hello, child. It is a beautiful evening is it not? Another of Gods gifts. "Anaïs' heart fluttered at the slight of the beautiful woman, the sound of her accent enchanting. "Hello, sister. Yes it's a wonderful evening, made better by your presence. But I haven't been close to God in a while." She said blushing, knowing she was committing a sin with her scandalous remark. The nun walked up close to Anaïs, touching her arm sending a warm feeling through the young maid her bosom heaved. "I'am sorry to hear that, child. Perhaps a blessing from our Lord would serve as a balm for your soul." Anaïs grinned, perhaps a little too eagerly she wanted more than just a blessing from this sister. "I would like that, sister. But could we do it in private?" The nun's big brown eyes regarded her as she cocked her head. "Of course, child. I feel closer to God in nature." She replied beckoning Anaïs into the treeline. As Anaïs walked past the nun smiling she was unprepared for the the sudden attack. She felt the nuns hand clamp around her mouth, muffling her cry of surprise dragging her into the treeline. The last thing she felt was a sharp blow to the back of her head, she let a small muffled cry of pain as she slumped into the nuns arms unconscious. "Stupid, naive little french bitch. You're lucky I didn't kill you." Lucia said as she laid the girl on the ground, sheathing her stiletto



As Lucia stood over the unconscious young maid, she stripped off her nuns habit looking down on her. She wanted to kill the girl to stab her in the throat and strip her but she was an innocent, only guilty of ignorance which wasn't much of an excuse. Killing her would make her no better than Broussard. Still she was here to serve a purpose and that purpose was to get her into the fort. Kneeling naked by the young french maid, Lucia got to work undressing her removing her bandana, shoes and apron. Her medium honey blonde hair spilling onto her shoulders. Rolling the sleeping girl onto her side, Lucia unlaced the maids dress slipping the garment from her shoulders peeling the dress down her slim petite frame. Turning her onto her back, Lucia unlaced the chemise opening it out exposing the young maids youthful small breasts, with pink puffy circular areolas. Pulling off the chemise, Lucia whipped off the girls petticoat revealing a small pink womanhood crowned with a small tuft of blonde hair. Lucia stood over the naked blonde maid quickly getting dressed in her outfit. After tying on the girl's bandana and concealing her stiletto, along with her rosary in the folds of the apron, Lucia tore the nuns habit into strips binding the girl and gagging her. With the naked blonde bound, Lucia dragged her into the bushes before resting the basket on her arm. She walked back onto the path, leaving the naked maid to the mercy of the elements.



Fort Balién 10 minutes later


As she walked up to the guards on the gate, Lucia flashed them a fake smile which they returned. "You finished for the day, mademoiselle ?" The soldier on the left hand side asked. "Yes, my handsome soldier. My belly is grumbling for a decent meal." The second soldier chuckled slightly. "I wouldn't get your hopes up, it's rabbit stew again." Lucia tittered slightly, feeling dirty. "Well perhaps we can share a bowl, bring your friend if you like." The soldiers laughed as they opened the door for her. "This is why the English sing of Spanish ladies." Lucia faked a small laugh. "You don't know the half of it, soldier. We are more then fair." She laughed as she walked past them, feeling relief as the doors closed behind her with a slam. Lucia looked around the courtyard packed with french troops and the odd servant. A passage to the right led to the lower levels and the powder magazine, ahead her revenge waited. Deciding first to pay a visit to the bastard who murdered her husband and her innocence, Lucia walked towards the interior of the fort. Overhearing two french soldiers chatting. "You know the Captain as brought in another one of his whores, Georges?" Georges nodded "I don't know where the lucky bastard gets his stamina, Claude. Privilege of rank I guess." Claude shook his head. "Why should he get all the fun with the local flavour? The girl is in her chambers in the guest wing, we should pay her a visit before Broussard spoils her." Georges chuckled looping his musket over his shoulder. "What and get court martialed or worse? Non, it isn't worth it. Lets get on duty before the sergeant sees us." Smiling, Lucia made her way to the guest quarters.



Lucia had tried the first two doors in the guest quarters, finding them locked. Sighing in frustration, she tried the third door knocking this time. A young female voice answered. "Yes? Who is it? Are you here to take me to Broussard?" Lucia cleared her throat. "No, senõra. I'am here for your dirty laundry." Their was a slight pause. "Well come in then, if you must but their isn't any dirty laundry...yet, my dear." Came the tittering remark, from the other side of the door. Lucia entered to find a young woman sitting at a vanity, readying her makeup. She closed the door behind her, as she appraised the whore, rage filling her breast at the sight of her. Despite being beautiful and around Lucia's age, this woman was no better than the French. Her high cheekbones, angular features supple tanned Mediterranean skin with hazel almond eyes marked her as a local. She was dressed in a low cut white chemise that bared her neck and cleavage, pushed up by a red bodice, a long black skirt with white stockings that covered her long legs. She regarded Lucia as she brushed her long light brown hair. "What are you looking at, little maid?" The prostitute asked her as she looked back to the mirror. Lucia cocked her head to the left, her hand around the hilt of her stiletto. "So you would sleep with a man who murders our people and brutalises the rest?" The prostitute looked at her in the mirror, putting down her hairbrush. "And? So what? You work for him? How's that different? I'am just trying to survive to make a little money, señora. I couldn't care less about our people, I look out for me." Suddenly, Lucia had a violent flashback of her husband, and her friends being gunned down by Broussard. This woman dares to insult them! Drawing her stiletto, she lunged at the woman and in one smooth motion grabbed her mouth to muffle her screams then stabbed her through her throat, the blade piercing her larynx. The woman gargled muffled into Lucia's hand as she drowned in her own blood. "You are no better than the French, whore! You had this coming." She hissed in the dying woman's ear as she lowered her onto the floor. "May God forgive because I won't. Your death will serve a higher purpose."


As the woman twitched, then finally died Lucia gently withdrew the stiletto wiping the woman's blood on her cuff. There was very little blood a neat red hole in her throat, was the only thing marring her beauty. No blood had stained her clothes, thankfully Lucia having decided to put them to use herself. She stripped completely naked reflecting on the fact that while she had killed 10 Frenchmen, that was the first woman she had killed if you could call her that though Lucia. As she knelt by the woman's corpse, unbuckling her shoes Lucia felt no remorse nor pity she had taken the life of a sinner, not an innocent the bitch deserved it. Turning the corpse onto her back, closing the accusing eyes Lucia unlaced the bodice from the side pulling it free from the body. Opening out the chemise, revealed well rounded breasts with full pink slightly pointed areolas. Lucia turned the body onto her side unlacing the skirt from the rear pulling it past her hips, down her long legs exposing her peach shaped buttocks and full clit crowned with a triangle of light brown hair. Ugh! She didn't have the decency to wear a petticoat! Lucia thought as she rolled the stockings down the dead woman's long legs, one at a time. Lucia quickly got dressed in the prostitutes clothes as she sat on the chair facing the vanity. When she was fully dressed, Lucia concealed her dagger in her skirt then dragged the dead woman to her bed, rolling the naked body underneath,along with the discarded maid outfit where they were concealed by the sheets. Sitting down at the vanity, Lucia applied some makeup, brushing her hair as there was a knock at the door. "Enter." She said running the brush through her dark curls. In the mirror she saw a young Spanish maid, no more than 21 dressed in a low cut black dress with a lace collar, and a white apron entered curtseying. " Excuse me, señorita. The captain is ready for you now." Lucia put down the brush, rising up from her chair turning to face the young woman. "Then lead on, I'am looking forward to meeting him." She said as exited the room with the maid.



It only took five minutes for the maid to show Lucia to Broussard's quarters, she steeled herself calling upon both Gods blessing and His divine protection for what she was about to do, three months of waiting slaking her fury on Frenchmen had all come down to this. Has the maid knocked on Broussard's door, opening it on command as Lucia walked through the door closing it behind her. There turning to face her, was the Butcher of Madrid Yves Broussard no different from the night he had murdered her beloved Rodrigo, except he was wearing a loose white shirt and britches. " Who are you? You don't look like Maria." He said as Lucia walked towards him. "I suppose one woman is alike to another for you, but we have met my lord." Broussard squinted at her then a realisation hit him. "You! The blacksmiths wife, but I killed you!" Lucia quickly drew her stiletto rushing towards him. "I'am here to deliver god's judgement!" She said plunging the dagger into his chest, Broussard cried with pain. "That was for my husband!" Lucia cried, as she withdrew her blade. Broussard collapsed onto his bed, as Lucia straddled him. "This is for me!" Another stab, another cry of pain. "And these are for the ghosts of Madrid!" Lucia stabbed the man again and again, tears of rage in her eyes as reason gave into fury, the adrenaline coursing through her. Lucia had no idea how many times she had stabbed him, suddenly the door opened. "Excuse my lord, is everything well I hea-" It was the maid whose voice trailed off as she took in the bloody scene, Lucia still in the throes of a beserk rage didn't give the girl a chance to scream. She leapt up pulling the maid inside and pinned her up against the wall, savagely cutting her throat with a slash of steel, letting out a savage snarl.


As the young girl started to choke on her own blood, Lucia felt reason start to reassert itself she looked horrified at the savage wound she had inflicted on the innocent maid. "No,no. I'am sorry please hold on." She said as she desperately tried to staunch the flow of blood from the girls open throat, but to no avail. "Oh no, what have I done?" Lucia cried in pain as the dying maid slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. Lucia suddenly felt empty and disgusted at her savagery, looking down on her stolen clothes finding them drenched with the blood of the maid and Broussard. She looked at the dying young maid, who had fixed her with an accusing stare with those big brown eyes, her clothing had not been stained with her blood yet. Lucia felt ashamed at what she was about to do. "Forgive me sweet girl, I didn't mean to kill you." she said caressing her rounded face, the maid had started to weep as Lucia cut off her bloodied garments until she was naked. "Forgive me girl, for what I'am about do." Lucia started to strip the dying woman, taking off her shoes and hat, her raven coloured hair spilling out the girl weeped profusely knowing what Lucia was doing." Ignoring the girls twitches and sobs as she undressed her, Lucia rolled the dying girl onto her side quickly unlacing her dress pulling it loose down her body before her blood could stain it. As Lucia opened out her chemise, exposing the girls young breasts with circular dark brown nipples, the maid gave a final rattle as she finally died. Lucia made the sign of the cross. "Forgive me lord for spilling the blood of this innocent, I knew not what I did. I commend her soul onto you." After completing the last rites, Lucia stripped the reminder of the undergarments from the corpse, leaving the dead maid completely naked where she looked pitiful. Lucia turned from the body getting dressed in the dead maids clothing. Fully dressed she concealed her stiletto in her dress, before sweeping from the room locking it behind her. There was only one thing left to do, to complete her mission.



As Lucia made her down to the lower levels of the fort, her disguise allowing her to blend in, Lucia felt hollow inside. Everything had gone wrong, she had become the very thing she despised a murderer, she had sinned. Lucia had tried to rationalise the maids death after the fact. The girl would have died anyway when the fort blew, crushed by fallen masonry. She had granted the girl the mercy of a quick death now instead of a cruel slow death later. Somehow though, a voice in the back of her head that sounded like her departed husband, told her that this doesn't make it right. Lucia knew her life was forfeit, she knew what she had to do. She wanted the pain to stop, to see her husband again. To seek her redemption. Clutching her hand around her rosary, she muttered. "I'am not afraid any more, my love." As she approached the single french soldier who guarded the powder store. He gave her a puzzled look as she approached. "Excuse me, mademoiselle? You cannot be down here, it's restricted." Lucia didn't even say a word as she quickly stabbed the man under his chin, a look of surprise on his face as blood spouted from his wound as he collapsed on his side. Lucia scooped up his fallen musket as she stepped over the dying man.



Opening a small barrel of gunpowder, Lucia emptied a small trail of gunpowder towards the main powder store. Hearing the clamour of footsteps from outside the door, The soldiers must have found the bodies, it doesn't matter I will send them all to hell.. Lucia thought as she took the soldiers musket firing it and igniting it, just as the door was forced open. There, confronted by three french soldiers she cried. "My name is Lucia Diaz! And I have my revenge! May God forgive me!" She laughed as she was cut down by three shots. One of the soldiers saw the spark reach the powder. Lucia was still laughing as everything went white.



The Guerilla camp



The sound of a huge explosion drew the attention of José, General Castaños and Captain Wyndham Smith. They rushed to an overlook, seeing a scene of total devastation the fort had been blown open the broken bodies of french soldiers and quite a few camp followers littered the ruins. Their screams of pain catching the wind. "Good god! She did it, I didn't think it possible." Cried Smith in surprise. Castaños turned to him. "You shouldn't underestimate women, señor, especially Spanish women. They have the blood of warriors in their veins." José shaking his head replied. "Poor Lucia. At least she is with God and Rodrigo now. The French cannot hurt her anymore." Then he did something he did something he hadn't done in two long months, he said a prayer for Lucia's soul. To his surprise the general joined him. Even the British officer, Smith took off his hat and joined them reciting the Lords Prayer. Then after a few moments, the three men looked to the heavens then walked back down the path to camp, as Spanish troops swarmed over the ruins of the fort finishing what Lucia started.

[jaegerhunde01]

Dos De Mayo Spain....Murat, Madrid...outstanding back drop......the Spainish Ulcer
Enjoyed that

[Stormtrooper1990]

Dos De Mayo Spain....Murat, Madrid...outstanding back drop......the Spainish Ulcer
Enjoyed that

Thank you, jaegerhunde I'am glad you enjoyed the story.

[rufusluciusivan]

Lucia, no! Now we Frenchmen will never rule all of Europe because the Spanish guerrilla warfare will eat up our resources!

Well, I'm trying to kill the mood, but I won't deny the end felt a bit emotional. I'm a sucker for the Heroic Sacrifice trope. Lucia herself was a compelling protagonist - tragic backstory, moral code, exploration of her psychology, moment of mistake, and tragic fate. Too bad she was only a one-time character, her death would have been more impactful had she been a recurring one.

Sadly, revenge stories rarely end well... Reminds me of a movie called Le vieux fusil (The Old Gun). A man loses his wife and daughter who are massacred by German soldiers during World War II. During the course of the movie, he takes revenge by killing them off (with his old gun). The end shows he's now a husk of his former self, because he's still lost his family. 9/10. Gave me depression.

On a side note, I think nun uniforms have rarely appeared on stories in this board, so it helps this tale stand out.

[Stormtrooper1990]

Lucia, no! Now we Frenchmen will never rule all of Europe because the Spanish guerrilla warfare will eat up our resources!

Well, I'm trying to kill the mood, but I won't deny the end felt a bit emotional. I'm a sucker for the Heroic Sacrifice trope. Lucia herself was a compelling protagonist - tragic backstory, moral code, exploration of her psychology, moment of mistake, and tragic fate. Too bad she was only a one-time character, her death would have been more impactful had she been a recurring one.

Sadly, revenge stories rarely end well... Reminds me of a movie called Le vieux fusil (The Old Gun). A man loses his wife and daughter who are massacred by German soldiers during World War II. During the course of the movie, he takes revenge by killing them off (with his old gun). The end shows he's now a husk of his former self, because he's still lost his family. 9/10. Gave me depression.

On a side note, I think nun uniforms have rarely appeared on stories in this board, so it helps this tale stand out.

Nope! Looks like the French have been unmanned! And have to conquer all of Europe the old fashioned way, through tourism! And as a Brit I can emphasise, for it was a bunch of Colonials that ended our world conquering ambitions!


Joking aside, protagonists like Lucia are my favourite to write about, tortuered souls who have lost everything and have nothing left to lose. I'am you glad you liked her. It felt fitting to have her die a heroes death and not die a monster, which of course she wasn't. But because she violated her own morals, all she wanted was for the pain to stop and join her husband. I felt that having her as a one off character, would make her life and fate stand out. A snapshot of a life destroyed by the horrors of war.


You are very right. It brings into mind that old Chinese proverb; "If you desire revenge, you must first dig two graves." This as always struck a cord in me and the protagonist, you describe from The Old Gun is a perfect example of this. Lucia reminds me of Nadja and Miranda from the SI. All women had lost a loved one, and went on revenge missions where they killed many people. But at the end of the day, they were all left hollow. Nadja, turned into a remorseless killer but later found love and redemption. While Miranda was left with the realisation that she would never see her sister again. (But she never showed any remorse, and to this day doesn't regret what she did.) The difference is M & N found redemption through each other and serving a greater good. Lucia, just couldn't carry on living.


I agree, nuns haven't been a feature on the board which is strange considering it's a perfect disguise. Everyone looks at the habit, not the face wearing it. And the nun disguise scene was my personal favourite I enjoyed writing the most. Poor sister Maria answered the call of nature but ended up naked in a bush with a concussion for her trouble.

[FemaleSpy]

Amazing story and like your comments, great disguises, all story reminds me 2 films: "Kill Bill", because part "But I'm killed you, damn woman" and "Glorious Bastards" by Tarantino, because "I'm take your souls in Hell with myself"

P.S. Hope for some civilian next time, especially this time before"technical boom", where beautiful female villagers just do simple daily things, but sometimes was strange situations with those revolutions and etc ;D

[Stormtrooper1990]

Amazing story and like your comments, great disguises, all story reminds me 2 films: "Kill Bill", because part "But I'm killed you, damn woman" and "Glorious Bastards" by Tarantino, because "I'm take your souls in Hell with myself"

P.S. Hope for some civilian next time, especially this time before"technical boom", where beautiful female villagers just do simple daily things, but sometimes was strange situations with those revolutions and etc ;D

Thank you very much for your kind words, I'am glad you enjoyed the story FemaleSpy.


I must admit I'am a huge fan of revenge tales, particularly with a female protagonist. And having seen both Kill Bill (both volumes) and the excellent Inglorious Basterds (I just adored Shoshana, who was the inspiration for my WW2 story Her Righteous Vengeance.) I can certainly agree. The idea of a vengeful woman stealing disguises from other women is a very sexy one. (How I wished the Bride could have mugged a pretty female nurse instead. )


P.S I will keep that in mind, for future stories. After all the best way to blend into a civilian population, in a time of uncertainty is to disguise as a beautiful female villager. Since no one will see that character coming until it's too late.

[FemaleSpy]

Amazing story and like your comments, great disguises, all story reminds me 2 films: "Kill Bill", because part "But I'm killed you, damn woman" and "Glorious Bastards" by Tarantino, because "I'm take your souls in Hell with myself"

P.S. Hope for some civilian next time, especially this time before"technical boom", where beautiful female villagers just do simple daily things, but sometimes was strange situations with those revolutions and etc ;D

Thank you very much for your kind words, I'am glad you enjoyed the story FemaleSpy.


I must admit I'am a huge fan of revenge tales, particularly with a female protagonist. And having seen both Kill Bill (both volumes) and the excellent Inglorious Basterds (I just adored Shoshana, who was the inspiration for my WW2 story Her Righteous Vengeance.) I can certainly agree. The idea of a vengeful woman stealing disguises from other women is a very sexy one. (How I wished the Bride could have mugged a pretty female nurse instead. )


P.S I will keep that in mind, for future stories. After all the best way to blend into a civilian population, in a time of uncertainty is to disguise as a beautiful female villager. Since no one will see that character coming until it's too late.