Chapter 186

  The Unspoken Hurt (IV)

  "You can't, brother! Father will get mad!" A young boy cried out, trying desperately to stop the older one from sneaking out.

  Past the window was a dark night, ashen clouds cloaking even the faint few scatterings of the moonlight.

  "Let me go!" The older boy yanked himself free as the younger fell down. "And if you say anything, I will feed you ants until your head explodes, you hear me?!"

  It was the fourth night in a row that the older boy snuck out--the last time Father caught him, he'd put him over the knee for almost four hours.

  A'tun had never seen their father so angry before--so angry that he beat Laye until the latter had no more tears to cry.

  But it didn't matter.

  His older brother kept sneaking out, still, and A'tun didn't even know where to.

  Not anymore, however.

  Gritting his teeth, the young boy sprang back to his feet and shuffled over to the window, vaulting somewhat awkwardly and landing on a slight slope by their house. The distant lights of the vast compound scared him for a moment, but he quickly shook himself free of fear and used an ordinary chant to follow Laye's scent.

  North and west he went, over to the Dark Woods.

  Nobody was supposed to go into the Dark Woods--that was where the beasts of heraldry lay dormant and were never to be disturbed.

  But if Laye went there... he had to see what his older brother was doing!

  Bracing the tiny wooden doll he always had with him before bedtime, he slid down the slight slope and into the tall grass; their house was at the very edge of the compound, where tall grass and strange flowers surrounded it from all but one side.

  He tried to make as little noise as possible, his legs scraping against the rather dry and sharp blades of grass, cutting him... yet he endured the pain, speeding up.

  He walked so for nearly ten minutes before coming up to the forest's entrance--tall grass slowly waned, and in its place grew even taller, darker trees, their trunks and branches and leaves all pitch-black.

  A gentle breeze blew by, yet, as the grass swayed, the branches and leaves remained unmoving.

  Pinching his cheeks to once again become fearless, he braved the steps into the dark. Rather than following with his eyes, he followed with the spell--his brother's scent was growing thicker and thicker, and he didn't have to walk too long in the endless dark to find a spark of light.

  He hurried over, still making as little noise as possible, and hid behind one of the trunks just before the trees opened up into a round clearing.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  There, he saw Laye's familiar figure--he was on his knees, arched backward like a bow, arms splayed. Before him was... something. It was dark and ghastly and faceless, save for the eyes red like blood.

  It spoke in an unfamiliar tongue, stirring the howling, cold winds to blow around the boy as they lifted him off the ground.

  A'tun saw winds shape themselves into daggers and aim toward the hapless body of a boy, and he screamed.

  "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Shooting out from between the trees, his fingers snapped into motion as he conjured several sheets of paper in front of him and lit them ablaze.

  Six spherical balls of fire appeared and lit up the forest as though it were day, and he hurtled them all toward the ghastly figure. It screeched as the flames came upon it, yet the fire never made it that far--a sheet of black spun into a vortex and sucked all the flames as the thump of a falling body echoed and the crimson eyes shifted their focus over to him.

  "IDIOT!! YOU GODDAMNED IDIOT!!" Laye's voice was piercing, like the shriek of a banshee.

  Looking over, A'tun froze--Laye was weeping bloody tears, and the corners of his lips were leaking blood, and his skin seemed to be... melting, almost. His expression was one of anger and unwillingness as he struggled to his feet and started stumbling over toward him.

  "YOU JUST HAD TO GO TO SLEEP!! YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!" His screams turned hoarse and unfamiliar. "IF I HAVE TO DIE, THEN SO DO YOU, YOU BASTARD!!"

  Laye grasped his shoulder tightly--so tightly that A'tun heard the bone crack as the pain assailed all his senses.

  He was so much taller than A'tun and so much stronger...

  "P-p-please..." A'tun whimpered, feeling something swell in his throat. "Laye..."

  "I should have killed you the day they brought you home, you vile thing," the old boy cursed. "If you weren't born... if you weren't born, I would have been the chosen one... I would have been given the Grace... so, why? Why were you born!? Why were you born, A'tun?!!"

  The body began to disintegrate before his eyes as A'tun felt his heart freeze. Like scorched bits of firewood pressed within the tight grip of Father's fingers.

  "You wouldn't even let me have this... this one chance to become something. Hah. I hope you live a life of misery, you sniveling little piece of garbage!"

  Darkness erupted rather violently--A'tun felt his lungs turn scorched for a moment as his body was flung backward like a cannonball directly into a tree. The sounds of the breaking bones were a horrifying melody as he felt his spine snap and his legs give out at the exact same moment.

  He couldn't see or hear anything, only privy to the shambling husk his body had become.

  Then, there was light--like a fire within the darkness, it grew wild and quick, consuming everything.

  When he came to, he was in a hall of white, tall and endless, and beyond him were the invisible bars chaining him to this place.

  Yet, he could see it all--he could see his body shake and shiver for a moment, and he could see its eyes open, and he could see the broken bones heal as the body stood up and shook off the dust, and he could hear the sonorous, gleeful laughter stored deep within...

  And he could see it walk up to the amalgamation of darkness and fall to its knees, and he could hear the two speak in a tongue he could not understand, and he could see a thousand, many-thousand things more...

  When his body kidnapped young Loie and strapped her to the basement chair, skinning her alive from head to toe.

  Or when his body drank the blood for the first time.

  Or when his body killed all his friends, one by one.

  Or when it was discovered and hunted, and when his father helped it escape.

  He could see his body roam the world, gathering evil bits and trinkets from every-which-where, and he could see when his body returned to the compound, invisible to all those who once hunted it, and he could see his body become a young girl and talk to a young boy, and he could see his deformed body corrupt the boy and feed him lies, and he could see it teach him all the wrong magic spells that his brother used to practice...

  And now, he could see his body looking at a complex web of runes spun in a hexagon, at whose center lay a suspended body of a now young man, his limbs splayed in four directions.

  He could see it all... and not do a thing to stop it.

  Just watch and watch, endlessly devoured in darkness that his name now bore. Had he never been born... none of this would have happened.

  Had he only never been born.

  All he wanted was to have never been born.

  Never.

  Ever.