The Farewell

The market square fell deathly silent. Billy stood statue-still, his father’s blood drying in cracked rivulets on his skin, the metallic stench clogging his throat. His hands trembled faintly at his sides, fingers curled into helpless claws. The crowd’s stares prickled like knives against his flesh—wide-eyed, horrified, *accusing*.

Then the drunk man staggered forward, reeking of sour whiskey and rot. “Hey!” he slurred, yellowed teeth bared. “Why’s this brat *drenched* in blood?!” He gripped Billy’s shoulder, shaking him roughly. “You kill someone, boy? *Huh?*”

Billy’s lips parted, but no sound came. His mind screamed, *Dad’s gone. Dad’s gone. Dad’s—*

***THUD.***

The drunk shoved him. Billy stumbled, his shoes slipping in the blood-slick grime. “*ANSWER ME!*” the man roared, spittle flying.

***POP.***

The drunk’s body burst like overripe fruit. Blood misted the air, speckling bystanders, splattering a child’s ice cream cart. Screams erupted—sharp, primal—as the crowd recoiled. Billy stared at his hands, now gloved in red *twice over*.

“*Monster!*” a woman shrieked.

“*He’s cursed!*”

Dan’s metal leg clanged against stone as he climbed onto a vendor’s stall, his grin venomous. “People of MC City!” he bellowed. “Your *beloved* John is gone! But *I* will protect you—starting with this *abomination!*”

The crowd hesitated. Then, like a sickening tide, voices rose: “*Kill the beast! Kill the beast!*”

Dan loaded his rifle, the *click* echoing like a coffin lid slamming shut.

“**BILLY!**”

Masha’s voice shattered the cacophony. She tore through the crowd, her apron streaked with flour and tears, her hair wild. Billy’s legs finally buckled. He crashed into her arms, his voice a shattered whisper: “H-he… *exploded*, Mom. Dad just… *gone*—”

Masha clutched him, her tears dripping into his hair. “I know,” she choked. “I *know*.”

Dan sneered. “Pathetic. The beast dies. *You* die too.”

Masha whirled, shielding Billy. Her voice dropped, raw and urgent: “Listen to me. *Run.* Don’t look back. *Promise.*”

Billy shook his head wildly. “*Mom—*”

“**PROMISE ME!**”

Her scream jolted him. He stumbled back, her plea clawing at his heart. The crowd parted—not in fear, but in silent, shameful pity. Dan’s shot rang out, grazing Masha’s arm as Billy fled, her blood mingling with John’s on his shirt.

---

He ran until his lungs burned, until the city’s clamor faded into the howl of wind through skeletal trees. Collapsing in the dirt, he retched, bile and blood staining the ground. Exhaustion dragged him into nightmares—flashes of his father’s smile, Dan’s leer, his mother’s scream.

Dawn found him curled in a patch of frostbitten grass, surrounded by wolf carcasses. Their blood blackened the snow, their glassy eyes staring accusingly. Billy gagged, scrambling backward—

A shadow loomed.

The monster towered over him, smoke-body writhing, skull-face grinning. Its hollow eyes glowed violet—*the same cursed hue as Billy’s crystal*.

Billy’s breath froze. The crystal pulsed—a heartbeat of dread, a promise of ruin.