Damnum

Since George had been utterly rejected by Helena, his state of mind had slumped even further. Something which wasn’t helped by a lack of visitors. Cloaked in an inky black George felt himself succumb to the abyss beneath him, as though eternally falling, unable to catch himself.

It was at this moment that a bright light visited him, glowing through the black curtains the light did its best to illuminate his life. George’s mother stood at the door and with freshly baked bread in hand, she sat herself beside her son. 

The two dark onyx eyes looked into each other, George found a certain comfort in it.

Somehow his mother’s dark eyes filled with emotion, and without a word, she simply handed him some of the bread. Coercing him to eat, George felt his mouth fill with a gentle explosion of immeasurable flavour in this world.

 Such were the simple aspects of life, food which many may take for granted was a special delight for George.

Nothing else compared to the pure joy that filled George that hour, his mother didn’t have to do a thing he had saved himself. All she had to do was provide a method for him to escape, and he did. 

Through George’s appreciation for much of his life, he had regained a new burning passion within him. One that wasn’t sparked by the want to change the world, but to save his mother. 

It was this bond that drove George out of his bed to find himself once again standing at Helena’s door. It may have been seen as a delusional burst of energy and inspiration, but at least it brought him here.

Knock

Freshly born out of his reclusive hole, George waited to face Helena. Only to be faced with Miss Helena.

“If you’re looking for Helena, she’s probably out in the town centre sweetie.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

George found he had to take a slight detour, but his passion was yet to extinguish, as he waddled his way over to the town centre. 

There he found the regular Scorcher population bustling about collecting their daily announcements or participating in other actions. Although after some time looking about Helena was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps he had missed her somewhere, up on a roof or in a hidden corridor. Yet she was still as elusive as ever. Although certainly more elusive than usual as George was fairly confident in his ability to spot her in a crowd.

Still nothing, George’s began to frantically overheat as he (mainly out of annoyance) searched the entire centre back and forth… twice.

Still nothing, now George’s search took him to slightly outside the centre, and his passion still burning he scaled some boxes and then some roofs in search of her.

Still nothing, now thinking of some other areas his sprinted down to the trash heap, there he found Eugo conversing with some other girl but that wasn’t important. He made his way across several other roofs nearing the castle.

§

By the time George had arrived at the castle, his initial annoyance and confusion had morphed into a hopefully mistaken fear. He looked down… below he saw a small iron ring. He knew who it belonged to; he’d seen it on her for almost every day he’d known Helena. 

She’d never take it off. and it was surrounded with blood.

George’s mind warped at where he was, his mind drifted back to the blood and pain. Oh, such horrific pain the clawed its way into his bones, scratching out any semblance of logic or passion.

His eyes boggled as he found himself throwing up the cause of his passion on the ground ahead of him. Scars burned on his body, as though threatening to reopen if he were to move any closer. The memories tore at his mind, leaving his body a mess in its wake.

Terrified he landed onto his knees, and he prayed. Hoping with all of his heart that she wasn’t in that dreaded castle. All he wanted was a response, a sarcastic grin or a wry smile behind him. One that would find amusement in his stupid prayer, anything absolutely anything.

George waited.

Nothing, not even the sound of cracking fire disturbed the sickly peace. All was quiet and George knew exactly what he had to do. Curling into a ball he cried.

Tears streamed out from his eyes so fast they mixed with the gastric substance underneath him. Bathing in it the boy released all emotion from his incapable flesh. All that was left, an empty husk, one that stared forth without any passion or emotion.

§

What was left in wake was a beast, no longer human. 

It was driven by one goal. Still drenched in its own horrid stench the creature crawled forwards.

The ghoul slithered its way down towards one of the many caves beneath the castle’s wall. It slid its way through the cave, swimming through the darkness it curled its way to the other side. 

The cave brightened down the other side, and it moved closer and closer to the end.

Disguised by its stench the creature almost seemed to blend into the ash scented cave. Brightened by the light it even saw floating snowflakes of grey matter pressing against its torso.

Drenched in dust it made its way to the light, slithering prone alongst the ground. Two dark scaled eyes scanned the area ahead, it saw metal, wood, and flesh. Yet none of the flesh it was looking for.

Continuing along the ground its legs stuck to the sticky floor, a thick ruby substance had dried across the floor. The bloodied swamp beckoned the creature, and it continued its perilous journey.

At this point some of the beings of flesh had noticed him, clawing at their cages they screamed and cried. Paired with the glistening drops of tears and blood they sang in beautiful harmony at the creature. It cared not, it only had one goal, and it moved ever closer towards it.

She lay strapped onto a flat metal slab, cold and bare her dark skin was barely visible in the dim lamplight. The creature’s eyes widened; it had found its goal. 

It bit and tore at her restraints, perhaps they were made of metal, perhaps of straw; all would have broken. The creatures cracked teeth and bruised arms twisted their way towards her.

Carrying Helena, the creature began to sprint, all power went to its four legs as it blurred its way past the crying eyes either side. Although one’s eyes were filled with anger, jealousy… fear and that was all it took. 

A sudden wail crept up the castle stairs towards a single man, that man with bloodshot eyes took his rifle ready to shoot the beast.

The creature moved faster than it had in all of its life, there were some times when even its own body defied the natural order. The sound of stampeding men and ricocheting rounds sparked either side of it. 

It saw the warm light at the end of the tunnel, there was on last shot behind it, it didn’t matter. The creature scaled its way up the steep wall ahead, nothing could stop its unmeasurable power.

Back in the familiar territory of ash and iron the creature listened, the waving ears heard nothing. Escape had been successful; a howl escaped its lips of pure joy and wonder.

Though it looked down at its goal, the creature saw metal.

Protruding from the lady’s neck. 

Blood escaped the girl’s nape as the creature’s eyes budged in fear, cries paired against rasping breath.

Her eyes opened and viewed the creature, and it saw such warm dark eyes. It had seen them before. 

The beast’s mind attempted to descend into madness, but the warm hands comforted him. Woman and beast embraced the sound of nothing, the sound of death.

The hand grew cold, icy it fell away. 

The creature no longer cried, it simply stared, nothing was left inside it. Emotion had long since left to the moon, while dreams had died in a mixture of lead and blood.

It just laid there, alone. The creature was no creature but a boy, and that boy was broken. 

How could such a being be treated with such cruelty thought the boy, massacred and brutalised? 

It was nothing compared to the sudden coming of death, it would swamp him when the time came. Yet somehow as much as he wished it to be, now was not the time. 

His life meant there must’ve been something more, there was something else. The boy just didn’t know what yet. 

Was it joy, salvation, satisfaction, love, wonder, praise or any of the like? Or damnation, torture, or death? 

Such human thoughts flowed through the boy’s mind; one couldn’t even question them. He was no boy, but a man. 

This man had formed a new goal, one of peace and one of love. His mind had experienced enough pain for a lifetime, and such a short life that was.

“What is this demonic existence? Why must one live, only to suffer? What is this concept of life?”