In his eyes..
There it was—lurking deep within that boy's eyes.
But—what is "it?"
I can feel something in that expanse of void, staring—at me.
But—there's nothing there…
I—don't understand.
"What—are you?..."
The man asked, his voice trembling.
The boy before him stared back with no response, his face—emotionless.
Behind him—ruins of his hometown, engulfed in flames of terror.
His bright golden hair followed the cold breeze carrying the incense of inferno sent forth by the sky; encumbered by the dreadful reign of the dark clouds.
Ethereal arms shone bright behind the boy as they encompassed him.
The boy's glare remained steadfast—his eyes were dark—completely dark.
The man stepped back, his hands quaking.
The right arm unwrapped itself, and started to come forth, beyond the boy.
It pointed—pointed at the man.
The boy's eyes widened suddenly as he abruptly stood up.
The scorched cloak of white he was holding, cascaded below him as he trampled over it.
"I don't understand."
"I—don't understand."
"I—don't—understand!"
The man muttered—his face warped into one of horror as he began to back away before exploding into a swift sprint.
"Help!"
"Someone—help me!"
He cried out—the tone of voice sounded almost artificial.
His arms—flailing around like a puppet with tangled strings.
His pace took an inconsistent form the longer he ran.
Branches cracked beneath him as the trees wailed.
The boy walked towards him—his march fueled by an unknown purpose, yet it couldn't hide its malevolency.
The man began to fade—his arms disappearing into a thick light of azure, followed by his torso, and head.
The fog rose up, as to escape the boy—who despite the distance between them, landed directly upon the last remnants of the conjured smog of light.
He looked up.
His eyes still widened.
His white pupils glowed as they tracked something moving in the sky.
"My apostle…"
A booming, yet calm voice manifested.
"You—have failed, it seems."
The arms wrapped around the boy's neck, twisting it ever so slowly.
One of the hands smothered his face.
His eye visible through its grasp.
"Come forth… My dear apostle."
"Let us learn from this…"
***
A shallow breeze echoed amidst the crunch of footprints in the snow.
A question if I may…
Is the world cruel, because of the monsters that inhabit it?
Or perhaps, do monsters exist, because the world—is cruel?
The boy wiped the smudge of crimson off his lips.
He pulled himself off the ground—suffocated by the white of snow, and the red of blood.
The group of men before him walked away jestering—red blemishes lining their knuckles.
The boy fell back down as the echoes of their footsteps retreated.
His vision—weary.
His ears—ringing
He found himself in an alleyway, separated from the rest of the world.
Through his incoherent hearing, he could hear a voice yell out his name, and soon—through his blurred vision, he could see a hand reach out to him.
"Leith?"
The voice stammered—perplexed.
"Lior?..."
He muttered, his hand quaking as he reached out.
"What happened to you man!?"
Lior questioned worryingly as helped Leith to his feet.
"The usual—why'd you come?"
Leith asked as he chuckled through writhing pain.
"You never showed up to the shrine so I began to worry, and it seems I was right in doing so."
"I'm sorry for troubling you—we should get going before another surge of refugees come along."
He replied—limping as he sought refuge along the brick walls support.
Lior hastily rushed to aid him.
"But your injuries—"
"I'm alright man!—let's go already."
The bright orange hue of a streetlights' illuminance had encompassed them as they exited the alley—clashing with the eerie smog, unleashed forth by the seemingly endless winter that enveloped their world.
Amidst them lay towers of stone, as the influence of age left them almost using each other as crutches as they leant.
The streets were crawling with panicked pedestrians as they ran amok—each of them hauling heaps of personal belongings as they flocked down the cold brick road.
"They say we might get hit by a purge soon."
Lior said, zipping up his bulky wool coat.
"Yeah, the lack of military activity in our town is probably what has everyone on edge recently."
"I wonder where they all went."
"I would assume it'd be the same reason your family were shipped off too."
"Probably…"
Lior replied in a hushed voice, forming a frown.
"What about you, Leith?"
"Are you still planning on avoiding your parents?"
He asked after a moment of silence.
Leith remained quiet.
"You can't keep this whole thing up forever, you know."
Lior added, now turning his head to look at Leith as they walked.
"Then what do you suppose I should do?—Show up to their house and announce to the whole world where the parents of the 'Print of Calamity' live?"
His fist clenched as his voice resonated with anger at his position.
Lior didn't reply right away—not that he wouldn't, rather, he couldn't.
They drifted forth amidst a dense horde.
The bumping of shoulders became persistent and unquestionably irritating.
"So, you plan on suffering in silence?"
A clearance had formed, and the horde came to an abrupt halt.
"I've got no other choice."
Leith ominously whispered—a cold look in his eyes.
"Hurry it up!"
Blared out a voice, standing atop a ledge adjacent to a large gate.
The gate was blocked off by a horse–led caravan.
Dozens of people gathered around, each carrying an abundance of their belongings.
They bit on their nails as their anxiety caught up to their patience.
Monsters; creatures that encompass themselves in blissful ignorance—they wear masks—each a carefully sculpted mosaic of traits they believe would paint them as something other than a 'monster.'
"What should we do?—That's the only way into the outskirts."
Lior asked apprehensively as he scanned around nervously.
Leith threw his hood up without a word, and tried to back away slowly.
Perhaps the appearance of a martyr, or maybe the smile of benevolence—they believe these masks could mold their true faces overtime, yet the irony—their grotesque faces beneath decay into the very look of a monster.
"Hold it!"
"Is that who I think it is?"
The voice yelled out abruptly.
"Hey Print!"
Another voice hollered.
"You didn't seriously think we'd let you through, did you?"
Monsters come in a variety of forms: the sadistic ones, the lustful ones, the dishonorable ones, the envious ones.
But if you were to ask me which ones I detest the most—
"Damn it, Leith—run!"
Lior cried out, but to no avail.
A horde of armed guards had surrounded Leith.
I'd tell you the hypocritical ones.
"To have the audacity to try barging through here and blending in with the rest of us, looking for 'safety' from the purge as if you're helpless."
The guards held him in place, as the one in authority marched forth.
Leith locked eyes with him—maintaining an expressionless appearance.
Us?—Watch as they point fingers, in hopes it may veil their own hypocrisy.
Does the blade in your hand not give you the mantle of responsibility over these people?
Yet you choose to position yourselves closest to the exit—wasn't I the one pretending to be helpless?
"Be honest with me 'Print', you started this whole damn thing, didn't you?"
The guard rhetorically questioned.
No answer would satisfy his quench, none but one…
Then come the cowardly ones.
Some remained silent, while most cheered as the guards pointed their blades at Leith.
The deafening impact of insults echoed amidst the freezing breeze.
They betray any and all sense of logic out of fear, and their own incompetence.
Their actions are entirely dependent on a fight or flight dynamic–once they see something that threatens them in the slightest, they either try to make themselves seem larger and more capable than they actually are, or they simply run away–like cowards.
"Have you no shame? How dare you show your face in this place!"
"That's the bastard that came around my house the day it burned down!"
"I saw him the day I got fired!"
"Stupid hex!—You must be the reason I can't–"
Splat!
The sound of a snow-covered stone within the chaos caused the crowd to go into abrupt silence.
"Pathetic! All of you—are so pathetic!"
Shouted Lior in a delirious state of fury, while wiping the snow off his face—a reflection of the shock around him mirrored in his sharp eyes, his voice shaking with outrage.
"You can't be serious… listen to yourselves!"
He stepped forward, chest puffed and fists clenched, trembling—not with fear, but self-restraint.
You're blaming a single guy for all these obviously unrelated problems in your life, just how low could you all possibly stoop!?"
Lior remarked as he waved his arms around like a madman—stomping on the snowy ground out of anger.
"Alright that's enough–"
A guard yelled out, raising his hand as to silence Lior—but he didn't budge, Lior took another step forward.
"Ask yourselves this… have you ever seen him actually commit these heinous crimes you accuse him of? Or are you just using these shallow accusations as a means to feel better about yourselves—truly, all of you are so patheti–!"
"I said that's enough!"
The guard barked—taking steps toward Lior.
"That's right."
Leith admitted abruptly—catching everyone by surprise, his gaze, cold and fixated on the ground.
"I alone, am the source of all your misfortunes."
He said, now looking up to face the crowd.
The air; thick with the suspense that arose from this sudden revelation—fuel added to the fire that is the hatred towards Leith.
However, these monsters also share a trait that comes in contrast with most other monsters—they can hardly keep their mask intact—their true colors shine the moment their little act is challenged.
"Leith… what the hell—do you think you're doing!?"
Lior begged.
They plant one foot forward, yet the other one is at the foot of the gate—ready to flee.
They point their blade at you—their chests visibly puffed, yet their hands tremble.
And the moment you call their little bluff…
"Infact, every single tragedy to befall you people was indeed my doing, and I genuinely could care less about what you have to say to me—but right now, you happen to be wasting my precious time… so move, or else I'll kill every last one of you."
Leith declared while lowering his hood—his face blank and expressionless.
They turn, and flee—like cowards…
Gasps tore throughout the crowd—the mob, though once on the brink of tearing him apart, stood frozen.
The guards once surrounding Leith stepped back—their blades remained pointing as they quaked, and their lips trembling as they sat in a muted shock.
Leith walked through the once mob—behind him followed Lior as wore an irritated expression.
They transcended into the grounds of the city's outskirts.
Lights got dimmer.
Sound became scarce.
The people once beckoning to pass the only salvation of escape left before them had halted in their pursuit—none had tried to conquer the gate after the Print had left his mark.
"What were you thinking?... Are you trying to get yourself killed, Leith!? I could never be satisfied with you digging yourself a deeper grave to protect me–it's not fair!"
Lior exclaimed out of frustration
"I could say the same to you–don't go affiliating yourself with me like that before you think twice about the repercussions that come with it."
Leith replied with a stern look on his face.
"You think I care about what could have happened to me?"
"What about you!?.. I'm not just gonna stand there and watch them pummel you for a crime you didn't commit."
He remarked—stopping to meet Leith's gaze, his voice sounded of concern shrouded beneath a facade of anger.
"You can't just keep doing this self-sacrificial crap over, and over again to try to protect me, or your parents, Leith!"
Lior laid his hands on Leith's shoulders in an advisory manner.
"You really believe I didn't do it?"
"Of course I believe… no, I know—you didn't do it."
Lior answered as they stood at the stone steps of the shrine—overlooking the eerie and desolate expanse of town before them.
"Tell me, how could you possibly be okay with everything they do to you—none of it makes any sense."
He said, his expression–one of confusion and sadness.
"Could you really blame them, Lior?"
Leith said as he took another step forward–his face red from the frost enveloping them.
"The people of this town live burdensome lives… Lives they can't bear to live on their own without any outlet for that pent up anger and grief."
Spirals of cold air formed as Leith took a deep breath, preparing to continue.
"So when one comes along—especially one they deem worthy for any and every adversity that comes their way, they just can't help it—whether they're certain of the rumors they hear or not… As long as everyone hates that person, then it must be okay to hate them too."
Lior's expression was one of astonishment.
Before the words left his lips, you could tell he hated every bit of what he was hearing.
"But—that's just cruel, it's not a logical standpoint whatsoever, nor does it justify their actions!"
Lior replied—a deep rooted anger in his voice.
"But that's just it, Lior… People are—cruel…"
"It's counterintuitive to believe that people view your value from first glance through nothing more than the lens of prejudice—that's just how people are."
Leith replied, clenching his fist.
Some may rush to answer my question as a result.
"Your identity in this world—is solely consistent with how people see you. Without observation, who you truly are, is utterly irrelevant… And that's the ugly truth."
Leith finally concluded, as he took the final step to the peak of the shrine—looking down on the entire town below them—his breath fogging in the cold air.
"In that case Leith…"
"As long as I'm around, your identity in this world isn't some cruel monster that evokes a curse wherever he places foot."
Snowflakes drifted, carried by the breeze of the winter wind—landing on Lior's face as he made his declaration.
"What are you-"
"No, you're the guy who saved me from living a stagnant, and miserable life of a coward."
Lior proclaimed, his gaze set with honest determination.
"You're the guy who succumbs to his own altruism, because he's way too considerate of others."
"And you're the guy who-"
"Alright, alright… That's enough."
"Honestly, you really are so naive."
Leith chuckled as he stood next to Lior—both facing the balcony.
However; to answer, you must understand, and to understand, you must experience, wouldn't you agree?
He was nothing short of stunned, his face—once expressionless, had shifted to something slightly resembling relief.
Lior gave a light smile as he grabbed the ice cold railings of the shrine balcony
"You didn't have to stop me back there, you know?"
Lior said as he admired the vibrant shade of illuminance beautifully dispersed throughout the bustling town beyond their place of serenity.
"That would be far too selfish of me—those people are all harbouring grief under all that hate, who am I to stop them from letting it all out?"
Leith replied as he smiled, his dark blue eyes, complemented by the contrast of the red on his cheeks and the dark blue evening sky.
"And yet I'm supposed to be the naive one?"
Lior snickered as his fingers gripped the railing—they lived a moment of serenity as the tranquility of the shrine with its vivid and diverse colors immersed them, alongside a cold, shallow breeze of wind.
Leith turned around, checking the leather-strapped watch on his wrist, his eyes grew pale and emotionless in contrast to just a minute ago—following the motion of the clock's hand.
His mind grew distant, far from the shrine, and far from Lior.
Hence, as I walk the same trails as these monsters,
"It's weird, I can't feel any atheris in the city from all the way up here… Say, Leith, why did you bring us up here anyway?
Lior asked, still looking out the balcony, but Leith didn't respond.
The air around them danced with snowflakes, reflecting a faint orange hue from the once dark sky—a hue that got brighter, and brighter.
breathe the same air as these monsters,
"Leith?"
Lior repeated—still no response.
CRACK!
Lior turned in response to the sudden resonance—through his peripheral; the faint image of a zip of purple lightning.
and even gaze at the same silhouette of the moon—the same faint streams of moonlight that bleed through the seams of the seemingly impenetrable clouds as these monsters,
Before he could fully turn to confirm what he saw, the hue of violet faded into a fiery vermillion of flame.
I realize—that we,
"Leith!"
"FWOOUUM–KRRAAAASH!"
are all monsters.
The sky erupted in flames as the blaze pierced through the fog.
Screams echoed through the town, however masked by the roar of the storm of infernos.
Vigorous gusts of winds shook the surroundings as the flame-engulfed heart of the city hid behind walls of amber.
With his hair blowing violently by the gales of inferno, Leith's face remained expressionless, as if he foresaw this coming—his back still facing the town.
"Well then.."
"Leith!"
"We have to go–"
But he already sprinted past him, his face shrouded in an almost artificial look of worry.
"Damn it Leith!"
"Where do you think you're going!?"
Lior yelled out in a frenzy, but to no avail.
Leith galloped down the stone, snow-covered steps of the shrine, reaching the verge of slipping and cascading down multiple times before reaching the bottom.
It was a massacre.
The sky, shattered, and completely shrouded by smoke and flame.
The air, too thick and heavy to breathe—yet Leith ran, panting through his fatigue.
He ran through the crowd of smouldered bodies—the scent of burning flesh clashed against the smell of smoke.
Rubble from the buildings around him collapsed, almost to stop him from running—yet it was in vain.
That's right.
If we're all monsters, then we all must share a common benefactor; being, this world.
Children cried out for their mothers.
Petrified wails echoed through the once lively streets.
However, the cries of the damned were soon drowned out by an abrupt metallic screech.
KIIIIIEEEEHHH—!
A spontaneous shriek of terror deafened Leith as he overlapped an alleyway.
He looked to his left, catching sight of a behemoth of a disfigured mutant with bones protruding out of its skin and teeth the length of his entire hand.
It charged at him—jaws wide open, as to swallow him whole.
With a cutting whirr, a javelin of metal spun—slicing the air.
Thwunk!
Its edge skewered the monstrosity—cutting clean through its skull and leaving it twitching violently as it remained pinned to the ground beneath.
Leith looked behind him to acknowledge his saviour.
"Go!.. Leith!"
Lior shouted as he retracted his arm—the other one holding the other half of the metal rod.
Grateful, Leith turned forward and ran as fast as he physically could.
"Left, no–right!"
Leith said out loud to himself, gasping for air as he attempted to traverse through the ruins of his once hometown—avoiding trampling on the bodies that lined his path… Until, there it was—the nostalgic streetlight looming over the aged-brick lined roof hummed its final sparks.
The corroded front door held onto its hinges with every last bit of its strength.
Leith let out a sigh of temporary relief as he grabbed its handle, on the verge of entering the threshold of his home.
Crackle.
His breath jerked through his dry lips.
"—hah—..."
It wasn't a breath of terror or of anger, no—it was one of disbelief.
His eyes gaped wide open, quaking more and more as time seemed to have stood still.
"No! Leith, don't look—run!"
"Run away!"
But he couldn't, not at the sight of his mother with a blade to her throat, and her face pummeled and almost unrecognisable from the mask of blood.
His father's mutilated corpse tossed to the side like garbage.
Before he knew it, his teeth clenched—clenched so hard it felt as if they would break under the others pressure.
After all, how could we be anything other than monsters?
Are we truly to blame for who we are?
"I'lL—KILLLLL YOUUUUUU!"
Those words escaped his lips as he charged towards the man wielding flames before him, like a fool abandoning all common sense as his logic became blinded by rage.
Grrrkkk… Chhhhh—Krkkkk
Crash!
Before he knew it, he was bound to the scalding tiles of his once home, as its walls gave away and betrayed him.
But it almost seemed as if even the rubble suffocating him could only smother his body, but not his foolish desire to tear the men before him to shreds.
This world will eventually mold you, no matter how long, or how hard you persevere to fight against it.
He struggled—pulling debris after debris off of himself.
"I'LL KILL YOU, I'LL ABSOLUTELY KILLLL YOUUUUU!"
His voice echoed relentlessly.
His emotion unyielding.
His vision blurred by both the red of his blood, and red of his anger.
And as long as we will live in this accursed world,
"DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU SICK BASTARD!!!???"
"I'LL KILLLLLLLLLL YOUUUUUUUUU!!!"
He yelled out repeating himself as if he was in a drunken state—gaze piercing the red-eyed man towering over his dear mother–anger unrequited.
Then we must be nothing—but monsters.
That's something that's decided for us the moment we're born into this world, without any hope of becoming something more, something—greater..
His mother became unresponsive–skin glowing with bright flashes of orange..
Gkkk–Grk—-Gwekkk..
Splatter…
"She doesn't possess any atheris sir, neither did the father."
His jaw twitched with disbelief, unable to let anything else squeeze its way out of his smog-smothered throat.
"Then rid of the boy."
The red-eyed man ordered as he slowly turned his head–refusing to acknowledge the weight of his word.
and that's exactly why—this world—is so cruel.
Leith's eyes of blue became rid of the color of emotion, though illumination struck through the gap of his iris—a weak flicker of purple light.
He could hardly squirm any longer, as his limbs–now numb of all sensation prevented him from any further protest.
His jaw, still open, allowed for one final whisper to be heard,
a whisper that meant so much more in comparison to the intensity of its echo in the smoke-covered air.
"I'll—kill—you…"
The soldier ordered with finishing him off, took a large swing of his blade.
"Stop…–leave him."
The red-eyed man contradicted his own prior command, his look–one of disinterest yet still sharp, was cast upon the unconscious boy laying under the rubble.
As he dragged his large shroud of jet black after him, and exited the threshold of his own massacre, a single thought crossed his mind:
That look in his eyes..
No, it couldn't have just been one of fear, or anger… What was–that boy staring at when he made those remarks?