leelath

Part 1

It was a misty day. Not at all the weather you would’ve picked to celebrate a wedding. A bunch of little children –approximately four, maybe five years old- was running and playing around a beautiful black and white ornate carriage, giggling loudly and pointing at the beautiful horses, while the union between two beloveds was held inside the massive baroque church. A tall man, dressed in an elegant black suit and red tie was keeping a close watch on the group of Lilliputians, when suddenly his superior called him through his earpiece.

As fast as humanly possible, he abandoned his post and ran towards the location of interest, startled when his superior greeted him with a smile. False alert. He could return to his watch.

When he walked down the church steps however, his blood stilled in his veins, as it was eerily quiet. The ornate carriage stood lonely, the wind brushing along fallen leaves around it. He stealthily walked closer, his eyes traveling from one direction to the other, staying alert, ears sharp. He watched the border of the adjacent forest, suspicion evident on his handsome face. Reaching the carriage, his hand slowly made its way to the handle, the click of the lock seeming to reverberate across the now oddly silent street. He stilled instantly though, when he heard faint shouts through his earpiece. Confusion washed over him as he wondered what could have possibly happened in the little time it took him to leave the church.

There was no time to think about it, as the shouts were getting louder, but strangely fewer. He ran back up the steps, taking three at a time. Not bothering about using the back door this time, too much in a hurry, he pushed open the gigantic wooden doors.

Time seemed to have stopped. His eyes fell onto nothing less than a slaughter. Guests were lying lifeless all over the cold marble tiles, blood staining expensive dresses, tailored suits, extravagant hats. White roses, teared crimson, led the way to the altar, where the priest hung over his bible like a rag doll, a red trail escaping the gaping hole between his eyes. The bride and groom in front of him were lying next to each other, bloodshot eyes wide open, shiny bands of gold twinkling mockingly from their entwined hands.

The man heard a noise and turned to see a crouched eight year old boy shuffling between to oak benches. The latter hushed him at once when the older man walked toward him in concern, shoes slipping loudly on the red stained marble. Too late.

A quiet swoosh was heard, and the man’s corpse fell to the floor with a sickening thud. The boy ducked down, tears streaming down his face, hand held against his own mouth to keep his whimpers quiet. He froze when footsteps came closer. His gaze traveled up and down the alley, trying to make out where the sound came from so he could escape the other way. His eyes fell back onto the tall man’s corpse, a gun holster peeping from under said man’s suit jacket. Taking a deep breath, he ran as fast as his legs could take him, lunging towards the man’s side, taking hold of the cold metal object. It was heavier than he had anticipated. He heard a low chuckle behind him, and turned quickly on the spot, struggling to raise the gun to eye-level, hip-level for the buff man who was looking down at him, a nasty smile gracing his rough lips. He himself was carrying a gun in his left hand, effectively equipped with a silencer, now pointed right at the boy's head. The assassin's attention was briefly attracted away from the innocent big brown eyes of his victim when he heard the creaking of wood. It only lasted a split second, but it was the last mistake he would ever make. The boy pulled the trigger, the bullet searing out of the barrel, pulverizing the man's Adam's apple and ending it's course in the huge golden cross behind the altar. His eyes bulging with pain, blood was gushing out of the man's throat and mouth, and he soon fell to his knees, his hand desperately clutching his throat. Finally, his lifeless body fell back into its own familiar puddle of blood.

It took the boy 5 whole minutes to get his wits back together, and when he did, he hastily got to his feet, gun still in his hands. He ran out of the oak doors, stumbling down the church steps, almost bumping into the magnificent horse-pulled carriage. He was about to turn away, when he heard soft sobbing, seemingly coming out of the ornate vehicle. Clutching the gun tighter in his fist, he carefully opened the side door. One of the smaller children, a five year old boy, was crying in a corner, his eyes squinting at the sudden light flowing into his hiding place.

The older boy held out his hand, silently beckoning the other out of the vehicle. The child, reluctant at first, jumped into the eldest's arms and held onto him for dear life.

"It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay."

He patted the little boy's hair, and carried him into the forest.

They seemed to have been walking for hours. He had put down the boy a long while ago, unable to carry the chubby 5 year-old further.
The already dim forest grew darker as the day came to and end. He tripped over a tree root and fell face first onto the muddy ground, right beside a wide dense bush. Exhaustion taking it's toll on the young boy, he refused to stand up again and sighed heavily. The little boy, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists, curled up beside him. Only a few seconds later, he heard a quiet snore, and with a faint smile he wove an arm around the younger.

Little did he know that this was the last time he would see the boy, in a very long time.