Michael squinted through the hole in the canvas wagon-side, but quickly wished he hadn't. There lie his mother, eyes wide and glassy as the crimson flowed from her head, and beside her the soldier that had thrown her hard upon the stones. The sight of her tore him apart but he couldn't bring himself to look away, until the soldiers returned. A fire burned inside the boy when he saw the soldier take a seat in the wagon, hands stained with blood. Her blood. Little fists balled and shook against the chains, he wasn't the only one. Two other boys, just about his age were shaking with tears in their eyes. One was taller with bright red hair, the other dark holding something in his hands. A loud crackle came from behind them as the wagon shook and began to move on. Through the hole he saw his house in flames, fire eating away at the place her grew up and the woman who raised him. She was the only one he had left Was.
Rage grew in the child, "You killed her-" He said quietly. Slowly it built and built, a pain nearly unbearable in the boy's chest. "You killed her-!" Suddenly he pounced on the soldier across from him. "YOU KILLED HER!" His nails scratched at his face and ripped his neck, blood spilling onto Michaels face. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS! DO YOU HEAR ME!"
The other men grabbed at him, trying to pry him off their companion. The two boys looked on in terror.
"I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING HEART OUT AND WATCH YOU DIE!" His fists threw blows to the face, "I'LL LAUGH AT YOUR DEATH AND PISS ON YOUR FUCKING GRAVE! I SWEAR TO-"
BAM!
The boy lay on the floor of the wagon, his head warm and sticky. When he opened his eyes there was a blade aimed at his throat, forcing him to stay down for even the slightest move would be his end.
X X X
The men took them to a group of buildings surrounded by a wall, like a city. One by one they were forced out, Michael having to be held down by two soldiers. The boys saw that they weren't the only ones. Hundreds of young boys, beaten and bloody the whole lot, were chained and gathered there. All were too frightened to speak, but a low murmur of whispers fell between them. But then, the semi-silence was broken by footsteps. Heads turned to what looked like a giant platform, all green and black.
And there he was.
His face was cruel in the harsh torch light. Rugged and tall, he stood regally, like a wolf staring down its prey. The man wore a cape and a kilt with a long blade strapped to the side; dual edged, shining in an impossible way. It wasn't steel, or iron, or anything Michael had ever seen.
"Diamond!?" gasped the boy beside him.
The cape was a piercing red, lined with a black fur, and resting upon his head a crown; golden like the sun, studded with jewels. However they did not have the beauty of gems. Though they shined like perfection, they seemed like a trophy of the hunt. Merely a dead thing on the wall, lining the crown of the king
They waited in anticipation, wondering what the king would say, but it never came. He merely grinned and turned to walk away.
"WAIT!" a voice pushed through the crowd as a boy, pale as the moon, darted out of guard's reach and leaped onto the platform. Only steps from the king. There he barked, "How dare you walk away from us! Not even saying a goddamn thing after what I'm guessing you did! Why did you bring us here?!"
Soldiers climbed up to detain him but the golden haired king held a hand out. A clear gesture to halt. He turned to face the lad, a grin laid upon his face almost kindly. With each step he took, the more the daring child puffed out his chest. Like a cat, trying to appear more threatening to a predator.
Suddenly the king brought down his hand, slapping the child with such force he flew back landing square on his back. He then chuckled and turned back to leave. This time, no one dared to speak. But a clear voice echoed from the menace, his tone sinister and teasing.
"Welcome to Achievement City."
Once the king had left, the soldiers assigned them to the barracks lining the city. Each could house about twenty boys, but Michael did not join them. Instead they carried him away from the rest to a small shack. It was empty except for a trap door in the corner floor. They forced him down and shut him in. It lead to a room much larger than the shack, obviously underground. Inside was nothing but a long line of hay-stuffed sacks, some cotton blankets and a torch burning on the wall. The black walls were covered in scratch marks that appeared to spell out something but the torchlight wasn't even close to sufficient. But before he could think, the trapdoor above opened once more and down came three boys that fell with a sickening thud. Two were the red headed boy and dark boy from the wagon, and the third the boy that questioned the king.
The last called back to the shut door with a frustrated anger, "You get back here! I'll fucking FIGHT YOU!" But he didn't last, and just kicked one of the hay-sacks and sat on it.
They four looked at each other with eyes that questioned but didn't have the energy to care. Their silence persisted, until the red haired one sat on the sack with the other. He let his head fall, not looking at the other.
"That was really brave…what you did up there."
Michael scoffed, "Yeah, brave but stupid as ever."
"You shut up!" came the voice of the dark boy in the corner, still cradling something in his hands. "You're the one who attacked that soldier. Did you really think you could take him out?" Michael stayed silent. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He wiped away some tears left over, "…but that was brave too, I guess."
They all met eyes, no longer wide with fear. The red haired one opened his mouth to speak but they were suddenly met by a sharp scream crying out. The door opened once more and a small boy fell, weeping like a banshee and covered in both blood and tears. He curled into a ball where he dropped and cried, no one daring to speak. After what felt like forever, the little one began to come down. A gentle hand reached and touched his shoulder, giving him a jump.
"Hey, it's okay. We're not going to hurt you."
He looked up at the voice, meeting Michael's eyes. "What's your name?"
He hiccupped a bit, trying to compose himself, "G-Gavin-"
They noticed he had an accent. "Well, my name's Michael."
"I'm Jack." The red haired boy came forward and took Gavin's hand to pull him up. He was incredibly skinny, like a skeleton. Jack turned to the boy on the sack who just sighed, and gave up trying to look tough.
"I'm Geoff."
"Ray." Came the voice from the corner.
"Did they raid your home too?" Asked jack.
Gavin nodded, "My mum and dad were inside, so they locked them in and set it on fire." Tears welled up in his greenish-blue eyes, "My brother and I-" He broke into tears once more, clinging to Michael's shirt. "Th-they tried to take my brother away-b-but he wouldn't let go-o of me-" he gasped trying to catch his breath. "-so they- they got angry a-and he slashed my brothers arm-"
Ray turned his head. He knew what happened after. He saw it. He saw the men try to take the two boys to different barracks, but they held onto each other. They were down to one hand but they held on. Ray remembered the sound the boys arm made when he watched it pull out of socket. One soldier grew impatient and unsheathed his sword and swung. There were a disgusting slash and a scream of agony, for Gavin was holding onto his brothers severed hand. The stump wrist was oozing blood and they dropped him to the floor, the lad curling up in the red puddle. The man with his sword then looked over him and said something they would never forget.
"-'If you can't fight you don't deserve to live'!" The frail boy sobbed against the others chest, "—a-and he killed him!" His thin body shook violently, "They killed my brother-right in front of me-"
Michael put his arms around him, knowing exactly how he felt. "It's gonna' be okay, Gavin." Inside, Michael was like a stone, unfeeling, but this child needed someone. When they killed his mother he wanted to break down, but he couldn't. All he had was his rage when really he wanted someone to hold onto. Someone to tell him it was going to be okay. So right now he was going to be that person.
"You're gonna be okay, Gavin." There was a pause as he thought over the words he never imagined saying. "I'm your brother now, and I won't let go. I promise."
Ray came out of the corner, and put a hand on Gavin's shoulder. "I promise, too." In the other hand he revealed what he cradled; an ashy rose head, the stem probably lost but his hands were non the less punctured all over from thorns. "You guys can count on me." He tossed a look to the others. Jack nodded.
"I'm with you guys-" Geoff rang, "But I'm nobody's brother."
They couldn't help but smirk.
