Hell Is For Children
Chapter One
He lay awake on the cold, damp floor. He stared blankly at the ceiling above, feeling empty, as he had for years, like a hole had opened up inside of him and swallowed his heart. He was used to it. His heartless feelings used to scare him those ten years ago, but not now… He was fifteen. He was a man. Although there had been no one to witness it, and the tradition was so old it was all but lost in time—at least to him—he had performed the Sheikain rite of passage that marked boys as men. He had pierced his ears, but he was clumsy, and he had no one to help him. The wounds had bled for two days, but nobody seemed to care.
He had been the youngest of his group, and yet he was one of the only two left alive. He had proved himself worthy, somehow, by training at being a thief and an assassin. His Shadow magic was particularly helpful, especially because he hadn't perfected his quiet escapes, and so he would vanish in a flash of blinding light, before anybody could see him. Because of this, his life was spared, but the others' weren't. The memories were burned painfully in his mind, and in his heart. He needed his mind to think and survive, and so he left his heart to the darkness, and, eventually, it vanished.
"…Aniki…?"
He turned towards the voice. The children were awake.
They were the newest group, the newest victims. They had only been a part of this for a month or so, and had yet to really know what was to happen. They clung to him, because he had experienced it. However, he was of a higher status, and was treated better than they. He, despite his missing heart, often found himself sneaking food for them, and had insisted on sleeping on the floor in the cold, dank room with them, instead of in the semi-decent bed he had been offered. And so, the children thought of him as their older brother. Aniki.
"Aniki?" the voice asked, "Are you awake?"
"…. Yeah…" he replied. It came out as more of a grunt, but his voice was gentle, as it usually was when talking to them. He could hear them moving. They were so quiet, but his years of being a thief and an assassin had heightened his senses, and so he could hear them easily.
"We can't sleep…" a second voice whispered.
"Can we sleep by you?" a third voice chimed.
"Sure," he said. Before he'd finished speaking, they were already snuggled up against him, pressed against his sides. He felt crowded, but he didn't mind. They were children. They needed affection, or they would turn out like him. Heartless.
He continued to stare at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the children breathing. They soon fell asleep. He could tell by the sound of their breathing.
"You know, you're so soft-hearted…"
He turned his head, staring at a shadow in the corner.
"Don't change at all," the shadow said, "The children need you. Don't become like me. I remember the look on your face during the 'Clearing'. Don't be like me and watch these children die without so much as shedding a tear…"
Silence soon filled the room again. The shadow was gone. He looked back up at the ceiling blankly. Soon, he closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
He had nightmares again.
'
"Thanks for watching him for me. I greatly appreciate it."
"Not a problem. He's such an adorable child. We're happy to look after him whenever you need us to."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks again."
Link took Keno's hand in his, bowing his head to Kinika once more before she closed the door. Keno pulled on his hand, grinning up at him. "Let's go, Daddy!"
"Calm down, Keno. We'll be home shortly." Link laughed softly as the five-year-old continued to tug at his hand, pulling him towards the house. He was mildly surprised at the strength his son had. Finally, he let go of his son's hand, letting the boy run ahead a few feet. Keno would stop occasionally, waiting for him to catch up before running ahead again, grinning as though he was having the time of his life. Link smiled happily, watching as Keno soon started running from person to person, chattering away eagerly. Link had tried to teach the boy the rule about not talking to strangers. The problem was that, for one thing, Keno was so hyper and energetic that he couldn't help but talk to everyone and they couldn't resist talking to him and, for another thing, they pretty much knew everyone in Kakariko, so there was nobody that could be considered a 'stranger.'
Once they reached the house, Keno hurried to the door. "Can I unlock it this time? Please?" he asked, looking up at his father and grinning. Link returned the smile. How could he resist the boy's charms? No one could.
"Sure," Link said, pulling out the key and handing it to him. Keno took it eagerly and went over to the door, having to stand on the balls of his feet to even reach the doorknob. He carefully pushed the key into the lock, turning it to the right until he heard it click. Then he pulled the key out and tried turning the knob. It wouldn't budge.
"Uh oh… I think I broke the door. It won't open." He looked up at his father, frowning slightly. Link shook his head, laughing softly.
"You didn't break it. You just turned the key the wrong way." He guided his son's hand, placing the key in the lock again, this time turning it to the left. Then, once the key was withdrawn, Keno turned the handle and pushed the door open.
"Yay! It works!" Keno exclaimed, throwing up his hands excitedly. Link laughed and took the key from his son, following the boy into the house, shutting and locking the door behind him. Link sighed, going straight to the fireplace, loading wood into it. People had said it was going to be a cold night. He stood up and grabbed the matches from the mantle above the fireplace, pulling out one. He struck the match against the hearth, listening to it hiss as the tip burst into flame. He then tossed it into the match onto the wood, watching as the wood slowly started to burn. Then, he closed the grate. The last thing he wanted was Keno falling into the fire.
Link sighed softly, standing up and going to a nearby chair, sitting down heavily. He closed his eyes, pulling off his cap and running one hand through his hair. It was hard raising Keno by himself, especially because he had to go to the castle often, sometimes not getting back until late at night. Keno's mother had died when he was only two, and Link was working as hard as he could to raise the boy on his own. The other villagers would help in what ways they could, often offering to look after Keno while he was at the castle. He felt bad leaving Keno all the time, but he really had no choice. It was his job, and he needed some way to support himself as well as his son.
"Daddy?"
Link turned his head slightly, seeing Keno standing in the doorway. "Yes, Keno?" he asked.
"I'm tired…" Keno said, rubbing his eyes, "I wanna go to bed…"
"All right." Link glanced out the window. It was getting really dark. It was probably almost eight-thirty. He grunted, rising to his feet. He then walked over to where Keno stood, picking the boy up and holding him close as he carried him to his bedroom. Keno wrapped his arms around his father's neck, closing his eyes as he rested his head on his shoulder. Link smiled, rubbing his back gently before setting him down on the bed.
"Did you enjoy staying with Kinika?" Link asked, going over to the dresser and opening the top drawer. He pulled out a pair of Keno's pajamas, closing the drawer and moving back towards the bed.
"Yeah," Keno said, nodding, "She told me lots of fun stories, and we had lunch. It was yummy."
"Did you eat dinner?" Link asked, lifting Keno's arms over his head while he pulled his son's shirt off.
"Uh huh," Keno replied, "That was yummy too."
"That's good." Link pulled the boy's pants off, replacing them with the bottoms of his pajamas. He then pulled the shirt on, helping Keno's arms through the sleeves. "There we go. Did you go to the bathroom already?"
"Uh huh," Keno replied, nodding.
"Good boy." Link tousled Keno's hair and the boy laughed, grabbing at his father's hand. Link smirked, pulling his son into a firm embrace. Keno returned it, squeezing his father as hard as he could in an attempt to surpass his father's strength. Suddenly Keno looked thoughtful, his gaze slowly going to his father's face.
"…Tell me again… what was Mommy like?"
Link tensed slightly, closing his eyes. He didn't like thinking… about her. He didn't want to forget about her, but he didn't like being reminded that she was dead. He had loved her. He still did. And he missed her terribly. However, Keno had every right to know what his mother had been like when she was alive.
"Well, for one, she was very smart, very wise. She knew what to do and say to make people feel better when they were sad…" Link said softly, pulling Keno into his lap, setting the boy on his knee, "…She always knew when you were crying, even in the middle of the night, and she always knew what was wrong. Everyone respected her… especially because of her love for you. Like with most any mother, she would throw herself in harm's way to save you. She actually proved it once or twice."
…In fact, that was how she'd died…
When Keno was three years old, he'd strayed away from his friends when playing, and none of the adults happened to see him as he wandered towards the graveyard. His mother knew immediately where he was, but she was too late in arriving. Keno had strayed near one of the graves and, somehow, had woken a Redead. He was already frozen by its scream, but it hadn't gotten him yet. His mother had wasted no time, immediately rushing forward to grab him, managing to pull him behind her, away from the Redead before its scream paralyzed her too.
Link had come home early that day. However, the moment he set foot inside the village, he was met by several panicked villagers, who could only tell him that something was wrong, that something had happened. He went straight to the graveyard… and…
…He would never forget what he saw that day…
His wife lay on the ground, all but covered in blood, collapsed over the body of their son. At the time, he thought they were both dead, and wasted no time in killing the Redead. When he went to move her body away from Keno, he discovered that the boy was unconscious, but luckily still alive. She'd shielded him, and at the cost of her own life. For two years, Keno lived thinking that she had died of illness. Later, though, when the boy was older, Link would tell him the truth. He just wasn't ready yet.
"…Daddy?"
Link started slightly, looking to Keno. He'd spaced out for a moment, lost in his thoughts and reflections, and Keno was sitting there, frowning at him, waiting for him to return to the 'real world.' Link smiled at his son, holding him close. Keno returned the embrace firmly before giving a loud yawn. Link laughed softly, picking Keno up off his knee and laying him down on the bed, pulling the blankets up under his chin.
"Time to sleep, Keno. I have tomorrow off, so we can go visit Auntie Malon at the ranch," he said softly, kissing the boy's forehead.
"Okay, Daddy," Keno said, giving him a tired smile before closing his eyes, turning onto his side and pulling the blankets tight around his body. "I love you, Daddy. Goodnight."
"I love you, too, Keno," Link said, patting the boy's head gently. He stood up, going to the door, stopping so he could turn and look at Keno again.
"…Goodnight."
Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda series copyrighted by Nintendo, Shigeru Miyamoto, etc etc. Only characters like Keno and the two unnamed characters at the beginning belong to me.
Author's Notes: I didn't really edit this, I just changed the title. And I tweaked it a little. After all this time, I finally found the perfect title in the form of a Pat Benetar song. It certainly fits. If you haven't heard it, use your Windows Media Player and search Hell Is For Children. You'll see what I mean. The official title to this story is Hell Is For Children. Hopefully THAT will attract some attention.
...Now let's see if I can finish chapter two...
