Honward Chapter 1
Introduction
Screams.
Blood.
It is all so familiar to me. I still have nightmares. Each and every night. They were murdered by someone, and it is my destiny to find out who- and why. All I remember of that fateful night is that eerie dark red color, stained across the family room's white carpet and floral wallpaper.
Uncle Bature, commonly called Mr. Bature, saved me from the evil killer. He says he was staying with my parents at the time. He went to bed, and then suddenly he heard my mother's screams. He came out to see the matter, then when he saw my parent's corpses, and got his pistol from the cabinet. He cautiously went into my nursery and locked the door. He saved me, but I don't believe a word he says.
Uncle Bature is a death scythe, thanks to his deceased partner, Itera. Sadly, she perished due to a disease I have never heard of before, which I don't believe either. He made me his miester, but it is so much more than that. He's also a Kishin. He makes me kill people for him to eat. He makes me kill people-innocent people, with families. I could never do that after my own family was killed. When I question his ways, he threatens me with cold-blooded death, so I must-must murder.
…
"Hon! Come here!" Uncle Bature interrupts my thoughts.
I yell from my bed, "Yes Uncle! Coming!"
I climb out of the large, clean bed, putting the slick silk sheets back in place. I dress formally as always, satin tie, silk-lined dress coat, black dress pants, white cotton polo shirt, and shiny black shoes. I tighten my tie and proceed down the stairs.
"It took you long enough, Honward! Never mind that, mutt! I have important news to tell you!" The man says, leaning back in the green wooden dining-room chair, scratching his gray whiskers on his shaved face.
I expected him to hit me as he usually did when I was late for meals or meetings, but I guess this is too important to waste time for that.
"We are moving to Japan! I hear there are a lot of souls running 'bout!"
"But Uncle! Japan is home of the DWMA! They hunt Kishins like you!" I exclaim.
"Don't worry! I'll just slaughter the lot of 'em!" Uncle laughs, chewing on his burning cigar.
"But, sir, Lord Death runs the school! We wouldn't stand a chance!" I continue.
"Son, remind me, who am I?" Uncle Bature wonders.
"The man who saved my soul from impending doom, that's who. I owe you my life," I mumble glumly, putting my right hand on my left shoulder.
"Yes, and if I want to move to Japan, no matter the risk, you must follow, correct?" He asks, enjoying me say the words.
"Correct."
"Well then, pack up, lad! We leave tomorrow!"
"What about the estate and furniture?" I ask in full seriousness.
"Forget 'bout it, son! Nuttin' here matters anymore, aye?" He chuckles, causing him to choke on cigar smoke and fall back in his chair.
I help him up and climb the stairs back to my bedroom. I can't help but to take one last look around before I pack.
The three suitcases are full to capacity with my valuables and clothes. I report to Uncle, and he whines, "That's too much, Hon, empty it, burn it, and get rid of it! Do you know how much air fare costs from U.K. to Japan?"
"No, but I'm sure you are going to tell me…" I whisper under my breath.
Bature ignores and answers himself, "A lot, son, a lot! One suit case for you!"
With out complaint, I obey and unpack everything. What should I keep? I guess I could dispose some of this unnecessary underwear; I would not be wetting myself anytime soon. I assume I could purchase clothing there, so no need for twenty pairs of the clothing I am wearing now. I must pack money, that's a necessity.
What shall I do with my valuables: that music box my grandfather made and gave to me the day before he perished, my mother's lyre she used to make me fall asleep when I was young, and my small stuffed rabbit that I used to be attached to when I was a baby. The music box is wooden, engraved with our family crest- red flames surrounding a shield with a phoenix on it, and on top of that shield was a golden crown. The crest has been in my family for generations. My mother's lyre is perfectly tuned, golden strings on a red wood base, on the back; there again is the family crest. That small stuffed rabbit was my favorite toy, so it is no longer that soft velvet or a bright purple. It has tears and loss of hair, but I love it still. I put them in the suit case, nestling them in between clothes so they don't damage. I close the suitcase and pick it up.
I can almost bet that Uncle has stuffed his bag with that stupid tobacco he likes. He even tried to get me 'in' on it, but I despise that horrid odor. I doubt they would let him on the plane. I can smell it from my room.
"Uncle Bature! I have sought out my items for travel. Can I assist you in any way?" I holler, still standing in my doorway, holding the gray travel case.
"I'll be fine, son!" He answers.
"That is unlikely…" I moan and plop down on the perfectly spread bed, letting out a deep sigh. Why did Uncle want to get to Japan so quickly? Does he have a death wish? If I was in charge, I would never allow it. Of course, though, that will never happen. What if the DWMA people catch us? I am confused of what to think. They could be friendly… what am I saying? They'll kill Uncle, meaning he will bring me down with him. Those students would kill me also; I am helping a Kishin, right?
"Why are you laying around, mutt? We have things to do!" Uncle Bature yells. I jerk and sit up, dazed. Was I asleep just now?
"Sorry, sir!" I apologize, standing up and brushing myself off. Uncle still looks angry.
"I'm gettin' tired of your crap, Honward! You need to act your age! You are too immature! Naps! Really, you wanted to catch a nap?" He booms, shocking me.
"Uncle, really! I'm sorry!" I continue, but it doesn't help, "I'm only twelve!"
"That's it, you get punishment!"
"No! Please!" I scream as he grabs my throat. I can't breathe, so I cough. Suddenly I can breathe, and I suck in a load of air. The man looks down on me, red eyes glaring.
"You worthless fool- no dinner for you!" Uncle roars, slamming and locking my door. My eyes are puffy and red, wet from tears. I hate when he gets like that. I was only sleeping, wasn't I?
I look down to see my mother's beautiful lyre, broken, shattered across the floor. What has he done? I can't help but cry.
This is just the pilot episode, and I want to say: I will not update until at least 2 people review. This is my blog: www. .com
Thanks and try reading my other soul eater fan fictions. I like using large words, so here is a little glossary type thing:
Eerie: strange and frightening
Satin: a glossy fabric
Whiskers: the hair stubs left after shaving, in this case, Uncle Bature's whiskers are on his face
Impending: about to happen
Estate: landed property, home and land
Lyre: a Greek musical instrument
Mutt: a dog, a mix of breeds
Jerk: to move suddenly