They knew many things. Too many things, in fact, depending on how you would view them. But, however, they were a quiet family who moved in from another village the year before the worst winter had hit in quite some time.

Everyone remembered that winter; nearly half the population of the village suffered from starvation. Mostly children were lost, which was unfortunate, mostly due to the drop in population. And with the drop of population, they had many people trying to produce more babies and crossed their fingers that when they grew to be at least eight, they would be willing to do the work that the ones who left would do.

And with women trying to birth more children, it only resulted in either more stillborns or dead mothers. Everything was going terribly wrong, and everyone was starting to become fearful.

Many people left, thinking the land was cursed, but a few decided to stay behind and wish for the best. And the family across the street was one.

The family had a son, about Peter's age, but he had passed away due to the famine, leaving them without children.

But when the village was finally ready to get help from another, they all decided to go to one of the village's wizard.

It was quite a sight! Seeing all the people gathered around Arthur, all asking for concoctions and spells to help them have strong, healthy sons or a beautiful, delicate daughters. Arthur couldn't possibly grant everyone all their wishes, but he tried, oh, did he try.

And so far, all his clients were pleased with the results that they were given.

All but one; those who live across the street.

One night, while Arthur was trying to keep his eyes open while the candle by his side flickered, he heard a harsh knock on his door.

Bang, bang

He opened the heavy wooden door, seeing his neighbor, Vladimir, welcoming him on this somewhat late night. He smiled at the stern face. "Oh! Hello, what brings you here?" He asked, standing in the doorway.

Vladimir was seemed to fuming; boiling with anger. Whatever did Arthur do?

"Elizabeth! She has fallen deathly ill because of your potion you've given her! I command you fix it at once!" He shouted, throwing his fists by his side, his face sharp and furious toward Arthur.

Arthur didn't know how to respond; was he sure it was his potion? Was he positive she drank the correct amount?

"It possibly could be another illness, I do tell you." He started, turning behind him. His head spun, questioning whether Peter had woken, seeing he wasn't there and begin to cry; to scream, even. " Have you had a priest come by to bless her? I think that would be in your favor, honestly."

"No!" Vladimir roared, shaking his head. " It's your problem; fix it!" He continued, the lion inside him obviously breaking through his throat to maul Arthur.

He quickly thought. "If I give you this," He said, dipping inside a bit, grabbing a container of a light purple water looking liquid was inside.

"Will you be happy?" Arthur snapped slightly.

"What is it?"

"Lavender liquid. I casted a spell over it. I use it whenever Peter is feeling ill. I'll hope and assume it works for you as well."

"Lets hope so." He snarled, snatching the jar out of his hands, walking back across the dirt road to bet back to his home.

And so, Arthur made his way back to Peter's room, seeing that he was, in fact, starting to wake up from his sleep.

"D-D-Daddy?" He whispered, hesitantly.

Arthur walked quickly toward him, hushing him while he rested his hand onto his forehead. "It's okay, I'm here." He said, pulling Peter out from the sheets, sitting him in his lap.

Peter's head rested on his father's shoulder while he rocked him, comforting him. "I'm always here."

X

A week passed, and Elizabeth had ended up dead. She had passed the moment the last drop of the lavender liquid went down her throat.

Vladimir still had anger and resentment bottled up in his heart with no idea how to inflict his vengeance on Arthur.

With lost eyes, Vladimir gazed out the window and saw Arthur and Peter walking into the main part of the village and only then is when he got the idea.

And with that, he pushed himself toward his wizard books, reading up on all the possible things he could do to cause him pain. Vladimir was a wizard, however, he was not as skilled as Arthur claimed he was.

But Vladimir has hard feelings; Arthur is a very talented wizard.

Searching through the books zealously, he slammed his finger onto the page, muttering something under his breath.

All he has to do is wait for night to fall so he could get revenge.

X

Peter was asleep, but Arthur must stay up a bit longer in order to insure he won't wake in the night. And as his thoughts began to cave in, the last piece of metal that impaled the yellow wax candle had fallen onto the metal dish, clanking to indicate that it was time for Arthur's slumber, he saw Peter rustle.

I must stay, Arthur thought, for he may be a waking up.

And so he did.

He began to doze off again, though; this time making his hand fall against the wooden table while his head fell with him. Arthur was asleep.

And with him being asleep, he couldn't see the red tinted shadow follow the doors in the house to trace them back to Peter's bedroom.

Once he found the two, Vladimir took no hesitation finding a body part of Arthur's he could escape into. He pushed his blond hair away from his pale cheek and zipped inside, causing him to awake.

He looked down, seeing that the candle was still burning. He could see Peter perfectly. The boy looked like his son, but slightly; not significantly. The way he slept and the way he smiled slightly in his sleep were pointers.

Vladimir then searched for something sharp. Anything will do, actually. And when he peered toward the fireplace, he grabbed a metal fire poker, seeing it's sharpness, deeming it worthy of the job ahead.

He took one more look at the figure, seeing his eyes were starting to open, but he didn't move. He must sleep with his eyes slightly open, Vladimir thought, raising the fire poker high.

But when Vladimir swung it down, he missed. He missed the torso area he wanted to hit, causing, hopefully, instant death. But much to his dismay, he had stabbed his thigh, causing him to jolt awake while a blood curdling scream accompanied.

"Ah! Daddy!" He shouted, tears falling from his blue eyes. "No!" He beseeched, feeling Vladimir take the metal out from his leg and clanked him against the head. But he was still alive.

And while the object continued to inflict more trama onto Peter, he soon found himself to shut his eyes while his bed sheets held him in his own pool of blood.

Before his eyes fully shut, he held his blue eyes with Arthur's green ones. Peter didn't think it was anyone else but his father doing this to him.

Once his body hit the bed sheet's one last time, Vladimir knew he had had enough.

X

The next morning, Arthur had woken up by the side of Peter. When his eyes saw the mess, he screamed.

"Peter!" He cried, oh did he cry. He was bawling while he held his mangled figure in his arms, watching as the thick blood dripped onto his skin. "Who would do this to you!?"

And all that day, Arthur tried his very best to summon his spirit. He called his name, he did spells, he cried, he shouted, he grew angry and more. But then, he remembered something; he was afraid of the dark.

But what he didn't know is that Peter will never come back to him. He is too afraid of him than anything the night can give to him.

Part two, coming soon