Five Years Later: 11:59 PM
The world outside is silent. The skies rained down flecks of white onto the dark streets. The wind danced and stirred the white around in circles, pushing and pulling at a young boy hanging from a tree. His flesh is pale and blue, freezing to the touch. His eyes are closed, lips and toes and fingers the lightest of blues. His glasses were broken sideways, his hair falling around his shoulders, meshed together and breaking with the wind. His name was Jared, or had been Jared until the Evans Manor killed him.
From a lone window, far above the dancing snow and the swinging boy, sat another boy with snow white hair and vacant red eyes. He watched Jared swinging, watched the snow cover the ground and the roofs in pure white. He sat counting down the time as he waited for twelve to strike, waited until he was five.
Soul Eater Evans sighed and leaned down against his knees, hair brushing his knuckles and breathe fogging up the cool glass. His long, white night gown covered his feet as they curled around the cushion he sat on. He hears in the background of his slowly dying mind that a clock was chiming away the seconds until twelve.
"One…" He breathed, voice soft and childish." Two…Three…Four…"
He counted and counted until the final stroke of twelve hit and he grinned, shark teeth flashing as his birthday ring clear in his mind, naming him five officially. He jumped down from his perch and trots to the door and opens it, running out and into the hallway and down the old, creaking stairs. His mind was racing, his heart was beating faster and faster as he stormed into the room of his parents. They were expecting him and they grinned, the doll mother grabbing her child and picking him up into her smooth and hard arms.
"I am five." He beams, eyes bright.
His mother grins and his father looks at him with hard eyes. "You are, my darling child, but…" The child's heart sank and fear came. "What have you shown."
"Traits of the vermin." He whispered, eyes prickling with unshed tears.
His mother coos at her child, stroking his crazed hair. "Yes and what will happen when this happens?"
He looks at her with blank eyes as his heart pounded with fear. "Pain."
"That's right!" She presses her nose against her child's, rubbing it with her own. "That is right."
His mother hands him over to his father and Soul tries to turn away, to get away from him, but he is caught and is dragged into the secret room. Soul is stripped and the cuts and bumps of healing wounds shown bright in the light. He is thrown to the ground, his naked body folding into itself as his father closes and locks the door, grabbing the whip to his left with its freshly sharpened blades at the end.
"You will be punished," And Soul's screams go un heard as his blood paints the walls of his parents Play Room.
