Spark of Darkness 4
Chapter four – Don't get Caught
He woke up to darkness, having slept through the whole day without anyone finding him.
There was shouting. There was screaming. He could hear people crying, and he could see people dying. Torches moved through the streets, casting shadows onto the walls. He tried to close his eyes, but the images burned their way into his head, the screams didn't have to replay themselves because they were still screaming.
That was the apple man, he thought faintly. From this morning. He shouted at me for taking one.
That was the old man who told the children stories from the big cities. He'd been an entertainer before he came here.
Akeifa scrambled out of his hiding hole, knowing that no matter how good it was, it wouldn't help him if he was spotted.
That was – oh, Ra! That was -! But he knew that praying to Ra would do no good. It was night time, and Ra had been eaten by Nut. Ra would not be able to help him until morning. Anubis, take care of my friend in the afterlife-
He peered out from his spot and wished he hadn't. The troops from the news the scouts had told Father were killing people every way he looked. People he knew.
The Village of Kul Elna had only had one hundred inhabitants. As such, everyone knew each other. Through the generations since the town had become a den of thieves, very few people weren't related in some way or other, however far back in the family tree. They mostly kept themselves to themselves, and even the children had hardly any friends or acquaintances out of town. It wasn't a place that tourists went, and travellers were often robbed well before they ever got too close. No one was away because they had all been concerned about the troops they'd seen coming towards the village. They'd stayed in case they might have been caught out alone. And now they were being slaughtered.
Akeifa stepped back, tripped, squeaked from the fall. He made an effort to hide himself quickly before he was found by the next platoon.
"Damn thieves!" One was laughing as he killed one of Akeifa's older friends.
"Cursed Tomb Robbers!" another growled. "Their lives are worth more dead, serving their country with their blood!"
One boy, just into his manhood, saw him. His eyes widened. His mouth opened and he started to yell something, but was cut off before he could finish.
Akeifa tried to run. He wanted to. Brother! His mind kept crying out. That was my brother! Brothers were supposed to protect each other. But what happened when brothers couldn't protect each other? I can't do anything, he wept. Anything. If brother couldn't do anything, I can't. He was still trying to run when he found himself blocked off again, with people running away from the soldiers every which way. He ran back the way he'd come, only to trip on a fallen beam that had come down with the fires. He didn't even notice when he scraped his knee, only focused on surviving the night.
He heard someone shout in the distance, screaming for their boy. His throat stuck. Father!
"Bakura! My boy! My Bakura! Where is he? Where's my boy, damn you?!"
Akeifa opened his mouth, but what came out was a silent, hoarse, scream. Father! Father! Mother!
He couldn't let himself be found. He just couldn't.
"Bakura!"
Can't get caught can't get caught can't get caught-
His father's shouts stopped.
He still couldn't cry.
Mother!?
He couldn't hear her.
Mother had gone to the outer edge of town, today, he remembered with an odd feeling of detachment. I probably never even was awake yet when she died.
For some reason, his stomach had stopped feeling like it wanted to throw everything up. There was a strange feeling in him; as if none of this was real, none of it was really happening, as if he'd just wake up tomorrow and it would all have been a really, really bad nightmare. As if he was just living in something that was happening around him, but didn't actually affect him. It was cold.
And now they were doing something else. Something that even he, as the son of a Grave Robber, was uncomfortable with, not least because it was the bodies of people he knew.
They were taking away the bodies. Moving them. Not just touching them but carrying them. All to a certain place.
To the centre of town.
And as they moved the bodies, one white-haired little boy followed after, still making sure that he wasn't caught.
. . .and blood. . .