It turns out that the policeman sent Honani down to another nurse where. She took all his measurements, and deemed him healthy, although some psychologist questioned his mental state of mind after the 'murder' as they are calling it; they had to do a couple more tests. To Honani it was nothing short of a nightmare, they took him to a really bight white room where there were a collection of toys and objected where the psychologists took his reactions down. They were ridiculous to be honest, adults making nothing but fools of themselves in a hope of discovering some sort of abnormality they would gladly write down and study somewhere. Many of these people were trying to get discovered in the psychological world, so they could be more recognised in their studies… To Honani, they looked desperate.
"Clap, Clap" An old woman said, "Clap, Clap" The old woman was hunched over clapping whilst plastering a huge smile on her face which was as fake as plastic flowers. Honani looked at her with a face which could only be described as "What, in the name of Badgers, are you doing?" They kept this up for about a week, which by this time did multiple things. It caused Honani to become infamous as the baby who survived the murder. It caused rumours to work full time on Honani's situation. It caused Honani to become extremely bored. The only thing the psychologist's managed to find were a fast reaction time, strong bones and muscles, and his growth being at a rapid speed. All of which were not of useful information. So they concluded he was fine and just needed a loving, understanding home.
Or that was what they said.
That was where his problems came, in a world slowly becoming nothing more than ruins due to the war; he had little option but to go to a foster home, then if no... When things got bad enough with this family, it was planned that he would be sent to an orphanage. His new foster parents were not the best. Strict Catholics with a hatred for anything different, it was bound to end up badly. Even the dumbest child, would have an inkling of a bad feeling about this. Loving home, if this was a loving home Honan had been turned into a Selkie-which might have been a better life. Honani ended up staying there for a few years, until something… Strange happened…
His parents were almost polar opposites, his father was bulky, unhealthy and his skin seemed to have a layer of sweat or grease permanently covering his body. His new mother had black hair and piercing blue eyes, examining him constantly for any sign of a flaw; she had a horribly pointed face and had a settled glare on her features. His father however, had very little ginger hair and always wore a black torn up suit; he also wore a very disturbing bowler's hat which apparently made him more 'classy'. In all honesty it made him look more foolish. His eyes were an almost beady like some sort of rodent although if one were to stare at them long enough, it felt almost as if they were killing you through sight.
At six years old, Honani looked like an odd one out of the family. He was small, he had gentle black hair which was a bit scruffy and seemed to come alive during windy days, as it had seen cases of latching onto people or items. His eyes were of a forest green nothing really significant however, would darken to almost a black colour when he was angry and during any happy experience they turned a bright yellow for a moment or two before dulling into an unsuspicious lime colour. He was almost glad he ended up like this, as his previous body was almost an exact duplicate, and trying not to sound too snobby liked the way he looked and was slightly glad some other soul hadn't messed this body up.
However his parents often would. His foster parents resented Honani with every fibre of their being, as they were meant to drop out of the foster system but got dumped with young Honani before they had the chance. His parent's were called Kapela Duncan and Douglas Duncan. Douglas was often out and apparently was prone to brag about his middle class life. Kapela on the other hand was the opposite and stayed mostly indoors, making food for her husband, boasting to the neighbours, and forcing Honani into work. Kapela never touched the garden and proclaimed it to be Honani's job to sort it out. It was for lack of any describable word which could be put to better use, an overgrown jungle, plucked straight from the rainforest... The deepest, darkest, deathliest part of the rainforest, forget monkeys and rainbows and colourful plants, its talking darkness, dead branches, a man eating jaguar or two, with vines which look unnervingly like devils snare. Honani's ration side was in shock while his bloodthirsty side was singing in joy.
Honani had fallen in love with this garden.
At this point, Honani was six, and saying he was treated like a house elf would be an understatement, a BIG understatement.
There had been a time when Honani was terrified. He was utterly filled with fear. He was so frightened he couldn't sleep for days after. He couldn't handle what happened to him.
The cause of the fear is simple... Douglas, being the 'overworked' man he was came home drunk. Kapela knew this and for once left the house for the Douglas hurricane to pass out on the chair in the lounge.
No warning for Honani mother, nothing why thank you.
Calling Honani beautiful would be another understatement, there were at times when 'friends' of Kapela and Douglas would spot Honani in the Garden, under the sun, watching the butterflies, lying in the grass, looking so peaceful "like an angel", they claimed, to which, Douglas and Kapela would, agree albeit slightly put off on their view of the boy.
To his parent's Honani was too feminine, he had wide eyes, almost like a doe caught in headlights when pulled from his day dream, which was nothing more than communicating with Mother Earth. He had messy hair which looked more like recently shagged to his parent's disgust but to others, was just another sign of how it framed his face into a heart shape. His lips were pink and were soft and plump, and to those who looked at him, they believed they would taste fruity also, what preference of fruit was up to them. Then his skin, this skin and his eyes were his best features apparently, his skin was so smooth and soft, but it was pale, like strawberry milk, pale yet had a delicate healthy pink tint to it, which made it all the more wanton to taste. No one voiced these opinions of the boy with each other, as they weren't meant to think of such a delicate, young innocent boy that way, so were partly ashamed, but everyone knew about this delicate boy, that which everyone craved, everyone knew everyone's thoughts as they had often seen people staring, or people catching them staring.
Even Honani knew. So he would only give his heart to that which deserved it. Along with his heart, of course came his body.
So when Douglas stumbled through that doorway, into the hall, past the disgusting, pruning royal red wall paper, and the small cupboard which of course became Honani's room although he lived outside. His parent's didn't care, there was a rule, "get cleaned up for when the officers come, and stay in the room upstairs beforehand, and you can stay in the garden for as long as you like".
Unless it's raining.
As Douglas stumbled through the open door dripping wet from the rain and lay his eyes on the boy, stood beside the back door looking at the outside garden which he gazed so longing, to the monstrous man before him. Honani felt his blood freeze. His eyes widened as the hungry smirk made its way onto his foster father's face, pinning himself to the door in a useless attempt to get even further away before hastily fumbling for the door handle.
Noting the movement, Douglas thundered forward with shocking speed and grabbed both hands holding them both above his head in one huge meaty hand. Honani's eyes widened in fear, at that moment, he felt his entire world slow down. Honani would be lying if he said he didn't feel so utterly lost and helpless at that moment. Maybe that's what spurred his foster father on. The doe like eyes widen further, the skin pale from his cheeks and his lips part in hyperventilating gasps of shock, confusion and refusal. Maybe it was the thought of finally breaking Honani, or watching the young boy writhe under him, fulfilling the neighbourhood fantasy. That's when Honani felt it, the giant hand sliding down his side, down curving towards his lower back like a curious constrictor that pretended it wasn't going to twist the last breath of air out of him; before in mock gentleness dipping lower. Honani's eyes widened as the whites of his eyes showed his fear, he did not want this...He didn't want this… Honani pleaded for anything to help him at that moment…
However this moment was not a forgettable one, by neither party, because at that moment, Honani's eyes went pitch black and he glared at the man whose smirk faltered at the sight of the boy.
From under the door a black vine which matched Honani's eyes made its way up Honani's leg, the vine froze and reared sensing the hand. The end of the vine shot open a bright neon yellow flower, which inside had a number of flame-orange darts with the ends tinted a toxic purple. Hissing the vine shot the darts which all struck the large meaty hand.
Douglas gasped, and his face paled.
The darts began to lace a special toxic through his blood stream, like dye, the veins stood out from under the fat of his body, causing root like patterns to form over his body. If Honani could be honest, his foster father looked like a walking scribble man from afar.
Douglas then made like a log and fell, releasing Honani and removing his hands from a place no one indecent will ever touch again.
Honani's six year old eyes flashed back to green as he ran, through the house, pulling open his cupboard and locking himself in. Honani felt a familiar vine crawl its way up its leg and settle on his shoulder. Honani now calmer than before identified the hissing vine which clung to him in a mock of a hug.
A Viper Vine, not really a snake, yet not really a vine, but had the killing qualities of both. Honani lifted his hand and the snake-vine slithered on and curled it way around Honani's soft hand, comforting him. Honani hoped this life would be better and that he would have more friends looks like he found his first one, a viper vine called Mahi.
Despite being sexually assaulted and the rain, this was quite a productive day Honani thought, smiling.
He soothed the vine and studied it, whilst wondering whether his father was dead.
Sadly no… the poison just stunned him into an unconscious sleep, nothing more… If Honani really wanted to kill his foster father, it would include, blood, gore, plants and Mahi… and maybe the creative use of a hatchet and some dental floss … After all if you wish to make a painting of blood, make it a creative masterpiece, and use your imagination… Imagining the blood, gore and intestines Honani felt his deadly side sing… It gently soothed him… It calmed him… It rocked him slowly to sleep with the picture of thick crimson water bathing the world…
Honani fell asleep… But his bloodthirsty side kept singing…
The melody slowed and gently stopped with a final tone.
A black substance which wasn't quite gas and wasn't quite liquid rose from Honani's mouth. It formed a gentle silhouette, a twin, a mirror image of Honani himself… It looked around the shall cupboard, there was nothing but a small mattress which looked suspiciously like it had been torn out of an old babies cot… The shadows demeanour grew that much darker as it took in the state of its blood thirsty host…
This just wouldn't do…
If the shadow had any features, even a fruit fly would have seen the evil, demented, twisted gleeful grin which etched its way onto its face… The silhouette would take action now; it was his time to shine…
The shadow vanished without a trace but there were odd sounds coming from the house, neighbours claimed to hear screams of demon, throughout the night, and sounds of knives scraping one another as if preparing for a carving or something.
But the neighbours also didn't forget to mention the storm Kapela screeched when she returned. They were quickly silenced.
When dawn arose, the police were all over the property attempting to decipher the complex markings written in blood upon the no longer pruning royal red wallpaper, or figure out how the family was murdered, Honani included…
Until he woke up that is…
Honani blinked confused… He felt as though something or someone had hit him around the head with a metal bar of some sort. He was very confused. Until he smelt the crimson liquid, that is. His face remained composed, although his bloodthirsty side was grinning enthusiastically. Honani then knew what had happened. He didn't expect it to but he didn't mind either. He just knew that if he spent anymore time in the cupboard, he would kill something… Horrifically. Without. A. Hint. Of. Mercy.
Honani stood and almost fell once again, never in his two lives had he felt so drained. But he had to go on. He stood, albeit swaying, and pounded on the door. Mahi curled up tighter around Honani under his shirt to avoid detection and to help keep balance. There were shrieks of fear, and disbelief, as he heard the lock from outside, slide through the rusting metal, until it was no longer hatched thus causing the door to slide open slowly. A policeman stood on the other side baton rose until his eyes widened in disbelief causing him to drop it in surprise and he call to his team mates. The policeman he noticed was the same one that collected him from the hospital, all those years ago.
Feeling light headed Honani called out,
"Help…" ever so weakly before he fell forward into the policeman's shocked arms. Honani felt himself being lifted, causing his head to roll back, cracking open an eye, what he saw caused him to smile inwardly.
His Foster family laid ripped apart limb from limb, with intestines criss-crossing over the ceiling like Christmas decorations his mother set up one time. A heart stood sliced on the over head lamp and was hanging by the heart strings which looked mangled, the heart itself looked mangled… A sign of pure torture was subjected to the owner of this heart. Blood coated the carpet, the furniture, the kitchen. The only area that wasn't soaked in the delicious liquid was the cupboard which Honani was hidden. The black remains of a lung were placed onto the kitchen table, how Honani would have to ask later. The policeman carried Honani past the hall toward the front door. This past in front of a table covered in blood, it no longer looked like a table more like a swimming pool of blood and within was a paint brush which was used to scar upon the wall. The wall contained a mixture of multiple runes which stated clearly too any magical person "If you cause the black to be, your soul shall never be free" Of course not every magical person could read this, only the truly strong and powerful could decipher the demonic meaning…
Honani smirked… This was a true masterpiece… None of the police noticed this smirk, or that Honani fell unconscious after this. They didn't even notice the two smashed dishes of two muggles, a male and a female, who were screaming in eternal agony.
Honani grinned inwardly, a masterpiece in deed.
Like holy crap! Sorry for the long wait, I have my psychology exams in a week and my evil English to complete, as well as attempting another side story of me and my friends at school, but I did take my time and this is the result
-Well next chapter Honani might go to Tom's orphanage… We haven't decided so please review your choice, it will help us.-
Also we currently do not have a Beta, so if anyone wants the part feel free to message me ;)
Ok so if you could be, as awesome as Mahi and review it would be great. Also special thanks to RoGueSurfer, alexandra101, rentamiya, and History! Your reviews helped my muse to appear :D
-Our Muse likes to write apparently, so keep reviewing -