Shadowthread
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A laicar child walked with high steps along the bustling city streets. On her forehead, a beautiful hairclip made sure that her long blond hair flowed freely behind her and did not get in her yellow eyes. She wore a dress with a floral pattern, occasionally turning to look behind her. Almost immediately behind her was the figure of a laicar female, who wore a deep sand colored hood and robe, concealing most details of her, except the long blond hair that crept from underneath.
”I want something sweet, ” she said to nobody in particular and raised her gaze towards the female behind her, stoic in her demeanor, the stillness in her figure remarkable. And so clearly having gotten approval in her mind, the kid walked to a nearest street stall.
”How may I help you two?” the salesman behind the stall inquired when he saw them approaching.
”Umm, hi!” Beatrice said shyly and pointed to a small candy bag that was hung on display, ”That one,” she paused, ”I want that one, mother,” finishing quietly. Her mother said nothing, but simply laid some coins to the counter, her arms completely bandaged up. Beatrice smiled to the shopkeep and reached in and took the candy bag and began to turn away with her spoils.
”Miss, a-are you alright?” the salesman managed to ask from them his question clearly directed at the mother.
”Don't talk to my mother like that! She cannot speak!” Beatrice lashed out, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. The salesman visibly reeled back in shock. The small child turned away and walked off, leaving the stall and its keeper flabbergasted. A small crowd had turned their attention to see this conflict as Beatrice had raised her voice quite considerably. It was only then that he smelled it. A stench of death, although muffled with cloth and perfume had lingered in the area for a while. The realization amplified the salesman's already terrified expression even further and he stammered to himself,
”What in the world?” his eyes trailing the young laicar far longer than what was reasonable.
Meanwhile Beatrice happily chewed on her brand new candy as they traveled home, a perfectly average house in a decent neighbourhood. It had two distinct rooms with a kitchen, maybe a bit crampy for a family of four. A double bed was situated in one of the rooms, while two normal sized beds were in the other, one of the beds showing clear signs of use and that was Beatrice's. Scattered about in the house were countless rolls of various sand colored fabrics, jars and vials with all color of liquids were set on a nearby table, with some unclear labeling. On the walls, you could barely see some dried red splotches.
Stepping in and over a body lying at the doorstep, Beatrice sighed and looked at it for a long while.
”Father, how many times do I have to tell you not to sleep in front of the door?” she finished the lecture and kicked it as if to enforce her point, her father responding with an audible grunt, it slowly raised up from its resting place. He was also covered in bandages, though not nearly as beautifully as mother was, whoever had bandaged him up had shown less care than the meticulous care shown to the female corpse.
On the kitchen table was a pile of letters from various places. She had been just throwing them onto a careless stack as they had arrived, each of them unopened. Feeling quite hungry even though she had snacked on candy on her way back, Beatrice headed to the kitchen and checked the fridge for any leftovers, there was some meat stew, she grabbed a spoon from nearby and sat down on the floor to eat her dinner.
”Is it good?” A voice asked from behind her, Beatrice turned to her mother with a smile and nodded. Her mother, in her early thirties, had flawless skin and her long hair the most beautiful that she had ever seen.
”Can I grow to be as beautiful as you are, mother?” Beatrice asked with eyes full of awe. Theresa simply laughed at her child's question, ”Of course my dear, of course,” as they chatted away they could hear the door opening. ”Ah, your father must be home, I will be back in a moment,” her mother explained and rose from the table to go and see him.
Titus was what most would consider a handsome man in his late thirties. His body was well toned from working in carpentry, his hair was kept short, almost militaristic in style along with a small goatee. Hanging his jacket on the coat rack, Theresa hugged him tightly.
”Welcome home, dear,” wiping off some of the grease that was present on his chin. ”Where's Judas? I though he was supposed to be with you,” she managed to ask.
”Yeah he was, he forgot something back at the workshop, he will be home later,” Titus explained to his wife. Beatrice was still eating at her bowl of stew when they entered the kitchen,
”How's my favorite little princess?” Her father asked jokingly as he ruffled her hair, only to get the biggest smile that she could make in response.
”You really should let her finish her dinner, dear,” Theresa claimed from behind him. Looking back at her, father simply shrugged nonchalantly and continued to ruffle Beatrice's hair.
Later that evening as dusk was setting in the last bits of daylight still seeped into the interior of the house. As the family was spending time in their improvised living room, that also had the adult sized double bed tucked away in a corner, they heard someone knock on the door.
”You go put her to sleep, I will check the door,” Titus said to her wife and walked towards the door, meanwhile Theresa took Beatrice by hand and dragged her somewhat reluctantly to the children's room. As she had finished tucking her in, a loud bang echoed from the corridor. Surprise mixed with fear was evident on Theresa's face as she told the now wide awake again,
”Under the bed and be quiet, quickly!” she almost half whispered and left the room to see what was going on in the house. Beatrice heard some arguing down the corridor, but followed what her mother had told her and stayed under the bed. Another gunshot could be heard, tears beginning to form in the child's eyes, holding a hand in front of her mouth to be as quiet as possible. After ten minutes had passed Beatrice heard the door hinges squeak again, staying still even though every fiber of her being wanted to go out and check what had happened as she feared the worst. After few minutes had progressed she finally gathered the courage to crawl out from under the bed, however no amount of courage could have prepared a ten year old child to what they were about to see.
She dropped to her knees at the sight, her father and mother had both been shot in the chest, there were slashing wounds all over their bodies, the entire corridor was filled with blood all over its floor, she covered her mouth with her hands, but try as she might could not hold in tears.
”Mama...Papa...” was all she could, the rest lost in a mixture of her sobbing and crying.
[1262]
”I want something sweet, ” she said to nobody in particular and raised her gaze towards the female behind her, stoic in her demeanor, the stillness in her figure remarkable. And so clearly having gotten approval in her mind, the kid walked to a nearest street stall.
”How may I help you two?” the salesman behind the stall inquired when he saw them approaching.
”Umm, hi!” Beatrice said shyly and pointed to a small candy bag that was hung on display, ”That one,” she paused, ”I want that one, mother,” finishing quietly. Her mother said nothing, but simply laid some coins to the counter, her arms completely bandaged up. Beatrice smiled to the shopkeep and reached in and took the candy bag and began to turn away with her spoils.
”Miss, a-are you alright?” the salesman managed to ask from them his question clearly directed at the mother.
”Don't talk to my mother like that! She cannot speak!” Beatrice lashed out, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. The salesman visibly reeled back in shock. The small child turned away and walked off, leaving the stall and its keeper flabbergasted. A small crowd had turned their attention to see this conflict as Beatrice had raised her voice quite considerably. It was only then that he smelled it. A stench of death, although muffled with cloth and perfume had lingered in the area for a while. The realization amplified the salesman's already terrified expression even further and he stammered to himself,
”What in the world?” his eyes trailing the young laicar far longer than what was reasonable.
Meanwhile Beatrice happily chewed on her brand new candy as they traveled home, a perfectly average house in a decent neighbourhood. It had two distinct rooms with a kitchen, maybe a bit crampy for a family of four. A double bed was situated in one of the rooms, while two normal sized beds were in the other, one of the beds showing clear signs of use and that was Beatrice's. Scattered about in the house were countless rolls of various sand colored fabrics, jars and vials with all color of liquids were set on a nearby table, with some unclear labeling. On the walls, you could barely see some dried red splotches.
Stepping in and over a body lying at the doorstep, Beatrice sighed and looked at it for a long while.
”Father, how many times do I have to tell you not to sleep in front of the door?” she finished the lecture and kicked it as if to enforce her point, her father responding with an audible grunt, it slowly raised up from its resting place. He was also covered in bandages, though not nearly as beautifully as mother was, whoever had bandaged him up had shown less care than the meticulous care shown to the female corpse.
On the kitchen table was a pile of letters from various places. She had been just throwing them onto a careless stack as they had arrived, each of them unopened. Feeling quite hungry even though she had snacked on candy on her way back, Beatrice headed to the kitchen and checked the fridge for any leftovers, there was some meat stew, she grabbed a spoon from nearby and sat down on the floor to eat her dinner.
”Is it good?” A voice asked from behind her, Beatrice turned to her mother with a smile and nodded. Her mother, in her early thirties, had flawless skin and her long hair the most beautiful that she had ever seen.
”Can I grow to be as beautiful as you are, mother?” Beatrice asked with eyes full of awe. Theresa simply laughed at her child's question, ”Of course my dear, of course,” as they chatted away they could hear the door opening. ”Ah, your father must be home, I will be back in a moment,” her mother explained and rose from the table to go and see him.
Titus was what most would consider a handsome man in his late thirties. His body was well toned from working in carpentry, his hair was kept short, almost militaristic in style along with a small goatee. Hanging his jacket on the coat rack, Theresa hugged him tightly.
”Welcome home, dear,” wiping off some of the grease that was present on his chin. ”Where's Judas? I though he was supposed to be with you,” she managed to ask.
”Yeah he was, he forgot something back at the workshop, he will be home later,” Titus explained to his wife. Beatrice was still eating at her bowl of stew when they entered the kitchen,
”How's my favorite little princess?” Her father asked jokingly as he ruffled her hair, only to get the biggest smile that she could make in response.
”You really should let her finish her dinner, dear,” Theresa claimed from behind him. Looking back at her, father simply shrugged nonchalantly and continued to ruffle Beatrice's hair.
Later that evening as dusk was setting in the last bits of daylight still seeped into the interior of the house. As the family was spending time in their improvised living room, that also had the adult sized double bed tucked away in a corner, they heard someone knock on the door.
”You go put her to sleep, I will check the door,” Titus said to her wife and walked towards the door, meanwhile Theresa took Beatrice by hand and dragged her somewhat reluctantly to the children's room. As she had finished tucking her in, a loud bang echoed from the corridor. Surprise mixed with fear was evident on Theresa's face as she told the now wide awake again,
”Under the bed and be quiet, quickly!” she almost half whispered and left the room to see what was going on in the house. Beatrice heard some arguing down the corridor, but followed what her mother had told her and stayed under the bed. Another gunshot could be heard, tears beginning to form in the child's eyes, holding a hand in front of her mouth to be as quiet as possible. After ten minutes had passed Beatrice heard the door hinges squeak again, staying still even though every fiber of her being wanted to go out and check what had happened as she feared the worst. After few minutes had progressed she finally gathered the courage to crawl out from under the bed, however no amount of courage could have prepared a ten year old child to what they were about to see.
She dropped to her knees at the sight, her father and mother had both been shot in the chest, there were slashing wounds all over their bodies, the entire corridor was filled with blood all over its floor, she covered her mouth with her hands, but try as she might could not hold in tears.
”Mama...Papa...” was all she could, the rest lost in a mixture of her sobbing and crying.
[1262]
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