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One Alluring Night-Fiction
"It was cold outside. The rain pouring, and the trees were slightly bent; in such a way that they seem to be mourning of something, or someone, who passed in a manner of an honorable and moral death."
If only that was the reason.
They were crying out for their hero, a hero who brought peace to their once lush green meadows--Now, there was no winds, not even a slight breeze or any sign of movement, that could break the utter silence that filled the air with such anguish.
I was young back then, carefree as the flutter of butterfly wings, and joyous as a drunken man who has just received his fortnight's pay...
Once I was told that there was a strong and caring man that was our Lord; who fought for his beliefs, and for the people who supported him. He spoke of peace, honor, and glory--and as young as I was, I believed the saying.
I grew older then.
The man who endured his tormented heart for his empire--the one man who reigned with 'honor and glory', who cared for every bit of life that was known to him, died a tragic death; unbeknownst to all villagers.
As I write this now, I will forget those flames which consumed my village, those flames that roared in its might--overwhelming us in chaos and death. Even if I was was deaf or blind, I will not forget the piercing screams of the slaughter that was before me, and the affliction that murdered my hero and my soul: destroying my dreams and hopes.
I was running, desperately, I yearned to turn back--to die along with my family. I couldn't; for if I was to turn back, I would partake in a horrific glimpse of the burnt unidentifiable bodies that was disfigured; with dislocated jaws, gouged out eyes and the unshed tears...I knew I couldn't hold on; the pungent smell of the decaying bodies was gnawing against my nose..
"There's still some out there!" I can faintly hear the gunshots ricocheting--
This was the true meaning of life?
"You heard the man, kill them!"
The hell that all of us was experiencing?!
Horrified, the villagers ran--searching for any shelter that was still standing. Suffice to say, all was in vain...
The air was filled with blood curdling cries.
It was only my eyes that was darting around in frenzy; who was still alive. 'Shelter!' My mind screamed. Aspired to use my remaining energy, I sprinted to a small, decaying cave-like shelter, barely fit for one.
Rocking back and forth, I chanted that this wasn't real.
Everything was a lie.
At that moment, every single moment- every horrifying memory came back to me. No one will come for me. No one ever will.
The crusty, blood-dried shirt tainted by my parent's death made me vomit what was left in my stomach.
I can still hear the marches of the soldiers that were still lusting after me--poignant anxiety overwhelmed my body.
'Was I to die here?
Am I to die without a god; without a hero?
Was I damned to hell?'
Those thoughts rang in my head. I lost all hope...
Realization shot through me--which caused the broken whisper that came out of my parched, chapped lips.
"I'm going to die here,"
Giddy, I let out a small chuckle.
'I'll never see my family again.'
"Everything...so colorful" I said delusionally.
A single gun shot echoed through the air.
A little boy dropped soundlessly to the ground.
It was almost as if time stopped, as if my heart stopped.
He writhed in pain, his nose scrunching and his mouth agape.
Struggling to fight death itself, the child faintly whispered to me...
'Mama...papa..where are you..'
My heart really did stop.
Haven't they shown enough atrocious crimes? Such a small, innocent child, died from the torturous event that was upon us. Rain soon came, as if the world was mourning for the angelic sadness that was shown in front of me, with pools of emptiness shown in his eyes. I could have told him--I could have just told him that his parents were dead, that they were burned alive from the massive destruction that was here; that they all died, everyone did.
But weren't we the same? If I had killed my own self, is it not that I could have been the same child who lost his own innocence?
Cold, alone, and desperate.
I was lonely.
It was only I that embraced him, weeping.
---
Edited. I saw mistakes.