This is it, my friends. Thank you so much for reading and staying with me on these difficult nights and months!!

--------Chapter 19: Acte Es Fabula--------

“And finally, there’s been a tale about a grey eyed boy with red and brown hair who has been stealing food from Center Circle.” The creature rasped with trouble. He stood in a darkened room, before a large bed. In his lithe talons, he held several papers, important papers. There was slight movement on the bed as a figure slowly sat up.

“A thief?” The voice purred into the darkness. The creature at the other end of the bed nodded, shuffling through the papers as his beady eyes glanced around, his beak opening twice before speaking.

“Yes. He is 15, I am not too sure if you wished to take him in or have him eliminated…..”

“Zanka.” The voice sounded closer as the figure stood from the bed, picking up a black robe with strong, clawed hands. The vulture like creature tilted his head.

“My lord?”

“He is much too old. Ki-“

“Bring him here.” A hoarse voice spoke up from the bed. Both anthro figures turned to the bed as another figure rose from the dark sheets. The vulture creature took a step back, disdain in his eyes for the figure.

Putting on the black robe, the larger and much more pleasing figure leaned over the bed, kissing the forehead of his lover gently, “Why are you interested in him?”

New dark coal black eyes stared at the lion, “To test myself.”

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The teenager shivered in the cold. Wrapping his arms tightly around his knees, Thomas pressed his skin against himself as he gave a loud cough into the still air. Exhaling shakily, he could see the white mist exit his mouth.

‘I should have stolen a coat……’ He thought glumly. It was the beginning of fall, and it was damn cold. The teenager never thought Australia could become so frigid; he had even heard some people talking about an early snow. Oh joy.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and leaned against the brick wall. He hadn’t moved much from between the two dumpsters. At first, the smell was unbearable, but the nighttime air seemed to have made the scent completely vanish. This was very relieving to the young teen, especially to his nose.

A crashing sound was heard nearby, but he ignored it. Plenty of noises went on in Chica de Leon; gruff voices, small whimpers, annoying screams, and energetic cat calls. As well as objects being overturned, destroyed, cars honking and the like. Taking in another inhale of cold air, Thomas winced as the air caused pain to lace throughout his lungs. Shivering, his grey eyes looked around as another crash sounded much closer to him than the previous sound.

‘It’s nothing. This town is full of noises……’ He reminded himself as he glanced around, even looking up.

It was salvation. With a cry, Thomas quickly leapt to his feet, shoving himself from the wall. Tripping over his feet in his haste, he crashed onto the ground just as several knives embedded the sidewalk he was just sitting upon. Breathing heavily, Thomas scrambled to his feet and ran out of the alleyway, fast. He didn’t see the knives, nor the black figure who had followed their path to pick them up.

All he knew was that his instinct said ‘Get the hell away’. So he did. Panting, the teen flew down the street known as Center Circle, the market place where he had stolen most of his food for the past few weeks. His legs maneuvered over old trash and even a few planks of wood from a destroyed cart. Despite the blood throbbing in his ears and the sound of his chest heaving air, he could hear foot steps behind him.

They were catching up awfully fast.

Gritting his teeth, he quickly ducked into an alleyway and kept running. A fence was before him, but that wouldn’t stop Thomas. Instead of looking for something to jump on to jump over the fence, the teenager merely hurdled across the ground and grabbed the chain wire fence, scurrying up the wall as fast as he could.

The footsteps sounded close and with a soft cry, Thomas jumped from the top of the fence. Hitting the ground hard, he didn’t wince in pain as his tongue was bitten. Swallowing the blood, he bolted down the alleyway, coming out onto another street. This one was plain, lined in bricks. He hardly took notice as he began to run down it.

Suddenly, a black figure appeared before him. Crying out in surprise, he skidded to a halt before quickly turning and running the opposite way; towards a large black iron fence. Feeling his feet ready to fail him, Thomas gritted his teeth, the sweat pouring down his face. Currently, he was running out of blind panic. TWO people were after him now, he had to run, had to live.

Slipping between the large black iron bars, Thomas entered the seemingly forbidden territory. It was nothing but a jungle of thick trees and bushes. Smashing through the sharp twigs and branches, a large tree root finally took him down. Tripping over the large brown root, Thomas’ face met opposition as he slammed into the ground, hard.

The air was knocked out of him, and a short burst of a memory flashed across his eyes. Turning over, Thomas laid on his back, his mouth gaping and trying to get air. Opening his eyes, he saw his Moma standing over him with a sneer. She quickly vanished as he suddenly twitched and in took a vast amount of oxygen.

Coughing, he turned onto his side. Saliva dripped from his mouth as the bottom of his tongue burned from the intense flight. Shaking violently, Thomas looked around himself. The woods were blurred and everything seemed so far away.

‘I…. Am malnourished… Shouldn’t have… run…..’ He blearily thought as he fell forward again. Staring at the grass, his eyes landed upon two small insects. They were small black ants. The two insects felt each other with their feelers. Just as they were about to leave, a much larger red ant suddenly appeared and killed the two without thought.

Thomas felt himself wanting to move away as the red ant turned to look at him…..

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With a gasp, Thomas’ eyes fluttered open. Quickly sitting up, his head hit a wall of nausea. Clenching his teeth, Thomas laid back down before he would vomit over the floor. Swallowing, he found that his mouth was dry.

‘Uhn…. What happened?’ His mind blankly thought as he looked around. It was a small room, bare, aside from the bed he was lying on. Thomas found himself remembering his old room. A single bed, a dresser, and a book shelf….. Swallowing again, he slowly sat up, his hand tight on his hair.

He had to stop remembering those days. They were gone; he had no home and no family now. Sighing, he licked his dry lips before carefully standing. Walking over to the far side of the room, Thomas blinked. Wait, what? Looking over the wall, he turned to the left and to the right…..

‘Where are the doors?’ He wondered in his aching head. Rubbing his hair, Thomas began to pace the room, grey eyes scouring the walls for a line, a knob, something that would resemble a door.

Sighing, he gave up after fifteen minutes….. It was hopeless. He was stuck in a room that would never let him out- would he die of starvation or dehydration first? Sitting back on the bed, he ran both hands through his hair before resting his fingers on the back of his neck.

Of course, Thomas had looked throughout the room except for the wall directly behind his bed. When the teenager felt a sudden chill on his spine from a small breeze, he wondered what had happened.

“Stand.” A voice scratched behind him. Jumping to his feet with a small cry, he quickly turned around to face a smaller creature. It stood up to his chest, and much resembled a vulture. Its head was long and bald, with a crooked beak and beady eyes. The creature had lithe arms with sharp crooked talons emitting from equally crooked fingers. The black cloak covering the rest of the creature concealed any other body disfiguration, but Thomas wasn’t too eager to look at the creature’s body anyway.

“Come here.” The creature beckoned. Thomas immediately felt a flare of defiance as he glared at the creature.

“Where am I?” He spoke loudly, hoping to use his voice to scare the seemingly fragile vulture. The creature only snorted as it narrowed its eyes.

“You are in Lord Syracuse’s torture chambers. Now come here.” Thomas felt a sudden violent tremble. Torture chambers?! He took a step back, teeth beginning to chatter somewhat. Images of a bloody night, dismemberment immediately came to mind.

‘Moma……’ His stomach suddenly clenched and Thomas fell to his knees, arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen. Swallowing heavily, he forced himself not to heave onto the floor from the sickness. He heard the creature sigh, followed by two large sounding foot steps.

Looking up, his eyes widened as he saw an enormous man. The skin was pale, but his golden eyes were sharp, long brown hair tied loosely behind a very regal looking face. The man wore nothing but a pair of black pants, his large hands and feet adorned with horrible looking claws.

Thomas suddenly felt as though he were seven again as he shrank on the floor slightly from fear. The man above him grinned, showing a wide array of sharp teeth. Crouching in front of Thomas, the clawed hand reached out to grab at the red and brown hair. Inhaling sharply, Thomas felt so much fear that he couldn’t even cry out. The lion man in front of him found this amusing as he chuckled.

“So you must be the boy stealing food from Circle Center…..” Thomas made no motion of replying, “From your silence, I will take that as a yes. My name is Syracuse, and welcome to training.” Thomas looked very much confused in his paralyzing fear as the lion stood, dragging the teenager behind himself.

Thomas found himself whimpering. But not from pain, he was used to it by now. Instead, he was whimpering in fear. What was going to happen!? In the streets, he had felt invisible, as if nothing could touch him. Here he was now, however, being touched, and having no clue on what would happen.

Rejecting people was supposed to make him in control. The less human contact meant the more control he had in his life. What went wrong, why was he suddenly here? His mind seemed to have taken a step back, and Thomas didn’t feel of his body anymore. He didn’t seem to realize that he was taken into a room where the walls were lined with sharp objects, and blood had stained the floor so much it was a deep, deep red.

He didn’t seem to realize that he was being strapped down into a table, and that he was being watched from another man who was sitting languidly in the corner. None of this was the present, Thomas felt he was watching a memory.

‘Maybe I am…. Maybe this already happened, an-‘ Thomas’ thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he found the most indescribable pain infiltrate his body and a scream was torn from his throat. He had never screamed, not since his Moma. Another pain entered his body and he found himself screaming again.

This pain was so much different from his Moma. Tears began forming at his eyes and fell down his cheeks as he twisted in his bonds, trying to escape, to get away from the pain he had never felt before. This pain was a sharp, penetrating pain. Nothing like the callous bruises and slow pain his mother had done onto him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a silver knife embed itself into his arm, tearing at the flesh and ripping it out. He repeatedly screamed, even began screaming words to stop the pain. None of it worked. Eventually, his voice grew too hoarse to scream. All he could do was whimper.

Through the pain, Thomas found himself sitting up and a hard hand tight on his shoulder. He flinched as a sharp pain penetrated his shoulders repeatedly with deep, deep slashes. He could hear the rumble of voices around him, but the throbbing going on around his body was too much. He could see blood all over and…. Holy shit, what was that?

Thomas found himself pressing into the body behind him as a hand brought something close to his face. He could remember a time when another hand brought something to his face. He could remember that lady, Vissal’s aunt, bringing a piece of his Moma to his lips.

Now it was a piece of himself. A piece of his flesh. The sudden gripping pain in his stomach forced him to lurch forward, opening his mouth to vomit bile over his ripped legs. Gasping for air, Thomas felt hands tight on his head. They were holding him in place, forcing his mouth open. The pain surrounding his body prevented him from moving, from trying to break free.

With a sob, Thomas realized that he had just eaten some of his flesh. The memory of Anomi shoving a piece of his Moma at him ravaged his mind, and the teenager couldn’t handle any more pain as with an aggressive shudder, he fell to the side in blackness.

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Dark coal eyes stared as the boy in front of him collapsed onto his side. A satisfied grin spread across his face as he looked up to Syracuse.

“Forcing him to eat his toe? I must say, I would have never thought of that…..” The rasp voice spoke into the air. Syracuse only smiled, picking up a knife and wiping the blood from it.

“Well, I’m a bit creative I guess….. So did you test yourself Kilroy?” He asked his lover. Kilroy nodded, his coal eyes looking over his work.

“Yes. And this is my mark.” He lightly ran the knife over the letters screaming across the boy’s shoulders; HATI. Syracuse walked over, looking at it. He smiled and leaned over, kissing his lover’s rust colored hair.

“I love you.” He murmured into the fuzziness. Kilroy grinned sadistically as he embedded the knife into the boy’s shoulder. Looking over to his lion, the human leaned over, taking his lips and brushing them over Syracuse’s ear to mouth back his affection.

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Zanka, Syracuse’s vulture advisor as well as his healer, looked over the small teenager. He frowned at seeing all of the wounds, his talons fingering the letters across the skin.

‘Stupid human,’ He thought, ‘You think you could’ve gotten away from stealing from Lord Syracuse?’ The vulture’s talons began to glow as they left the words and started to heal the other parts of the teen. Wounds were closed and toes were reattached, but the untold mental damage might never be healed.

Not as though it was any of Zanka’s concern. He just had to heal all the wounds except for the words, and then dump the boy off in some alleyway. His lesson had been learned, and everyone knew that the teenager would never steal again.

Finishing his work, the vulture called forth a guard to carry the teenager back into the street, and away from Syracuse’s school for the rest of his life. The guard did as he was told, dumping Thomas unceremoniously onto the cement.

The teenager stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. He saw a pair of feet walk away from him in the morning mist. Sunlight filtered throughout the town, igniting several pieces of trash to light with the warm rays. A few of the rays landed upon the torn boy, but he didn’t feel them.

He felt cold….. So cold. Swallowing, Thomas slowly began to move. Everything that had happened just a few hours ago ran fresh through his mind. Clutching his stomach, he heaved over the ground, bile and saliva dripping from his mouth.

He almost expected to see a piece of his body fall out.

Spitting, Thomas’ trembling grew more furious as he leaned forward, his forehead landing into the burning bile that he had just threw up. Not caring, he wrapped his arms tightly around his sides. His eyes were wide with fear, ears open and listening. He was ready to flee from any sort of sound. He didn’t want to be captured again. That pain, that night…..

Vomiting again, Thomas’ body quickly stiffened. Listening carefully, his eyes grew even wider. He heard a noise, he knew he did. But what was it? Footsteps, those two men? The noise, the noise, what was the- Ah!

Thomas quickly stood, but his legs faltered and he fell onto his side. Crawling frantically, he cowered beside a wall, his hands over his head as his legs drew up to his body tightly. The soft flutter of wings and the hooting sound of an owl sounded. Thomas began to shake and tremble, it was getting closer!!

‘NO! Stay away, oh please, stay away, don’t touch me, I don’t wanna die, no more pain, please go awaygoawaygoawaygoaway!!’ His mind repeated those words over and over and over as the sound of wings got so close he could feel it on his face. Whimpering, he found himself crying again.

Feeling ready to die, Thomas kept still. But another sound joined the fluttering. This sound was footsteps. The fluttering quickly disappeared, growing faint as the foot steps grew stronger. As equally scared of this noise as the previous, Thomas tightened into a ball. Now sobbing, he began to whimper and beg in a hoarse whisper.

“Oh, please, I’m so sorry, don’t touch me, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me. Don’t, just go away, please go aw-“

“Calm down, mortal.” A snorting laugh was heard, “I’m not going to hurt you. Where would the fun in that be?”

Thomas had no clue who was speaking as he closed his eyes, beginning to hiccup, “I-I don’t kn-know….”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a mortal, silly.” The voice laughed again. Hearing the laughter began to soothe Thomas, despite not feeling ready to be soothed. His muscles began to relax against his will. His eyes, just as defiant, slowly opened. They met the end of a dark green cloth, dirty with water and grime.

“Look up, mortal. It won’t hurt, I swear.” Thomas found his head moving, trailing up the green cloak. The hands that poked out of the sleeves were near the waist of the figure. The skin was pale, and the short claws were of a dark yellow color.

As his eyes traveled further, Thomas found himself staring into bright golden eyes. Despite the similar color of the man who had given him unspeakable pain, he didn’t feel fear. Instead, he began to feel more relaxed as he slowly sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. The golden eyes had black bands ending in points under them. The pale face was framed with dark green hair that was tinted with lines of gold. Blue horns emitted from the soft looking hair.

Thomas swallowed as he stared at the creature. All of his fear seemed to have vanished. What had happened last night felt like nothing more than a nightmare. Yes, that was it. Thomas found himself smiling gently. How in the world could that have really happened to him? It was just a nightmare, due to all of the rumors he had heard of Syracuse.

The person in front of him laughed, nodding, “Yes, yes. That’s right. It was just a nightmare, nothing to worry about.” Thomas nodded back, seeming to not notice how the person seemed to have picked up on his thoughts.

“Ready to go, Thomas Eric Rivers?” The voice questioned, showing a wide grin laden with sharp fangs.

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Acte es fabula- The play is finished. I would like to thank all of my beautiful, wonderful reviewers! BUT, please do not think this is the end! We still have so much to be done! Who is this green haired guy? What will happen to Thomas? Why did Syracuse keep the word HATI between his shoulders?

All of these questions leave room for something great, something beautiful- the second part of Thomas’ trilogy, A God’s Toy. I will definitely continue this story!!

All disclaimers (since I’ve forgotten some):

Vissal and Anomi- Alaric and Marrianne owned by Amby-chan

Syracuse and Zanka- Kelzig and Jinkx owned by Dragon-chan

Hati- Less owned by Kaht

Songs:

One Hundred Years by The Twighlight Dawn

The Background by Third Eye Blind

Once again, thank you all of my wonderful reviewers! And let’s all give a big hand to Tessa-chan for letting me use her computer at one in the morning to write this those many nights ago!! I love you sweetie. And thank you everyone for role playing with me, especially you Amby-chan! For if it wasn’t for you, Thomas would never had turned into the character he is today.

Please be sure to check out A God’s Toy if you wanna see exactly what happens to Thomas! For anyone interested, it will contain violence, sucky assassin skills, sex, demons, rape, gods, and the most sex obsessed, beautiful, sarcastic, blood thirsty assassin the world has ever known.