The Flames of Revenge

"The flames of revenge never die- never."

The screams and shouts of the obnoxious public still fill the depths of my mind to this very day. The people of that once humble village torture me in almost every single one of my dreams in thousands of different ways. This is true pain, this is true hurt, and this is the story of my life. The Alpha to the Omega. The beginning to the end. Time after time.

In the middle of the dark and shadowy night, my mother, thankfully, woke me up from my deep and dark slumber. The nightmares were now, in the ninth year of my abominable life, too much to bear. The pain was too great for such a small boy like me to endure. Every time I slept, it was like millions of knives stabbed into the pits of my mind continuously. I promised myself that night that one day, I would get rid of the pain of those nightmares if it was the last thing I ever did.

"Get up honey; pack your things, quickly!" My mothers face was distraught with emotion. Outside of the cracked windows of my bedroom was a sky lit with a red substance. The sky resembled blood. Screams were filling the sounds of the town outside me. Loud thumps came on our door. I knew something was wrong.

"Mommy, what's happening, I'm scared! Where's daddy?"

"Honey, just help me pack up your clothes and toys and I'll tell you everything later." My mom walked frantically around the room, gathering random belongings of mine and putting them in a rough brown bag with a sturdy fabric labeled "flour".

I rose from my bed, and squinted as I felt the enormous amount of pain that tortured my head. I screamed in pain, and my mother gave me a concerned look. She was on her knees still gathering my things and her eyes seemingly, popped out of her head when she looked up at me. It chilled me to the bone.

Mom hurriedly picked me up with the flour bag, and ran out of the house door as fast as she could. In the light outside I could see my mother's face more clearly. As was mine, her face was covered in tears. But then I thought of something. Why was there light if it was nighttime. I looked behind me and I saw a mob of townspeople walking towards us, flaming torches and a slew of firearms in hand. I now realized why the crimson sky was lit. Mother was terrified at the sight of the large gang of people. She screamed "stay away from me and my baby" but it was to no avail. The mob kept walking towards her with malicious intent on their minds. As I frantically searched through the mob for my lost father, I saw a huge rope hanging from a tree. I had seen things like these in books that my family owned. In all books ropes connected to a tree meant one thing- death.

I asked myself why the people who just a day ago, praised my family for our friendliness were now, coming at us with torches. It was mind-boggling for my young head.

Suddenly, from the middle of the crowd, a large plump man, with a bloody butcher knife in hand, made his way through the riotous crowd. He wore an apron that had a crimson substance all over it. It was Mister Jansu, the meat man of the town. His eyes were coated with rage, but his hands were covered in fresh blood.

"You, Patricia Haines, and your child are guilty. Both of you will be sentenced to death."

I shuddered at the word death, for it was something that I had never thought would come so soon.

In a whiny voice, I asked, "Mommy what did we do wrong? I've been a good boy for awhile now. Is it something I did?"

Tears gently ran down her face, and she slowly said to me, "You never did anything wrong honey, it's...it's... no ones fault."

The sad moment was then interrupted by the rude meat man. "Quit this nonsense, you know it's your fault. It's your fault that you married that evil scum of a man. He killed countless people and you brought him into this once humble town. Because of him ... my... daughter... is dead. We have proof!!! He was the only demon in this village, besides that abomination in your hands of course." This was the first time I had ever been called a name like that. Little did I know that many more would follow me along the jagged and rocky road that was my life.

"He never did anything to your daughter and you know it!!! And because of your rash judgments... you are trying to kill him." At that dark moment, my eyes began to open, not physically but in all other aspects: mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I had just been told that my father, the one who cared for me, and had given me life was killed by my peers who I thought were my friends.

In an angry tone the butcher made a mean reply. "Even if he didn't kill my beloved daughter, though I know he did, he was still a demon, and you know the rules- demon's are never allowed in the town of Granator. Demon's are the trash of the Earth and must be burned to a crisp like trash."

The crowd spread apart and I finally saw the full image of the rope on the tree. The rope held the head of a man with red eyes and a mark of abomination covering his chest. His skin was as dark as the night and he was half naked. He was standing on a stool, waiting for his death. It was my father.

I threw myself out of my mothers’ arms and ran towards the bloodied figure with my tears blowing in the deep wind. The crowd tensed up, but a stern skinny lady in the front, kept them from coming towards me to kill me.

"Daddy!! Daddy!! Please get up!!! We have to go!"

My father made a chuckle, and in a raspy voice replied, "I'm sorry my son.", with blood dripping down his eyes from the crown of his head. "I tried to resist but I... I just couldn’t. Temptation was too strong. I have not only failed my promise towards your mother, but I have failed you as well. Tell your mother that I am sorry and that if could take back my sin, I would. Gerald, I...", he coughed a slew of blood to the side, " I will not get to see you grow up to be a fine young man up close like I want but... I will be with you wherever you go. My dying wish is for you to always remember, that the tree of revenge does not carry fruit." The butcher, with a wry grin on his multi-chinned face grabbed my father, propped him up on a stool with a rope around his neck, and kicked the stool from under him. And with that my father, a demon trying to please his family and his peers by giving up the very thing that he needed to stay a demon, died. But when my father died, a new presence overtook me. It was a feeling that I had never felt before that overwhelmed me. It was the feeling of vengeance.

With anger filling my emotions, my demon eyes truly opened and for the first time, I saw the truth about this cruel, cruel world. I saw that death waits for no one and the true nature of humans. I made an oath to kill all humans who would dare make me cross. This was a promise that I would keep for the rest of my life and bound me to the shackles of hatred for the rest of my life.

As I turned from the sight of my fathers lifeless, limp body, I saw the whole crowd smile in admiration. They smiled because they had killed a man who fought to be more like them, to be something that he wasn’t. They should all rot in hell, I thought. I then glanced at my mother, who was in shock. She had just witnessed the love of her life be killed by the very same people who welcomed her into this village just two months ago. Then the butcher did something unexpected. While my mother stared at the dead body of her husband, he threw the knife he was wielding towards my mother. Unexpectedly, fire from the ground instantly shot up in front of her, acting as a shield. The knife instantly burned to a crisp. The crowd all gasped in unison. My demonic heart had finally been awakened and the spirit of revenge was engraved in my soul. My hands then went alit with fire, and it surprisingly did not harm my skin. I shot it towards the group of people who began to surround me, trying to kill me. They all burned and died with a vengeance.

The villagers ran away from me in fear but I killed them with the same flames that had burned their comrades. In a fit of rage I exploded with a ring of fire expanding towards the boundaries of the city. All in my path burned and died: including my mother. I blacked out and the last thing I saw was the my mother laying on the ground crying for her son, for she knew that I had given in to my fathers old ways and that it would take a miracle for me turn back to the joyful kid that I once was.

Cries of a Lost Soul

I woke in a pool of tears and in a ring of fire. The fire was not physical though. The fire was in my heart and it would never go out until I got my revenge on all who helped in killing my father. I rose to my feet to see the sky painted the same crimson color as it was before I blacked out. I looked for my mom as soon as I got up. And to my surprise I found her, but not how I wanted to have seen her. I expected to see her running towards me trying to get us out of this damned city but it didn’t happen. I saw my mother lying on the ground, the whites of her eyes showing, drowning in her own blood. I suddenly had a flashback to the point where I lost control. I lost control of my power and misused it. Rage and revenge had blinded my actions and because of it, I had killed my own dear mother. In shock, I walked towards the lifeless body that just hours ago had hugged me so tightly in her arms. Not caring if my clothing had gotten blood on it, I lifted my mothers arm up and wrapped it around myself, expecting to fell the same warmth of her embrace when she was alive. It didn’t happen. I lay there a couple of hours until it happened. It was the thing that would change the rest of my life forever.

As I lay their, crying my heart out, a quick blur passed before my eyes. I alerted my senses, ready for the slightest change in the dull smoky environment that I was in. I stood on my two feet, willing my powers to come back but it was to no avail. As hard as I tried, I just couldn’t spark the candle that made me destroy this forsaken city. The dark presence I sensed minutes ago then came closer. I could feel it. It was like the wind: I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was their.

The presence was so evil that I soon found myself hyperventilating faster and faster by the minute. I then did the only thing I could do. I cried. My tears were like drops of shelter from the outside world that I was doomed to live in. For every tear that dropped, the more I remembered the love of my mom. The more I remembered the perseverance of my father. I remembered my whole life and it all came to me as if it just flashed before my eyes. I thought I was dying but I soon knew that I wasn’t for a dark voice then rang through my ears.

The voice chuckled and said, “Little boy, what is the meaning of this fountain of tears.”

I trembled at the sound of the voice. It sounded like a lions roar mixed with the soft voice of the wind. It was comforting, yet commanding.

Licking one of the salty tears that slowly slid down my face I replied, “Can’t you see?! I just killed people and... I…I… killed my mommy. She and my daddy were all I had. And it’s my entire fault there dead.” I sniveled at the end of my grim statement.

“Little boy, you should know that it wasn’t your fault. It was there fault. If they hadn’t lied about your father you wouldn’t have killed them.” As he said this out of a small cloud of smog, a humanoid figure began to form. As the face formed I looked it straight into its cold dark eyes. They sent chills down my spine and made my hair stand on end.

I pondered what he said and found it to be true. “You…you’re… right. It’s all their fault! If not for them, they would have still been here and my mommy wouldn’t be gone.” It was true, all true. The body of the entity fully formed and I looked at the evil figure up and down. He was the type of thing I would only see in horror picture books. He had fangs that glinted in the light and if you looked at them hard enough, they would appear to be blood red. He had muscles that bulged and veins that carried pure evil to the heart. He wore talons on his feet and claws that looked like they could kill a human with a single touch. His skin was as black as night and his eyes followed suit. He had no hair but had two horns that curled around his head like a goat. He could only be described as one thing- terrifying.

He made a malicious smile and continued with an introduction. “I am known by many names but you can call me Ramses or Master, whichever you may prefer.” His voice held a sarcastic tone to it.

I backed away from the dark figure and thought about running but assumed he would only chase after me.

“Hahahaha. Don’t be afraid, I just want to know your name and your age. Simple as that.”

“My…my…my…my name?” Mom always told me not to talk to strangers, but it didn’t matter anymore. “My name is Aniro and I’m nine years old.”

Perfect, Ramses muttered under his cold breath. “Well Aniro, I know exactly how you feel. You feel sad and lonely, but most of all you feel angry. You feel anger towards the ones who welcomed you at first but then spit on you as if you were a useless play toy. You feel like your heart is constantly being torn to shreds and that any minute now you think you are going to break into a craze. Well, Aniro, I can help you get the one thing that you desire most. It is the thing that all want, but can’t always have. It is a little thing I like to call revenge.”

It was like he was reading my young, fragile mind. He DID know how I felt. I felt exactly the way he described. Deep in my heart I knew he could help me somehow, I just knew it.

“How are you gonna help me Mister?? I’m a ten year old half-demon with no way to control his power and I just killed my mommy.”

“Simple young one, it is very simple. You see, all you must do is follow me and you can have all the revenge you want and I will teach you how to use your powers, for a small fee of course.”

I raised my eyebrow, wondering what type of price he was talking about. He knew what I was thinking.

“All you must do, Aniro, is train with me and do what I say. And if you are good enough, I might find a way to reunite you with your mother and your father. So, do you accept?” I didn’t like the tone in his voice but I had no other choice. He said he could help me see my father and mother. I couldn’t pass this chance up.

“Yes, mister, I accept.” He raised his hand and offered me a shake of hands. I replied to his gesture by shaking his hand. And with that, the beginning of my new life had started. But little did I know that this deal would restrain me to Ramses leash for the rest of my life.

Five years later, as the sand blew over my hood, I contemplated my easy job. I was so excited that my hand was already on my sword. My palms were sweating and my eyes felt like they were on fire, literally. Even in excitement though, I could remember this desert from only four years ago. The sandstorm had just died down, and I awaited the presence of the bridge. The bridge was really a person who delivered whatever my boss told him: jewelry, drugs, mystic items, and things of that sort. And I. I was many things- a mercenary, assassin, bounty hunter, killer for hire- but in this case I was a scout, making sure that the bridge wouldn’t try anything funny like stealing what was in his possession. Also, bandits were known to dwell throughout the sand kingdom, looking for a chance to steal from the fools who dared to cross this hot, dry desert. It had happened too many times to various merchants around the world and it certainly wasn’t going to happen to Ramses and me, his personal assassin.

I searched frantically through the windblown desert to find the bridge but he didn’t show up. I had done this many times before, so I knew that the bridge may try something funny based on his attitude. He was a fat, rude, and obnoxious delivery boy, who would try to get his hands on something that wasn’t his at a minutes notice. Hopefully he didn’t try it this time.

I stood on the top of the cliff, looking across the seemingly endless desert, looking for the bridge until I finally spotted him. He wore a turban and thick clothing and had a long beard. He wore a ring on all of his fingers, each one from a different wife of his. He had sandals on, which showed his dark toes, the same color as the cliffs I stood upon. He was riding a camel and suddenly came to a halt, searching for his catch. The catch was the person who delivered the package to the buyer, in this case, Ramses. After a period of a twenty minute wait, the catch showed up, wearing nothing but underwear. Disgusting. His bony structure repulsed me, making me want to quit the job on the spot, but I had to do it, for them. The catch’s skin was as light as the clouds that hovered under the sun, shielding me from its deadly rays.

As the catch moved towards the bridge, I spotted a small structure pointing from the under garments he wore. I used my binoculars and it turned out it was a knife, which he wielded on ever so tightly with his left hand. It looked like he was touching himself from a distance. I got ready to pounce on the catch, before he killed the bridge but then he did something that I hadn’t thought of. He and the bridge walked together towards the exit of the desert together. Either they were gay or they conspired to double cross my master. I figured that it was the latter. Bad idea. The couple then made their camels speed up, so they could get out of the desert before they were caught.

I slid down the cliff, dust flying everywhere, especially on my dark skin. As I descended to the bottom I decided that I wouldn’t stay in the shadows for I felt like having a little fun at the time. I felt like fighting them head on. Using otherworldly speed, I ran towards the backstabbers, about to literally give them a stab to the back. The fat one then turned to his rear and saw me coming towards him. He knew he was in trouble. He pulled on the reigns for the camel, and made it go as fast as it could, but camels were slow so he had no chance. His companion followed suit. They looked at me as I quickly got within twenty feet behind them and then I disappeared.

With a look of terror on his lumpy face, the bridge turned to his boney friend and said, “Was it just me, or did I see someone running after -.” He didn’t finish for he suffered from a punch to the gut by yours truly. Blood spattered out of his mouth and the whites of his eyes showed. A suddenly froze up. I had a flashback to that day that my father was killed. It only gave me more of a reason to punish him more. His buddy left with the “gift” in his hand towards the end of the desert. I drew my sword and thrust it in the fat ones stomach. I drove it up towards his head and sliced him in two. My sword was dripping wet with blood, but I didn’t care, for I had my sights on the boney guy.

He looked back to make sure I wasn’t chasing after him, and I wasn’t. As I stood their thirty meters away from him, I focused heat into the palm of my hand. A small ember of a flame pulsed in my hand. It felt like it was an extension of my own arm. I aimed my hand towards him, with a grin on my face, and my red eyes as dilated as ever. I released the ball of energy. After three seconds of delay, I hear a cry of pain from the northern part of the desert and a ring of fire rise from the spot. He was dead. I ran towards him, as fast as I could so I could see if I had destroyed the gift or not. As the charred body of the man and his camel came into view, I saw the box, perfectly safe with runes embedded in it and a language that I did not understand written all over it. My job was done. All I had to do was return the box to Ramses. I taunted the dead body in front of me by blowing on my smoking finger as if it were a gun. With that, I said an ancient charm and retuned to Ramses lair, with his dark cold eyes looking straight towards, a smile on his face. I had done well.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my pet, Aniro. Come here and let’s inspect what you found.” I cringed at the sound of him calling me his pet, but tried to shake it off before he saw my reaction.