Author: Narcisus Inez Xilian PM
TENTATIVE TITLE. A boy of prophecy- bound by fate to make or break the world. How will this prophecy be affected by the kidnapping of the boy by none other than the acting Death? How will the boy know what is right and wrong when he sees people slaughtered on a whim almost daily? And perhaps there is another? (Possible Slash- explained inside)Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Drama - Words: 608 - Published: 02-17-13 - id: 3101947
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: This is actually a re-write of a story I found rotting on a flash-drive with a substantial amount written. I will be posting what I have of that story under the same title soon. This will be my more mature writing of that story so I suppose this is a re-write. About the slash there is a possibility that this will contain slash as my original story had it introduced in the first chapter. I am deviating from that story but not too much so I might add in the slash later or leave it out. If slash bothers you please leave because I don't want flamers.
Death walked the empty hallways of his castle, the Dark Tower that cast shadow over the world bellow. Out the large window there were massively populated cities and small towns. The craggy mountain landscape giving way farther down to lush evergreen forests.
He watched them, knowing that every single human bellow was about to experience a shock. A new system was to be implanted, from today onward and only those deserving of it were to survive.
Turning Death paced back and forth. There was the sound of a heavy metal door opening and closing and crisp footsteps coming from behind him. Death's only aide approached, stopping a few feet from the pacing Death. "Your Majesty, the boy is here. His mother shouted out some nonsensical words before she died but he does not seem to have been affected."
Death's breath hissed out from under his cloak. "Nonsensical?" He looked to the man next to the man but he merely shook his head weakly. "I see," He turned his cloaked face to his aide, "How can you be sure that this is the boy from the prophecy and not some peasant? Thus far your judgement has been sound but this is a delicate matter and I doubt a mortal could comprehend it, do you understand Markov?"
"Of course your lordship, I understand. The boy is in the next room, shall I bring him to you?" Markov's thick deep voice sharply contrasted with Death's empty rasp. Death inclined his head delicately and Markov turned to the heavy doors, the clicking of his boots sharp against the obsidian floors. Outside, lay Death's only hope, along with his only fear.
Markov soon returned to see Death in the very same position, excited would be an understatement. Death's eyes steadied on the young boy and looked him over critically. He was a small boy, maybe six at the most with dense brown hair that covered his head and dark green eyes that seemed to understand everything. Death watched him for a moment before saying, "Boy, do you know where you are?"
Children around his age knew how to speak right? "Go away." Death hid his surprise at the boy's words masterfully.
"What was that?" Death asked; a hint of anger in his hissing voice.
"I said to go away, if you don't have my mother with you then go away." The boy said fearlessly squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest the way only a naive six year old could do.
Death's first reaction was an all encompassing fury at the gall this boy had to challenge him, this soon gave way to grudging respect for the bravery of the child. And suddenly it didn't seem like this was the wrong boy anymore. "Yes, you are the one, I am sure of it." The boy just stared at him defiantly, his bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.