Novels2Search
Angels of Hell
The Beginning of the Carnage

The Beginning of the Carnage

As one child was born, it seemed as if the breath was stolen from each sentient being in this world’s lungs, replaced with a feeling of dread and aching. This seemingly pure, newborn child caused a sense of panic and horror, chasing his loved ones away before he could even walk. A dark black cloud following the child as he was thrown around from family to family, causing more grief and more pain for all those associated with him. This would be the start of the carnage of peace, no the carnage of purity.

            “Mama! We’re going to go play in the yard!” the boy yelled from the large wooden door to the outside.

            “Alright! But papa and I are going out for a bit, so keep an eye on the little ones!” The large hall carried the gentle, sing-song voice to the boy.

            “I will!” He carried his small brother in his arms like a small, giggling football, holding his sister’s hand with his free arm.

            “Bubba! I’m going to throw the ball! Go long!” She giggled, stopping in her tracks. He set the four-year old down and raced to the other side of the field. “Catch!” She yelled.

The sun had started to go down and the children were tired from playing. The eldest brother plopping on the ground and setting his sleepy sister in his lap, watching the smallest boy roll in the grass.

            “When do you think Mama and Papa’ll be home?” She asked, yawning.

            “I’m sure they’re home by now.” The boy stood up and stretched, “Come on, I’ll carry you back.” The children made their way back to their home to find no one there.

            “Hmm, well I guess they had a few extra trips to make.” The eldest boy thought, laying his sister on her bed. “Come on bud, let’s go to bed.” He said, holding the small boys hand and taking him to his bedroom. He turned out the lights and rolled onto his bed, next to his brothers, mind racing until he finally fell asleep.

            “Viky.” A small voice said, nudging the oldest boy.

            “What do you want Priscilla?” He asked, annoyed that he had been woken up from his sleep so early.

            “Mama and Papa aren’t here.” Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.

            “What?” He sat up straight, leaping out of bed.

            “They’re not here!” She cried.

            “Get Max, and go sit on the couch. I’m going to go look for them, okay?” He said, changing into clothes quickly and throwing a jacket on.

            “No, don’t leave!” She cried.

            “It’s going to be okay, just go sit on the couch. I’ll be right back, just wait for a couple minutes.” He kissed her forehead and raced out the door, running to the market where his parents were supposed to be.

            “Hey! Viktor! It’s early, usually you haven’t even woken up yet!” One of the men working the booths laughed.

            “Have you seen my parents?” He asked, panic rising in his voice.

            “I haven’t, sorry bud. What’s wrong?”

            “They didn’t come back home last night and I haven’t heard anything from them.” He pushed the tears back and explained the situation.

            “Oh gosh, well no one is here yet so why don’t a few of us help you find them?” The man asked.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

            “Yes, please.” He smiled as the worker grabbed a few of his other friends.

            “We’ll go this way, you go that way.” The man said, separating the group into two divisions. They nodded in agreement and set off to find the parents. After an hour, there was still no luck, so they decided to check inside a few bars and see if anyone had heard of anything.

            “Hey, have you seem Arthur and Gweneth Hargrave?” One of the men yelled into the bar door.

            “Uh, last I saw them was last night.” The barkeeper shrugged. Viktor pushed his way through the men and ran up to the barkeeper.

            “What were they doing?” He asked hastily.

            “I saw them with a big group, the other people seemed to be kinda manhandling them.”

            “Who were the people in the group?” The teen asked, harshly.  

            “We don’t speak about them.” The woman behind the bar said quietly, looking to the men behind him.

            “You don’t mean,” one of the men started.

            “I do.”

            “What? What’s going on?” Viktor asked, getting more scared by the second.

            “Kid, the group she’s talking about is a notorious gang. They hustle people and if they refuse to get what they want, it doesn’t end up well. And knowing how stubborn your father is,” he paused, trying to read the boy’s face.

            “Where did they go after they left?” Viktor turned back to the bartender.

            “Down that way.” He pointed down a small, dark road. Viktor didn’t wait for the others, and ran down the road, hoping he was just overthinking what had happened to his parents. He stopped. And as the other men approached, they did too. The road was painted red and in the center of it all laid his parents. Viktor stared at his loving parents, not knowing how he should react. He slowly walked up to the lifeless bodies on the road as the sun started to rise, and people started to arrive on the road, gasping at the scene. He bent down and looked at his mother’s eyes, the cold grey eyes that had given him so much love and happiness. He looked over to his father, his hand intertwined with his wife, together until the end. He noticed a small piece of paper in his father’s other hand on his chest. He slipped it out of his father’s hand, blood spilling onto his shoes and hands.

            “You dare refuse us. You dare not pay us. It has been ten years, Arthur, you don’t remember the loan? Well, have a great time trying to forget now. You have paid it with more than just your life and your wife’s life now. Are you happy? This didn’t just affect you but your whole family now.” Viktor read it so many times, trying to figure out what the last part of it meant, until it clicked.

            “No.” He whispered, standing up and sprinting back towards his home. He ran as fast and as hard as he could, hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was. No, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO! As he finally saw his home in the distance, he saw the broken door and the pools of red liquids seeping on the window.

            “NO, NO, NO!” He screamed as he ran into the house, searching for his siblings. “Where are you?!” He yelled as he ran into the living room, hearing a gurgle. He raced to the other side of the couch and saw his small sister laying down in a ocean of her own blood. “Priscilla!” He cried, picking her head off the ground.

            “Viky,” she whispered, coughing on her blood.

            “I’m here, I’m here.” He shushed, tears flooding his eyes as he saw the small boy next to her laying face down, a knife through his back.

            “I stayed on the couch with Maxy like you said.” She gave a faint smile, eyes starting to tint grey.

            “I’m so proud of you, sunshine.” He said through tears, trying to smile.

            “Viky, can we sing the song we used to sing when I had a bad dream. I don’t feel good.”

            “Of course,” he pulled her into his arms, putting her head in his chest carefully.

            “You are my sunshine, my” he stuttered on his words, tears falling.

            “Only sunshine.” She whispered. He smiled as tears fell onto her back.

            “You make me happy,”

            “When skies are” her voice faded.

            “Pris? Priscilla, please,” he cried, hugging her tightly, “keep singing, please.” He took a deep breath in. “You’ll never know dear.” His breath staggered, “how much I love you. Please, don’t” he took a deep breath in, a sharp feeling stinging his throat, “take my,” He laid her down and leaned over her small body, kissing her forehead one last time, “Sunshine away.”

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter