BONUS

. . .

Greetings

Emanuel, after thorough discussion and deliberation you have been accepted into the Knight League. Please fill the required details in the attached papers. The auspicious Knighting ceremony will be dated on the 5thof the next month. Your presence is requested in the Venet Palace.

Your Regards

Knight League

. . .

Emanuel crumbled up the invitation and threw it to the side. His fist could not help but clench itself as he remembered going into the Venet Palace along with his father,

The Previous Grand Commander of the Order of Serenity.

. . .Recollection. . .

A young man with a handsome face sat behind the imposing rosewood desk. He was filling out some paperwork.

Boom

The door pivoted open with a harsh noise. The man looked up at the sudden intrusion.

It was Ramiel.

“Grand Commander Eugene! Erak is in trouble.”

The previously apathetic look on his face suddenly changed for the worse. Now, the meek looking person looked unusually ominous.

With a bleak expression on his face, he walked past the panicked Ramiel.

Strutting forward, the handsome countenance of the man turned darker. His breathing gradually grew heavier, his heart brisker.

The heavy exhales turned misty. Pervading cold could not threaten the man as he sauntered through the pure white veiling the once green paradise.

. . .

The Venet Mansion

The meandering snow ridden road looked mesmerizing as it stood in front of the grand mansion. The insignia made up of two crossed swords on a shield were proudly embedded in the large front gate adorned in gold.

Mesmerizing

Only word that could describe the vibrant white world.

Except for the obnoxious red patch in the untainted white.

There were many crowded around the great golden gates. People whispered and murmured, as they all looked at the hideous spectacle.

Stolen story; please report.

A young boy stood alone, near the puddle of blood. Blood tricked down the knife wielded by those small palms. The dreadful sight was strikingly in contrast to the beautiful face of the small child.

As a pair of boots strode through the thick snow. The black boots slushed as they strutted through the gloppy snow.

The incessant murmurs halted.

People gave way for Eugene.

He looked at his son.

His only son.

Standing alone with a knife dripping with blood.

“Erak!”

He rushed to his son’s side.

Erak had his face down.

He was standing.

But his eyes closed.

As soon as Eugene embraced Erak fell into his arms, as if he had been standing unconsciously all this time.

“Erak! Erak! What happened to my son?!”

Eugene yelled wildly.

The crowd started dispersing terrified, facing a Grand Commander’s wrath.

With an innocent face lying down in his lap the man named Eugene screamed and yelled.

. . .

Two days later

In a small dark room only a single lamp was lit. The lamp illuminated the lone wooden table in the center of the room.

A black head rested on the murky looking table. His hands shackled and cuffed to the legs of the table.

Dried up tears and snot rubbed all over his face. Evidence of the boy's recent outpour.

The metal door creaked and three figures shrouded in the dark talked to each other.

"You can talk to him once again."

"No need. Lock him up while he is sleeping so we wouldn't need to deal with any trouble."

"Still, isn't he your san?"

"My son died yesterday. This is nothing but a hideous murderer lying in front of me."

A could voice echoed the room.

The three soon left.

An unaware boy was soon locked up in a dark and disgusting cell which reeked of urine and rotten meat.

. . .

Small blue eyes opened slowly.

They looked around.

Suddenly the boy's face scrunched in disgust. The place was letting out a revolting stench. He tried to hold his breath but eventually had to give in.

As soon as the stench hit his small button nose.

He vomited.

He tried to pull away and vomit somewhere else. But faced denial from the schackles and cuffs that held his small hands and legs down.

He puked on his own body.

Nasty appearance of his own body was secondary as the stench tickled his nose again.

He puked again.

Eventually he had to swallow it down to keep all the contents of his stomach inside himself.

A shivering body laid down on the icy prison floor. The small body had turned blue. A small and fragile voice escaped the frozen-black lips.

"Papa..."

Eyes that had been dried of any tears had turned blood red. The half-closed red eyes in the bleak room looked appalling.

"I don't want to be here... "

. . .