The chaotic landscape was painted in shades of black and white, a bleak and gruesome picture that was broken only by the dark blue eyes of a lone figure. Standing in the middle of the carnage, his deadened gaze remained fixed upon the sky, seemingly detached from the blood, bones, and cries that surrounded his feet.
He remained a silent observer, detached from the world and impervious to its agony. The corpses and the streams of blood only emphasized his profound stillness.
"Huh!"
A scene of sombre mourning filled the air, a grave atmosphere of sorrow and anguish. Even the clouds seemed to weep over the death of the bringer of freedom, the man who had conquered fear.
Yet, among the sorrow and horror, he heard nothing. The cries of the big man in pain and the children calling his name fell on deaf ears, as if his existence was nothing more than a phantom of the mind. Despite the pain he felt, he could not recognize it, for neither he nor his suffering bore any semblance of humanity. Before could he realize he cried again.
"haaaaaaaahhah "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa' .
"You monster you killed my daughter, how could you ... "
The mother's anguished wail filled the air, a heart-wrenching cry that spoke of unimaginable loss. Tears falling relentlessly from her eyes, she struggled to understand what had become of her child, her very soul now ravaged by grief. With sharp nails like that of a finely-tended blade, the man seemed oblivious to his violent nature, its deadly consequences all around him.
As the mother's lifeless body collapsed to the floor, her frozen face wore a haunting expression that was brimming with fury, revenge, and hatred beyond anyone's comprehension. The man remained oblivious; his attention still fixated on his bloodied nails."
Walking through the desolate wasteland, his eyes fell upon a teenage girl lying on the ground. Her face was upturned and her eyes were open, yet they were lifeless and expressionless.
Despite the gloom, dark clouds had gathered in the sky, their composer gone as they rained salty tears upon the ground. As he turned the girl's face towards him, he saw that her eyes too were nothing but an empty vessel of despair, her body a cold vessel of pain and sorrow. Could this be what remains of humanity, mere vessels, devoid of life and meaning?
"AAA ...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."
█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █
The streets buzzed with activity, even though the hour had ventured into the late evening. In spots like the café bar, it was customary for folks to gather with their dear ones and savor a couple of drinks after the day's labor.
A sense of liveliness and anticipation hung in the atmosphere, as both strangers and companions chatted their way through the night, enjoying good food and each other's company. The city's vibrant pulse thrived in the night breeze, as individuals either attended to their affairs or relished chosen pastimes.
The silver-haired beauty's slender and pale complexion glistered in the light, her eyes the color of crystal blue, reflecting a veiled tension. Her rosy lips twisted slightly into an obvious and somewhat forced smile, covering up the emotions beneath her surface.
Lilian's waitress attire comprised a knee-length skirt paired with a white shirt adorned with a bow tie, an ensemble that lent her an air of allure. Her presence was captivating, drawing the gaze of numerous observers
"You are truly beautiful, miss, you know that?"
The intoxicated man's eyes flickered with desire as the woman before him maintained a polite smile, subtly attempting to create some distance. His gaze remained fixated on her form as he spoke with a leering grin, "Indeed, your attentive service is a rarity these days, much like your charm."
His attempt to reach for her delicate fingers prompted her to pull back, a subtle unease crossing her features. She cleared her throat before speaking in a composed tone, "Sir, please exercise restraint. It's time for you to settle your bill for the drinks and dishes you've enjoyed."
Wearing matching grins, the two inebriated men lurched towards her, their intentions all too evident. They aimed to transgress her personal space, their hands inching closer to their target.
However, their advances were abruptly thwarted as the bar's entrance swung open. A towering figure entered, possessing a commanding aura that silenced the room's frivolous chatter.
With his crystal-green eyes and a mane of grayish-blond hair and beard, the middle-aged man was an unmistakable presence. Decimus, the bar's proprietor and a warrior of renowned valor in his prime, had found a haven in Ravenwood.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
The two drunkards, their audacity checked by Decimus's arrival, faltered in their tracks. Recognition and perhaps a hint of trepidation danced across their faces as they retreated from Lilian. In that pivotal moment, she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, relief washing over her like a calming tide.
Decimus's footsteps reverberated through the room, the rhythmic creaking of wooden floorboards accompanying his advance. His initial strides were measured and hushed, but a storm of purpose brewed beneath his exterior.
Swiftly, the calm facade transformed into tempestuous action. Like a tempest's fury, he closed the distance between himself and the two unruly men.
With an air of authority that spoke volumes, Decimus seized both men by their collars, a vice-like grip that hoisted them off the ground. Suspended before him, their feet dangled, mere inches from the floor.
Their struggles and protests were rendered futile in the face of his might. The once boisterous pair found themselves in the firm grasp of an indomitable force, their defiance quelled by the very embodiment of strength.
"Sir, we…"
Before a single plea for leniency could escape their lips, Decimus's power surged forth. In a whirlwind of unyielding might, he swung the duo with a brutal force that defied their resistance.
Their bodies became mere playthings, hurtling through the air in a chaotic ballet of helplessness. The room bore witness to this exhibition of dominance, a silent testimony to Decimus's unmatched strength.
Their unceremonious flight culminated in a shattering collision. The once-solid door crumbled upon impact, reduced to splinters and fragments that littered the floor.
A crescendo of noise erupted, accompanied by a cloud of dust and debris that danced in the aftermath of the impact. Every head in the establishment turned, attention arrested by the spectacle.
Amidst this chaos, Decimus's voice sliced through, a resolute proclamation tinged with irritation. "Y'gotta fend off disgusting bastahds like 'em, yer listenin'." His words were delivered with a casual authority, his demeanor a blend of nonchalance and undeniable power.
"Are they even alive?" The shock in Lilian's voice resonated with the sudden shift from merriment to chaos. Her hand instinctively covered her mouth as she stared at the aftermath, concern etched across her features. She couldn't help but wonder about the well-being of the men who had just been tossed around like rag dolls.
Decimus, now seated calmly on a nearby chair, responded with an air of nonchalance tinged with a touch of exasperation. "Ain't nobody dyin' from that. Maybe a rib or two got themselves broken." His words were like a balm, dispelling the rising tension with a hint of gruff reassurance.
The cafe-bar's patrons, still caught in the reverberations of the unexpected spectacle, visibly flinched at Decimus's authoritative demeanor. All eyes were fixed on him, held by his unwavering presence.
In a tone that brooked no dissent, Decimus issued a warning that was as much a promise as it was a command. "Now, listen up, none of you best be pullin' any nonsense with my staff. They're like my own, you get me?" His declaration, punctuated by his unmistakable authority, hung in the air, a reminder that he was both protector and enforcer within his realm.
A sensible tension hung in the air, like a storm waiting to unleash its fury. Each person present, whether seated or standing, was acutely aware of Decimus's formidable presence, their movements restrained as if trying to blend into the background, avoiding any action that might attract his attention.
Amidst this uneasy atmosphere, Lilian, perceptive as ever, chose to interject with her mellifluous voice, a balm to soothe the collective anxiety. "Allow me to fetch your beer," her words held a touch of gentle reassurance, a small attempt to mend the frayed threads of calm.
Decimus, his disposition surprisingly in line with Lilian's suggestion, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, a drink sounds better than reducin' this place to rubble." His words carried a hint of humor, a reminder that even in the midst of tension, a lighter touch could be found.
The room seemed to collectively release a breath it hadn't realized it was holding, the threat of chaos momentarily averted. Yet, beneath the surface, the unspoken understanding lingered – Decimus wielded a power that could reshape their reality. The weight of his influence, a testament to his wealth and authority, hung heavy in the air, a quiet reminder of the line they dared not cross
Lilian extended the beer towards Decimus, the glass seemingly tailored to fit his hand. With an unspoken understanding, he downed almost half of it in a single, satisfying gulp, a glimmer of contentment dancing in his eyes. "Nothin' better than a beer after a-kickin some sonuvabitch's ass, y'hear?" Decimus quipped, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
Arching an eyebrow in mock reproach, he continued, "Ya gotta smack some punks like 'em at times, you see."
Lilian's voice wavered, a hint of self-defense in her words. "I was just about to give Albert a ring."
Decimus barked out a laugh "Nah, the prick must be womanizing or somethin'."
"In that case, he's askin' for a good scolding," Lilian shot back with a wry grin.
"Another round, barkeep!" Decimus hollered, the camaraderie between them echoing through the establishment.
An exasperated sigh escaped Lilian's lips, and a bead of sweat traced a path down her temple, a physical echo of her weariness.
Caught mid-swig, Decimus stole a glance at Lilian. "You don't carry the weight of the world, y'know," he offered, a tenderness underlying his rough exterior.
Lilian's response was a simple nod, an agreement that spoke volumes. The conversation found its own conclusion in that unspoken understanding, a moment shared amidst the lively backdrop of the café.
But beyond the banter, a universal truth lingered – the delicate balance between shouldering others' burdens and allowing them to navigate their own path. Though Lilian couldn't be held accountable for Albert's escapades, life often taught the wisdom of discerning when to intervene and when to let be.
Amidst the café's animated ambiance, a nugget of insight hung in the air, a reminder that yielding control of one's choices could lead to unintended chaos.
Lilian's swift footsteps carried her back to her duties after attending to Decimus, the bar's formidable owner. Amidst the fragmented remnants of the shattered door, her gaze caught a familiar figure weaving through the chaos, homing in on her like a moth drawn to a flame.
The young woman's dress, a harmonious blend of reddish-brown and glimmering gold, seemed incongruous with the tumultuous scene she entered.