Two horses were galloping in the middle of the night. Behind them was a carriage, an old, rusty-looking carriage. Scars of many fights it saw decorated it along with a raven crest. Crackings of whips were filling the air, forcing horses to their limits. When the night turned its old quit state; an old, two stories building could be seen on the horizon. After half an hour they arrived at their destination, the old house on the horizon. The orphanage of Aldreda the Faithfull.
***
A room illuminated with candles and a fire pit, hosting quite battered looking furniture. Three figures around the fire, only one sitting down; glittering disgust, indifference, and fear in their eyes respectively. Frail voice of a young woman broke the awkward silence, full of fear and uncertainty. "How may I serve you, my lord?" Her eyes on the fat-looking, middle-aged man rubbing her delicate soft hands to each other. The man wearing a robe woven from the finest fabric with a raven crest on it, looks of disgust in his eyes. Not even bothered to look back at her let alone giving a reply. On the other hand, however, the man right beside the nobleman stretched out a scroll with a cold demeanor.
The fear in her eyes grew bigger making it harder to breathe, she gasped for air, " My... my lord are you sure? Is there really some..." A roar silenced her " Shut up! It's not your place to question. Do what is asked of you. Now!" She couldn't utter another word, not even a single breath escaped from her until she left the room as fast as she could.
While she is away, the nobleman finally spoke for the first time, anger emanating from his voice “ Where fuck is that old bitch? I should have never trusted her. Find her as soon as possible and bring her to me. Lets us hope he is still in a usable shape.” “Yes, my lord, leave this matter to me.” said the other man respectfully.
Not long after, the young maiden returned with a boy beside her, around thirteen years old. A cold light shone in the eyes of the boy as soon as he saw the fat nobleman. A fire that has turned into a cinder sparked again, overflowing from his heart to his eyes. A contemptuous grunt follow it thereafter, “ Hmph! You haven’t changed at all have you, you little bastard?” said the nobleman while tightly squeezing his left kneecap. His face turned sour as he reminisced some old memories, he fiercely grabbed the walking cane beside him, standing in furry. “ Firmus grab the little bastard we are done” Without even waiting for the response of his subordinate he walked away limping. The servant did not hesitate even a second, grabbed the boy by his collar and dragged along with him.
***
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Servant tucked the boy into the carriage that they rode to here, disgust on his face. He walked near the horses and the driver to make sure everything was on the track. The boy was sitting in the carriage in front of the nobleman, all sorts of feelings painting his face; anger, frustration, hopelessness. Sorrow shrouding his somewhat skinny, yet handsome face turning it uglier. As the fat man saw the sorry state of the boy, his sour face began to form a wicked simile. “Hmph! It looks like you have changed ha! Not having all that fearless and brave attitude. Good, good that way you’ll be more loyal to me don’t you?” As he smiled he smacked the side of the boy’s head. There was no response from him instead he grew warier and closed in. Seeing the boy grew pitifull in front of him every passing second, the nobleman felt more and more satisfied. But, maybe because of his old age or the fact that he is in some kind of planning, he has failed to notice the little simile on the boy’s face. It was a little simile but filled with wickedness and determination.
It was soon the time to move. When the servant got into the carriage it began to move, breaking the silence of the night with the crackings of whips again. However, a while after they began to move, the boy's expression changed. The simile on his face grew bigger as if he saw his long lost beloved one. Both the master and servant startled from this, but before they could say anything they yet again shocked. The boy bit his own arm, so hard that sound of flesh ripping apart was heard, blood flowing down. With his own flesh in his mouth, his own blood painting his teeth, mouth, and clothes he looked anything but a human chield. He didn’t stop there, however, next with blood flying right into the face of the nobleman he swang his wounded arm, next to the door breaking the carriage’s window. Following that he spat the meat in his mouth. All of this happened so quickly that master and servant could react only after the nobleman tasted something funny, rather metallic.
The faces of the duo were complex, not knowing what happened just. Soon, however, nobleman tasted the blood that was slowly seeping into his mouth. With a rage he slapped the boy across his face so strong that boy’s vision went black, hitting his head on the door of the carriage, rendering him unconscious. Anger was in his eyes, but there was something else another feeling, a tinge of fear in fact. He was the spymaster of this kingdom, he saw many gruesome sights. He was accustomed to blood and gore. But, has he ever saw anything like that? Has he ever see a child this crazy and this unstable? A moment shivering in fear another after tearing his own flesh spraying blood everywhere. A fear started to grow in his heart the moment he thought about this, not because of the well being of the child, but, rather of his own. He was the one that brought him here when he was merely around the age of five. He was the one that paid Aldera, the headmistress of the orphanage, to tame the boy so he could use him in the feature. But now, the boy anything but tamed. Fear in his heart turned into anger. As he wiped the blood on his face he commanded to his servant “ Stop the carriage and find that old bitch and don’t turn back until you do so. I swear to gods if this child went crazy I’m gonna skin that witch alive”
The carriage has long gone from the sight, the night was silent again around the orphanage. However, there was a silhouette standing on the road shrouded in the moonlight, wearing a tattered robe. Only a small part of his face was illuminated by the moonlight revealing boys face, filled with scars and a wicked simile. He removed his hood, shaking his head while sighing. “ Idiot! I could easily find some hair from your bed. You didn’t have to… *Sigh*. Rattail, go get the others. We have some business to take care of” As he finished a skinny boy dropped down from one of the trees around. He was like a ghost, not a sound could be heard from him nor anyone could see him until he dropped down. He nodded to the boy on the road as he ran towards to orphanage while the other boy went to retrieve the piece of meat that was thrown out earlier.