Young John sat in the silence. He was the de facto leader. He needed to be the one to answer the question.
"We're here to play a game."
John pointed to himself.
"I'm a knight."
He pointed to one of his siblings.
"You're a witch."
"You're a wizard."
"You're a wizard."
Wizard, Witch, Knight, Laser Poet. Everyone had a Role.
"We're trying to fight the evil lord of smelly socks. His name is Soake Man." Said John
And so they began.
John and his Group of thirty allies embarked on a journey to fight the Soake man.
They tore down Sock wiverns and decapitated sock goblins.
They played in that fantasy world for hours. It lasted for so so long.
And then people's tummies started to grumble.
John jumped to the side. He barely avoided the sock sand snake that dove for him.
"I'm hungry."
And then John was back in the cellar.
John turned his head to the sound of that voice. Standing a bit away from John was a boy who was shorter than John himself. He wore black pants and a black shirt and had a pale face.
The rest of John's siblings were staring at him. If John remembered correctly, his name was Tanner.
"We just have to tough it out. Father will be back soon." John said
He nodded.
"Okay."
John was confident that The Father would be back. He loved them. In all his life, John had never seen The father get mad at anyone. He was an endlessly flowing well of kindness that John loved from the depths of his guts.
"Now. Let's get back to fighting the Sock monsters."
John dodged to the side and swung the blade into the neck of the sockworm.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
While he was doing this, John's brother sent a ball of fire towards another sock monster.
They cut through the field of sock snakes that swam through the sandy field with ease.
After they cut through those sock Worms, they moved on. They were nearing the sock king's lair. They couldn't stop now.
"I'm hungry." And then John was back in reality.
This time, it wasn't Tanner who was calling out.
It was a girl with brown skin who wore a baggy tracksuit. She had an ugly frown on her face as she looked at John.
"We just Have to wait. Father will be back soon." John said.
"Will he?" Questioned a small boy who was dressed in a suit.
His name was Greg, if John remembered correctly.
"You guys heard what he said, didn't you? Only one of us is worthy of being his spawn. The one to leave the room. That's what he said, and he isn't feeding us. It doesn't take rocket science to figure out what he wants from us. The one to survive. The one to live when others die. That's the winner."
John looked at Greg. He could feel the hatred boiling over inside him. The bubbles were popping and sending bursts of gaseous fumes into the sky.
"Do you want to kill us?" John asked
The hurt expression appeared again on the boy's face.
"N-no…."
"Then why are you saying the only way out is murder," John said
"Yeah." Seconded another member of the group
"You're a murderer, aren't you." Said a third member
A dark cloud fell over the children. Their faces were cast with shadows of hate.
"Murderer." Murmered a member.
And the chanting began.
"MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER! MURDERER!" The children marched towards Greg. Their teeth were gnashing; their jaws were tensing.
They looked like animals.
Greg shuffled back as the children marched towards him. Greg's face was pale, and his eyes were watering.
"MURDERER! MURDERER!"
"I'm not a murder!"
"MURDERER! MURDERER!"
His screams were drowned out by their chant.
*THUMP*
His back slammed against the wall. He looked at his siblings. Hate. Hunger. And a strange sort of lust. A look that should never be in a child's eyes.
Greg opened his mouth to scream. And a hand slid down his throat. It ripped a piece of his throat from him.
That piece was then eaten.
And then another piece. And another. And another. Greg squirmed and bucked and twitched, but no matter how much he struggled, no matter how hard he tried. Greg was trapped. There wasn't going to be any way out.
And soon Greg was just bones and suit.
But the children were full.
The room was immersed in a profound silence.
Not a sound could be heard.
The same thought was running through everyone's mind.
We just killed somebody
To end a life is supposed to be a universal taboo. And they had committed that sin. Greg. Their brother. Someone that many of them had known since they were born. And now he was dead. All that as left was his bones.
Are we the murderers? John couldn't help but think to himself as he looked at Greg's mutilated body.
John turned to look at his siblings.
"Where were we?"
"I think we were just marching on the sock lord." Said one of the kids.
John nodded
"Yes. That's it."
And so they marched. The sock lord was only a few feet ahead of them. All they had to do next was end the lives of the sock guards. The sock guards were horrible beings. They stood at a tow———
"HONK!"
John's head snapped up to the sound.
Floating in the air above them was The Father. He had a large yellow trumpet on his lips.
He began to play a song.
It was a slow, sad song that spoke of grief and loss. Tears welled up in John's eyes.
An aura of red began to grow around the man. It grew brighter and brighter until John was almost covered in the light.
"29 more."
The cellar was covered in an aura of red light.
The father was gone.
And the cellar was covered in streaks of red.
Greg was right.
A sick sense of guilt filled John. Greg was right. Greg was right, and they had killed him.