Ingenuous Revenge » L.S

Prologue

A shaky reflection of teary eyed boy was seen on the shiny surface of the sword by the moonlight pouring in as his hands trembled. The erratic pumping of his heart could be heard, while tears flowed down from his blue eyes which had turned red from the excessive cries.

"Do it Louis!" the voice of his father boomed in the ominously silent dark room, which had gone colder by the passing time. The young boy visibly jumped almost loosing his feeble grip on the sword.

"I .. I c-can't. Please just-just let him go! I'll - I'll practice harder. I'll do anything you want. Father, please don't make me do this ..." One is left with no choice but to beg and plead when forced to unwillingly kill an innocent, who's only harm was to love him.

"For god sakes, Louis! I'm doing this to make you better! Stop your childish antics now and do as you learnt to!" his father glared at him with a threateningly eeriness lacing underneath. Louis looked down with blotchy cheeks, hiccupping in attempt to control his sobbing, at the old man in his father's hands holding him firmly to avoid his escape, not that the man was protesting, in fact providing Louis a better access to slit open his throat.

"P-please try to un-" Louis tried his utmost to convince his father to retrieve back his order. His form could almost collapse under the fatigue he was enduring of pressure and sure indecisiveness put upon by the this sadistic demand.

The actual murderer being his father was now more angered than annoyed. An obvious knowledge of convincing his 11 year old son who was gifted in the art of swordsmanship to his first kill was going to be anything but facile. But, Master Tomlinson was a monster in disguise of a black heart and had a wearying time left for patience. "Louis William Tomlinson slit the damn throat or I'll make sure yours will be next!"

How sickening was the realism of his father having little to no remorse in proving his ultimatum true. He looked at his childhood caretaker, who just smiled at him as if his death is not fazing him much. Maybe it couldn't, not when you know there is nothing behind valuable enough staying for. This wasn't even arguable seeing innocence strip off a boy who will grow up to be not something worth witnessing. The old man just closed his eyes and Louis remembers how it used be a surety of everything been okay, but he was convinced otherwise.

With his eyes closed, he tried to block the image of his childhood caretaker who in a way comforted him throughout his grief and now lays in front of him ready for a merciful assassination. He slowly raises his shaking hands and lung it forward with all the energy his little body could muster at the only person who he loved and truly loved him back.

The loud screaming of the man soon ended and Louis's heart stopped beating. He felt nothing as the bloody knife slipped from his fingers...

He went numb and just walked away to the lake, not even bothered to see the proud and content look in his father's eyes which is what he desired since the age of four, when his training began.

When he looked at the reflection of himself, face and arms splattered with blood of an incorrupt, he broke down.

His vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes and he tried his best to clean himself, but no matter how much vigorously he rubbed, the blood never seemed to go away.

You lose a part of yourself when a loved one dies, a loss of purity is experienced when you view a kill and your sanity is taken away in an successful attempt at murder. What happens when all these three are rolled in one?

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"I-I'm tir-ed .." Louis leaned against the tree struggling to keep his eyes open, his vision filled with blotches of green and black, realistic images blurring with splashes of his slowly going unconscious mind.