Angel of Darkness (DARKNESS #1)

V

Warning: Chapter contains mentions of suicidal thoughts.

Two years later
Asteaia, Lysithea
Unnamed

    Now twelve years old, the bandaged boy's life hadn't changed much. He still lived at the very same orphanage, still seen as a disgusting, burdensome, monster. Despite the years passing, the child remained in the darkness, solitary. Bitterness and misery began to wear on the young boy. He resented being born as this disgusting creature. He knew he was a monster, and no-one could ever love a monster.

    The boy yawned, stretching his aching body. Standing, he rubbed his back, his fingers dancing over the scars that lay there. His punishment for being born this beast. The scarred child hated being chained to his dismal existence. Because that was what the boy's life was... simply existing rather than living. The young boy blinked his cimmerian eyes, only to see the cool darkness of the room, and the grittiness of the hard concrete floor. Groaning, the boy rubbed an ache in his arm, his body up, and recalled what day it was.

    Today was the day that all the other children would be broadcasted in the great room, to potentially get adopted. Erebus knew how it worked, year after year more children would be adopted and he'd be alone, stuck down in the basement. He had always been confined to his 'room', but the door was always boarded up on adoption day. He never knew exactly why, but deep down he had an idea.

His face.

    He had worn bandages over his repulsive face for as long as he could remember. No-one would want to look at a face like his. The only interaction he would seldom get would be from his cruel peers' or the orphanage staff. They enjoyed tormenting him and watching him suffer. It was all his fault, he was born this ugly and unlovable.

    The scarred child could hear the sounds of heavy shoes and heels upstairs. He longed to be up there. Up in the light, instead of dwelling in the darkness. Perhaps his entire existence wouldn't be so miserable then. But the boy knew there was no escape. He could run, and hide, but there would be no escaping his face.

    His only escape would be eternal darkness. His escape would be to never wake up again. The boy wondered what that would be like.

    The bandaged boy stopped and sighed. A tiny part of him wondered, maybe there was someone who could love him, despite his monstrous face. From his experience, it was foolish to hope. Hope hadn't helped him when blows rained down on his body. But a tiny voice, one he could not contain made him question, "what if?"

    Maybe there was someone upstairs who could love him. Someone, anyone at all who could love him, even with his disgusting face. The scared boy knew he wasn't allowed to go upstairs, particularly on days like today. The noise radiating through the building had to mean one thing... adoption day. The boy knew he was not to go upstairs. After all, Lady Celia had threatened him with a punishment if he did, which was "worse than his foolish dull mind could ever conceive."

    The fear of punishment was not strong enough to suppress the quiver of hope and adrenaline that ran through the young boy's veins. Despite being warned to not ever remove the bandages from his face, he found himself unwinding the large covering. Feeling the fabric fall to the floor, and the rush of air against his skin, he smiled.

    The scarred boy climbed up the rusty old staircase, hearing the chatter of people, the voices of both children and adults. It was a sweet sound, and not one he had the pleasure of hearing often. Most of the time, he just sat in darkness and silence, alone.

But maybe, he could find a family. Maybe, he could find someone that could love him.

    He stood in front of the door as a trickle of fear ran through him. His hand brushed the copper knob as he slowly turned, expecting to hear the lock. Instead, he was answered with a click, and the door swung open. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door as Erebus shut his eyes instinctively. Inhaling, he opened the door the rest of the way, his heart pounding in his chest. Stepping into the hallway, the boy heard the soft flutter of voices.

Following the sound, his bare feet padded softly on the floor.
    "The King's assistants visit next week, no? I'm sure he'll be impressed with this upstanding institution, and our King will be pleased. Not that we shall even hear from him, the bloody pretender," a voice spoke. King? The scarred boy's mind flickered back to the Princes and Kings in his old fairytale books, then instantly shunned the thought. Those happy endings were mere fairytales.

    Erebus stood in front of the door, hearing the flurry of voices in the room. The coos and murmurs of praise echoed through the door, filling Erebus's mind with hope. They were the words that he had wished, for so long to hear about himself. It was the love he had desired for longer than he could remember.
    Erebus's heart thudded deeply in his chest as he inhaled deeply, palms sweating profusely. It was the greatest risk he could ever take, to risk being seen as he truly was. His fingers felt the cool metal of the handle as he turned it to the left. The door creaked open as the young boy stepped into the room.

    Horrified screams and obscenities greeted him. They didn't seem to come from any one person but built on one until they drowned out any quiet in the room. The sounds rang in the child's ears, as a chill feeling washed over him, plunging him into an abyss of despair and hopelessness. The scarred boy stood frozen, his eyes widened, breaths ragged and harsh. The ringing screams vibrated in his ears as the boy watched the peoples horrified and disgusted reactions. It shattered any shard of hope that remained in him.

Perhaps eternal darkness was the only thing that awaited him now.

    Tears trickled from the child's beautiful eyes, dripping down his face. The boy threw open the door, rushing away from the room and the endless screams and profanities. Greeting him on the other side, was Judas and his band of lackeys. "Well, well. Looks like you understand that no-one will ever love you, Monster. It finally made it through your puerile brain," Judas sneered, the boys behind as the scarred child cowered back.

    The child's mind was a dizzying cloud of darkness, as his last ember of hope had finally been snuffled out. He ceased his crying, understanding that Judas was right. He was unlovable. The child didn't try to stop the older boys as they stepped forwards, as he stood silently, the occasional tremor plaguing his body. Judas smiled sinfully and cracked his knuckles, swinging his arm back. Just before his fist could hit its mark, the scarred child pushed past his tormentors.

    Running to the door, he yanked it open. The wind howled as the young boy ran into the cold winter's night. Adrenaline coursed through the child's veins as he ran further and further away from the orphanage. His eyes welling with tears, all but freezing in the cool air.

    There was no escape from the screams or judgment. The young boy darted out of the orphanage, into the dizzying madness of the snowy streets of Asteaia. But without fail, everywhere the child went, the profanity, and obscenities followed. Townsfolk yelled after him, cursing, praying and screaming. Their voices rang unceasingly in the boy's ears. There was no escaping. Tears slowly danced down the child's face, becoming icy droplets as he began to run through the snow, his bare feet red and burning.

    "Love. Never," the child whispered to himself, his body shaking with cold. There was no point carrying on with his miserable existence. No one would ever love him. No one could love him. After all, who could love such a disgusting monster? The boy glanced at the dark woods surrounding the town. The tall, unyielding trees shrouded out all light as the wind howled through the leaves.

    The scarred child peered into the forest, unsure. He had overhead Lady Celia and the other children discussing the words several times over his pitiful twelve years, and each time the horror never left their voices. No-one who ever entered the western woods ever returned alive. But then... the voices, the disgust, rang in his ears.

"No-one will ever love you, Monster."

    Shaking from the tears pouring out of his eyes, the boy slipped under the fence, ignoring the pain stinging through his bare feet. And he ran. Deeper and deeper into the forest, until the voices stopped. Until he could no longer see the town of Asteaia. Until the black dimness of the western woods surrounded him, shrouding him in darkness.