The Runaway

Chapter 1: The Angel

A/N: Hello! Thanks for stopping by to check out this story! Though, before you continue reading, please be sure to be aware of what's in this story! I'd hate to expose anyone to things they are uncomfortable with! There will be warnings above each chapter! Enjoy!
Warnings:
-blood, gore
-swearing

Blood.
A trail of it freshly splattered across the greenery of the forest floor. It's scent intoxicated the smell of fresh flowers and newly grown sprouts. Besides the dark maroon splashes that stained the ground, the day was bright and the sun brought out the life of the forest.
Birds began to rise from their nests and fly through the treetops. Rabbits and squirrels scattered the ground to frolic in the shrubs. The light steps of deer could be heard with the crunch of leaves.
The morning was perfect.
Well, except for the fact that it looked as if someone was murdered here.
Jonas leaned down to inspect the trail, letting his finger brush the grass. A small drop of blood stained his caramel skin as he noted that it was still wet.
A pit of worry found its way into his stomach as he rose and looked towards the trail. It led deeper in the forest, winding around trees to the point that Jonas could no longer follow it with his eyes.
He hesitantly began down the trail, fear bubbling up in his gut.
What could be out here? He didn't remember that blood trail being here last night.
Maybe it was just a hunter? He'd dealt with those before, just quietly avoiding them and warning the animals of the forest.
What if this wasn't a hunter though? What if it was somebody trying to hide a body? Was there a murderer on the loose? Had they retreated to the forest to escape the soldiers wrath?
Jonas' worries only grew larger as he walked further and further, his feet dampening with dew.
Flecks of dirt stuck to his feet, going unnoticed because of the mess of freckles that were permanently engraved into his skin.
Jonas finally came to the end of the trail, finding that it led to his small creek.
Jonas walked to where bamboo met the waterfront, stalks of it rising over the slowly moving water. 
He slowly peeked out from behind the greenery and his eyes widened at the sight.
What he had not expected was exactly what was before his eyes.
A man, tall and lanky, laid sprawled out on the sandy dirt. Blood drained from a gash in his chest and stained the water red. It pooled around his body, the amount of it making it look like he was long gone.
Jonas' face paled as he rushed to the man, dropping to his knees to inspect the wound. As he got closer he realized quickly that he was much younger than he'd originally thought. The reason Jonas has guessed he was a full grown man was because of this boy's height. He was easily six feet tall though his slim weight made him look taller. He looked underfed and a pang of guilt overcame Jonas  as he inspected his face. Just as he looked to his face, he caught the man looked at him with heavy eyes.
He screeched, jumping back and falling on his butt as he watched the boy. His eyes were cracked slightly, inspecting him slowly and carefully until a smirk made its way onto his face. It was a toothy grin that made his cheeks heat for only a second. Jonas looked on with confusion as the boy just closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the ground with a thump.
His eyes widened and he jumped forward immediately, grabbing the boy's head to look at his face. His face had relaxed but his chest still rose up and down to a slow rhythm.
Jonas sighed in relief, looking down   with a softer gaze than before.
He had to help him. Now that he knew he was alive, he couldn't just leave him out here to die.
Though, was it really the best idea to bring a stranger to his house and to take care of him? He could be dangerous...
Why would he be out here with a stab wound through his chest if he hadn't done something bad?
Jonas looked back down to his face, the same face that smiled at him while he was on the brink of death.
He stood up with another sigh and began to use vines to bandage him up.

It had been like any other morning, waking up in his bedroom to the smell of dirty garments and cheap wine. Except for the fact that seconds after his eyes had cracked open, Mitch was being dragged out of his house by soldiers. Dozens and dozens poured into his small home, grabbing him as if they were handling a deer carcass, and throwing him into the dirty streets.
He landed with a loud thud as dirt filled his mouth and nose, making it into his lungs quickly and making him cough. He looked up, eyes still weary with sleep to see soldiers looking down on him with looks of disgust. Though they were nothing compared to the man that stood with them, a smirk on his face as he looked down at Mitch. A fire burned in Mitch's chest as he got up quickly and lunged at his stepdad. The man simply stepped back as four soldiers grabbed Mitch, bruising and cutting his arms with their armor. He still fought against them, huffing and grunting as more soldiers came in between them. By this time, neighbors were coming out of their houses to investigate the whole scene.
"Fuckin' nosey assholes" Mitch cursed under his breath, watching them peer around the crowd of men.
A soldiers voice suddenly boomed over everyone.
"Mitch Mueller, guilty of stabbing his father two times."
Mitch growled under his breath and picked out the soldier from the crowd and spitting on his shoe.
The man didn't even flinch as two more soldiers rushed over and tied a piece of fabric across his mouth.
At this point Mitch gave in trying to escape and just watched the man in front of him.
"That is you, correct?" The man said, looking at him sternly with a cocked eyebrow.
Mitch only squinted his eyes further, giving the man a deep look of hatred.
"That's him alright" the soldier said, walking away with a flick of the wrist.
Mitch heard a sharp sound from behind him, metal scraping against metal. The noise was strangely familiar to him and he didn't even have time to think before a sharp pain  blossomed through his gut.
"MMMMMMMMMmmph" he growled through the cloth as he looked down to his own stomach.
The tip of a sword poked through his gut, his own blood dripping from the tip.
He felt the owner of the sword pull it out of him, painfully slow.
More pain made it's way through his whole body as the sword came out of his body and he was shoved to the ground.
Blood poured from the gash and was soaking into the dirt as he looked up at the soldiers.
"Leave him and let everyone see what his doing earned him" he heard his stepdad say.
Soon enough he watched the evil man glare down at him, giving him a good kick before stalking off.
Mitch groaned, not even daring to clutch his gut so as to not get blood all over him.
A thick sweat coated his forehead and a whine escaped his mouth, low and desperate.
"...fuck..." Mitch cursed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to push himself off the ground. The pain only got worse and he stumbled back down onto the ground.
His breathing was heavy though his breaths were jagged and inconsistent.
He would die right here and he'd only done the right thing due to their circumstances. Jesus fuckin' Christ this shit was insane.
"Fuckin' dumbasses not doin nothing bout that bastard..." Mitch grumbled, forcing himself to get off the ground. He clenched his teeth and ground them together, his head pounding and blood dripping from his abdomen.
He had to leave quickly or they'd throw him in jail and he'd never see his mom again.
No fucking way was he staying here anyway with that bastard on the loose.
He got up and clenched his front tightly, groaning and starting to move forward. He followed the road that led out of his small town, throwing dirty looks at any snoopy neighbors that decided to pay him any attention.
Blood dripped from his wound and got on his hand, making it wet with the sticky substance. Surely there would be a blood trail but at this point Mitch didn't care.
As he stumbled down the trail, the amount of houses became sparser and the amount of trees increased. With every step, he was closer to freedom, or as far as he could get without dying. His breathing was getting heavier every second and his vision was beginning to get blurry. That's when he fell, his body collapsing on the old dirt path, his legs refusing to go any further. He huffed and pushed himself up quickly, against a tree, grabbing the cracked bark for some kind of stability. He rested his whole weight against the tree and looked away from the trail and into the forest. The greenery looked quite promising and untouched by people. He began stumbling weakly through the woods, hitting a tree every time his body decided it wouldn't cooperate and finally coming upon a creek.
Bright sunlight streamed through the canopy and into Mitch's eyes and he winced. The streaks of light blinded his weary eyes and made him stumble down onto the ground, sandy dirt coating his bloody hands.
He coughed as he sank into the soft dirt, finally accepting that this was where he'd die.
This was it for Mitch Mueller. He'd had a pretty shitty life but it was what it was. He'd at least done something that was worth his while. He'd stabbed that dumbass that had beaten his mom. He'd had it coming though and at least now that dumbass could remember him and what he could do.
Mitch sighed out and closed his eyes, finally giving into body's needs.
It felt as if death was toying with him and he wished it would finally just take him away from this shit world.
Just as his mind was turning blank, his ears picked up a noise. A noise so silent he thought he'd made it up himself. He cracked his eyes open as far as he could and couldn't believe his eyes.
He must be in heaven because he was seeing an angel.
A boy with caramel skin and soft cheeks was staring down at him. The boy's face was scattered with freckles and soft black curls framed his face. He had no sharp edges anywhere on his body and it made Mitch want to hold him to just enjoy the feeling his plushness.
But he really must've been in heaven because protruding from the boys back was 2 silky wings. The sun shone down and seemed to shine right through them, exposing patterns and swirls of green. Why the hell was his ass in heaven? He thought he of all people would have a one way ticket straight down to satan's lair.
As he looked upon this spotted angel, the boy looked up to his face and squeaked in surprise. He fell back, his wings perking up in alarm. Mitch smiled as much as he could at the boy, a blush making its way onto his face.
At least his last view would have been a good one. He watched the boy continue to stare at him as he finally let himself fall away from life.