Antichrist

See No Evil

He wakes up to light.

He blinks furiously as his eyes flood with tears. He has gotten used to the darkness that even with the candle's light so meager, it takes him a few heavy blinks to adjust.

The first thing he notices is the candle at the center of the room.

Then he notices them.

A few feet away from him, there is a child chained to one of the stakes. A little boy with short black hair and pale skin that shines in the dark like illuminated paper lanterns. He wears a pristine white robe that leaves his tiny pale feet uncovered.

He stares ahead, allowing Richard's gaze to linger for a few more seconds. It doesn't last long. As if he senses Richard's gaze, he turns his head towards him and meets his eyes.

The little boy's gaze takes his breath away- he has large round black eyes that silently but meaningfully probe. Richard immediately feels as if he's being x-rayed. The boy's stare silently judges. Silently... observes.

It almost feels... creepy.

That is... until the little boy grins at him.

Richard is caught off guard, causing him to abruptly avert his stare. His heartbeat suddenly increases, robbing him of the last of his breath. He stares at his hands, which are trembling. He shakes his head and turns away from the little boy, his attention focusing on the other occupant of the room.

He finds himself staring at striking twin brown orbs.

The pair of eyes that meets his, belongs to a young woman whose striking features are evident even though the owner herself looks lifeless. Her long brown hair hangs limp around her shoulders like swing-less tan curtains. She wears the same white robe that Richard and the boy wear, but hers is long enough to cover her feet.

The woman's gaze doesn't waver. Richard finds himself unable to retract his.

"Ah. Attraction is fatal."

Both of them turn towards the little boy, who's alternately looking at the two of them, the grin ever present on his face.

Richard clears his throat. "Who are you?" he asks, directing his question to both of the new occupants in the room.

The young woman stares back at him, but doesn't say anything. The young boy sends him a chilling smile that freezes his insides.

"Of course you don't know," the boy responds, his tone obviously mocking; an antithesis to how young he is. He speaks like a grownup man who has witnessed unspeakable things that even Richard hasn't experienced.

But what do I know? Richard finds himself asking. I don't even... remember what I know.

He woke up with nothing but the memory of his name.

"Because you are not supposed to," responds the boy, making Richard twist his head towards him.

"How did you-" Did you just read my mind?

The smile on the boy's fall as if it hadn't been there in the first place.

"You don't need your memories here, Richard," he says tonelessly.

Richard wants to respond with another question; to ask how the hell the little boy knows his name. And what the hell he means by his words. But for some reason, he finds himself silenced by that gaze.

The boy looks away from him and goes back to staring ahead.

Richard follows his gaze.

It's when he realizes that the boy is staring at the door.