REQUIEM - [h.p]

Prelude

| 0; PRELUDE |
THE TICKET TO SALVATION

     WHIMPHREY FOUNDLING ORPHANAGE, or "Whimphrey's," for short, was a dismal, colourless facility.

A diamond in the rough, the optimist might say. Though, whether or not Whimphrey's even had the possibility of becoming a more well-rounded orphanage remained to be seen. Most of its inhabitants, both faculty and otherwise, would probably scoff at the mere suggestion.

Perhaps it was a lively, bustling orphanage at one point. It certainly wasn't now. If anything, the only thing left of the original building was its sad, forgotten, and crumbling skeleton.

Money was scarce these days. The administrative representative who would check up on the building, every now and again, was either raving mad or simply didn't care enough to state the obvious: Whimphrey's was no place for children. That declaration never came, however, not once. The Board sat on their plush chairs, drinking wine and feasting on whatever tickled their fancy; they had no qualms in deciding that the cost of the orphanage's decrepit state and the quality of the children's lives were worth their cushy amenities and gourmet meals.

The world was a rotten place, filled with corruption. Those with power dined on the sufferings of the less fortunate.

There was barely enough money to pay for proper food on the table and Whimphrey's itself was in a dreadful condition; The walls needed repainting, and there were countless wooden boards on the floor that would emit an ungodly moan whenever stepped upon. Most likely from all the feet and heavy shoes that ran across them all day long. It was probably the multitude of faults that Whimphrey's had that caused the unsurprising lack of visitors to the orphanage's doors.

From the shabby infrastructure to the burned-out and (depending on the person) even downright despicable faculty members, it was no surprise at all that almost no one ever came to Whimphrey's to adopt a child. The ones who did were nearly always of the self-righteous type. Thinking of themselves as divine saviours, rescuing a child from a cruel fate. It was ironic, considering that they always chose the most attractive younger children of the lot, then left quickly without even regarding the rest of the orphanage's inhabitants.

Edwyn Belmonte was a short and scrawny boy with black slightly curled hair and his eyes were an icy blue that would always dart back and forth with a thinly veiled wariness. An indicator of the harsh lessons that only a bleak reality could teach a person. Typically, those lessons only reached those who were far older, but that was sadly not a luxury any of the children at Whimphrey's were privy to.

While most of the children within the orphanage's walls tended to stick together, much like a close-knit family, Edwyn's childhood was isolated. It was a strange type of isolation that was not borne from loneliness or lack of socialising. No, Edwyn Belmonte was never truly ostracized from his fellow orphans. They let him play their games and were always willing to help when it was needed. Asides from Ernie Beckett, an older child with a propensity for violence, no one ever antagonized him. Though Ernie had disappeared a little over a year ago, and by now everyone had believed that he either ran away or got adopted by one of the stuck up couples. Either way, no one did miss Beckett. He was quickly forgotten, nothing more than a dwindling memory in all their minds.

Edwyn, however, was the infamous wraith within the orphanage's walls. Spoken about and observed, but never really seen nor heard. Sure, he lived under the same roof and sat at the same cramped dinner tables for meals. He was there, and he wasn't. Distant. Though one thing was for certain: there was something indescribably peculiar about Edwyn Belmonte. No one could really explain what it was, it was just a strange feeling that would wriggle around beneath your skin. Something strange and uneasy. The question would often cross the boy's mind if he might have been cast down from some distant planet in the skies. At least it would explain the strangeness that lurked beneath his flesh.