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Vinproo had entertained himself with things of that nature all day. He had teased a little girl with a bug, made the wind create designs in the sand, and drew water up from beneath the surface--which tired him quite a bit--before he quit for the day. He made it back to his resting spot just as his parents arrived.
“Hello mother, hello father!”
They greeted him with tired grunts and began to climb the stairs to their room. He followed them up, and when night time came, he said his good nights and went to bed like all children in Jivtor were supposed to do.
Vinproo did not sleep well that night, however. In the middle of the night, he heard someone messing with their door. He rolled over groggily to see identify the sound. A gloved hand covered his mouth. He struggled to get away, but it was no use. He saw several people, everyone wearing black cloaks that hid their faces. They grabbed him and bound his hands and feet. One of them produced a foul smelling cloth from within their cloaks, and they pressed it over his mouth and nose. He looked at his parents, who were standing just behind the group, and tried to plead with his eyes. They only watched, looking slightly amused. Then the darkness took him.
When Vinproo came to, his back and arms were sore. He felt of his wrists and cringed at the rope burns he found. He sat up and looked around. He was in the middle of nowhere. He spun in a circle, but all he could see all the way to the horizon was sand dunes and a few scrubby brush patches.
I need to move, he thought to himself. He didn’t know why, but he knew he needed to walk. As he walked, he heard something rustling. He walked faster. The rustling, like something crawling through the sand, continued. He walked faster, and faster, but the sound just kept coming. Suddenly, something had his foot. He went down hard, smacking his face on the sand. He looked to see what had him. He had his foot in the mouth of a skull of a wild animal. The hollow eyes stared at him, peering into his soul. He shrieked and raced off. He ran blindly, tears flowing down his cheeks in rivers. As he ran, he thought of the kids in the village. Had they known what was going to happen to him? What about his parents? They hadn’t acted worried or surprised at all. He ran until he collapsed in the sand, exhaustion filling his every limb.
From behind, he heard the something coming toward him. Rage filled him. He was tired of running. Let them come! Then, he crossed his legs, closed his eyes and focused on slowing his breathing. Suddenly he could see everything. He saw a mouse as it was killed by a desert fox. He saw the wind as it picked up a bug and threw it a few yards away. And he saw his stalker. It was a boy from his tatbio. He knew the boy, and knew his name…what was his name? Oh, well, it didn’t matter. The boy had a weapon, and he must be dealt with.
With a precision that would have startled any grown man, Vinproo tore the boy apart, staining the sand with his blood. He found a perverted joy in it, a sense of wonderment as he learned how the body worked. Beyond anything else, he learned he liked killing. It made him feel free. The boy was helpless, under his control, at his mercy. It was an amazing feeling. Then, the rush as he felt the boys life expend. Oh! There were no words to describe the feeling. He had to have more.
A lot more.
“Hello mother, hello father!”
They greeted him with tired grunts and began to climb the stairs to their room. He followed them up, and when night time came, he said his good nights and went to bed like all children in Jivtor were supposed to do.
Vinproo did not sleep well that night, however. In the middle of the night, he heard someone messing with their door. He rolled over groggily to see identify the sound. A gloved hand covered his mouth. He struggled to get away, but it was no use. He saw several people, everyone wearing black cloaks that hid their faces. They grabbed him and bound his hands and feet. One of them produced a foul smelling cloth from within their cloaks, and they pressed it over his mouth and nose. He looked at his parents, who were standing just behind the group, and tried to plead with his eyes. They only watched, looking slightly amused. Then the darkness took him.
* * *
When Vinproo came to, his back and arms were sore. He felt of his wrists and cringed at the rope burns he found. He sat up and looked around. He was in the middle of nowhere. He spun in a circle, but all he could see all the way to the horizon was sand dunes and a few scrubby brush patches.
I need to move, he thought to himself. He didn’t know why, but he knew he needed to walk. As he walked, he heard something rustling. He walked faster. The rustling, like something crawling through the sand, continued. He walked faster, and faster, but the sound just kept coming. Suddenly, something had his foot. He went down hard, smacking his face on the sand. He looked to see what had him. He had his foot in the mouth of a skull of a wild animal. The hollow eyes stared at him, peering into his soul. He shrieked and raced off. He ran blindly, tears flowing down his cheeks in rivers. As he ran, he thought of the kids in the village. Had they known what was going to happen to him? What about his parents? They hadn’t acted worried or surprised at all. He ran until he collapsed in the sand, exhaustion filling his every limb.
From behind, he heard the something coming toward him. Rage filled him. He was tired of running. Let them come! Then, he crossed his legs, closed his eyes and focused on slowing his breathing. Suddenly he could see everything. He saw a mouse as it was killed by a desert fox. He saw the wind as it picked up a bug and threw it a few yards away. And he saw his stalker. It was a boy from his tatbio. He knew the boy, and knew his name…what was his name? Oh, well, it didn’t matter. The boy had a weapon, and he must be dealt with.
With a precision that would have startled any grown man, Vinproo tore the boy apart, staining the sand with his blood. He found a perverted joy in it, a sense of wonderment as he learned how the body worked. Beyond anything else, he learned he liked killing. It made him feel free. The boy was helpless, under his control, at his mercy. It was an amazing feeling. Then, the rush as he felt the boys life expend. Oh! There were no words to describe the feeling. He had to have more.
A lot more.
5 comments:
A baddie in the making here? Very interesting.
Whoa, creepy kid! Children with power and no compassion are the scariest villains. Just keep him away from me, ok?
Hmm. I was thinking it might be a rite of passage thing -- that's why his parents were smiling. But maybe it's something else...
I'm with Jean--I was thinking it was all planned for the boy, like a survival type thing. Then whammo, he's killing somebody! He sounds like a very frightening, terrific villain!
Thanks for the compliments guys! I'm glad you guys like it!
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