Vermilion

Chapter 19

He opened his eyes and it was still night. Nights were innocuous as it always have been since he was a little child.

A little child.

He was a little child leaning on a fence while hiding under the bushes. The house he grew up in with his parents burnt. The front yard was ruined. The flowers have wilted and stepped on. The place was devastated.

He was there.

The person with that hair and face. The very same person who killed Mr. Thomas and caused the destruction of Haven. The same person that murdered all of the people living in it. The reason why his new life was on the edge of crumbling down. Again.

Why he was here?

Tracing the cloaked figure, he found that the person was holding his father by the hair. Badly beaten, severely wounded, tattered clothing, and unmoving. Is this his memory of his father? The real last memory?

The huge curved blade. It was exactly the same weapon used on his foster father. The burning house ended up the same as Haven. The same person murdered his real father.

He was there when his father was murdered.

His sight blackened and it was suddenly bright as day. The warmth was familiar. The house felt the same. He recognized the kitchen he was in. He was in Stonewall.

Rushing out of the area, he found the cloaked person with red hair leaving the house. He had no doubt that it was the same person that murdered his father, Mr. Thomas, and the servants of Haven. The door shut behind the cloaked person.

What was he doing in here?

The sight on the living area where that person came from made him froze. On the floor, his mother and Grandma Cramwell were lying with the same wounds as Albert. Blood smeared on the furniture and floor. Grandma Cramwell was not moving at all but his mother was still able to crawl towards her despite her bleeding chest.

He moved to help her but the house blazed in fire. He screamed for his mother was still alive. Fire slapped his eyes and he found himself on a sea of fire. People he knew ran about but none seemed to escape the cruel clutches of the fire. And he saw that cloaked person in the middle of the havoc. He stood there undisturbed and laughing amidst the conflagration.

The villagers of Stonewall. The servants of Haven. Mr. Thomas. Grandma Cramwell. His dear mother. His father whom he had told to be killed in an accident. The one responsible for their deaths is that person in cloak with long red hair and blood red eyes. Unforgiveable. He desired the murderer's complete annihilation for his life alone was not enough to sate the hatred he has.

Hell.

He would willingly plunge himself into that eternal suffering if it meant the fulfillment of his vengeance.

***

This young man is a half red demon, a red demon like himself.

From the look on this half's face, he could tell that this is the son of the old man that he should be killing also. But as soon as he set his eyes on him, he felt the longing for his former companions. He thought it to be a good idea if he would release the hidden resentments and closed sorrows from the half's entity. After all, dark shadows of sorrows made them. If this half was the son of this old mortal then a red demon mothered this one.

However, this red half was somewhat different from the blue half he saw before. It felt like he was more than a half. This countenance itched the back of his mind and senses. He could not figure it out yet but there was something that he deemed familiar with this half. And there was also something garnered within this young half.