A soft wind drifted throughout the village as a boy treaded through the short, patchy grass. He held a bucket full of water which swayed side to side with each step.

  Rays of sunlight shot into the ground like divine spears. There were no clouds, only the faint hum of the stars that passed ages ago.

  “Ahhh.” The boy exhaled, chocolate skin shining as sweat dripped off his forehead. Muted orange eyes sparked in the sun.

  “After I help my mom with the dishes, I’ll finally be able to hang out with Itha.” He smirked, chuckling silently like he already won in life.

  As he approached his house—he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Was it the wind? Or…something else?

  “Feels weird.” He muttered to himself.

  He ran, the gate swung open, he stopped just inches away from the door. It was creaked.

  Just enough to see a peek inside.

  But nobody ever just ‘intentionally’ left the door creaked, let alone unlocked. What followed was a metallic odor. Seeping out as if someone lifted a lid off a plate.

  “Mom?” He whispered.

  No answer.

  He hesitated, placing his hand on the door handle. It felt too warm. Somebody was just here. “Dad? You there?”

  Still no answer. Until—an almost silent sob reached his ears. “That’s it.” He told himself. The door swung, banging against the dusty wall.

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  Then he saw it. The bucket slipped out his fingers—spilling all over the porch. The sound of the metal hitting concrete still lingered in his ears.

  His breath hitched––backing up instinctively. Fresh blood splattered on the wall. His eyes darted. Their favorite table broken, split in half in a clean cut. He looked towards the kitchen—cabinets wide open, glass shattered on the counter.

  “No…” He started hyperventilating, eyes shooting around the room. There was no corpse in sight. He pushed himself into the house—even when his mind couldn’t finish registering what maybe just happened.

  “It’s just a possibility. Maybe there was an intruder that they got rid of…right?”

  He checked almost everywhere. Bathroom. Office. Bedrooms. Nobody was there.

  “Dammit!”

  Where’s dad? Where’s mom? His mind spiraled, until—he reached the living room.

  He froze. His mom lay motionless in the corner, arms restrained by unworldly technology. Ropes? They looked weird. Open cuts strewn all over her skin.

  His dad wasn’t there. Did he chase after them? Was he taken?

  “Mom…” The boy stared. Trembling. Hot tears poured off his eyes as his face scrunched, teeth grinding against each other. He shook his head—nails digging into his palms as clenched into a fist.

  “Shukan.” A voice purred from behind him. Soft. Stoic. Final. But it was all too familiar.

  He creaked around, eyes wide—tears still dripping off his chin. He paused. “…Serai?”

  Silence.

  Shukan analyzed her. Frayed, messed, emerald and ivory hair. Blood tinted her hands— clothes were in perfect condition—but did it matter?

  “Wait a minute…!” Serai started—her hand extended towards him.

  But he was already dashing away. Out the house. Out of now. He was stopped as he came out of the door.

  His feet didn’t even touch the grass.

  Nyxirian Guards. Everywhere. Circled around the house—boxing him in. Weapons were held tight next to their hips.

  He threw his hands in the air, “I-it wasn’t me!” Shukan tried backing away—but it was seen as attempted escape.

  “Don’t let him get away!” A guard in the front said, blasting forward—spear reeled.

  They swarmed him from every corner.

  They dragged him by the collar across the ground, his feet kicked in struggle, hands trying to release the pressure off his neck. “P-please!” He coughed—welling up the last of his consciousness.

  The last he heard was chains clicking around his wrists.