The boy - part three (freewrite)

in #freewrite6 years ago

This is the third part of the story. Read the first part here and the second part here.

The boy stood, watching the visitor draw in long, deep breaths, not saying a word. He suddenly had a feeling that whatever awaited him up the stairs was infinitely better than being with this broken man consumed by the darkness.
'Aren't you going to say anything, boy?' the voice asked, eyes staring straight at him. He saw in those eyes that trying to run would be pointless at this point and in his mind, he could already see the visitor lunge at him, dragging him down.
'I'm sorry,' the boy whispered, looking away. He was. The man's story had been so utterly terrifying – like a nightmare, and although the boy was no stranger to living nightmares, this seemed to exceed all he'd seen. The unexpectedness of loss. 'I'm sorry about your family.'
The man in the dark nodded. 'Me too. She would've been eleven now. My little girl. About your age, I think.'
The boy flinched at that, at the raw grieving in the man's voice. He very much doubted his father would speak the same way of him.
'Don't worry,' the man breathed and it appeared in the darkness like something out of a fairy tale, although the boy could not put his finger on it. What it was that made him see this man as...otherworldly. 'I'm not here to hurt you. What sort of justice would that be?'
And the boy ran.
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He heard it in the man's voice. The danger. He knew that when someone said they were not gonna hurt you, you should bolt, 'cause that's precisely what they're gonna do. His father told him that all the time.
I'm not gonna hurt you, boy.
Boy, his father so rarely referred to him by his own true name that it sometimes seemed to the boy he was without a name. His father often told his son that he did not want to hurt him, but somehow, that's what he always ended up doing. His shoulder still bore the marks of last time. When he'd been too slow and, not wanting to give away his hiding spot, he'd had to stand there and take it. He still felt the burning lashes of his father's belt over his shoulder and he still remembered thinking don't look back. The only thing that went through his mind – terrified by the idea that he might glimpse back at his father and lose an eye.
So, he ran up the stairs as fast as he could, but he stumbled on something and his forearms screamed when he connected with the hard steps. He looked down to see the man's fingers wrapped around his ankle.
'Not that way, boy,' he said and the boy feared for the worst, expecting the man to yank him down the stairs. But the man did not. He walked up the steps, scooping up the boy into his arms.
'Don't do that again,' he whispered. 'I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not your father. I simply want to take you.'
'He killed your family,' the boy whimpered, although it was decidedly not a question. He knew it. He'd known from the moment the man began telling his story. He always knew his father was capable of such a thing. That it would only be a matter of time for him.
'He did,' the man agreed, heading into the dark deep of the basement. 'And now, I will take everything from him.'
And then, the boy felt himself pushed through something – a window that he never knew they had. And he looked down into the basement one last time and remembered what it was.
Dragon's breath. The man in the basement breathed fire then pushed himself out, dragging the boy after him into the night.

To be continued

With all the trouble Steemit went through, I missed yesterday's prompt, so I figured I'd incorporate both in today's - 'visit' and 'dragon's breath'. Thank you @mariannewest for hosting this amazing challenge! Check out the awesome freewrite community, everyone!


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Thank you for reading,

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Photo is mine.

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Mabuhay, keep steeming.
@Filipino

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