A Remaining Podeshire 1

Chapter 1 (Part 2)

     The sun has fully set on the horizon as the moon ventures and glows in the night sky. The stars shimmer brightly and glitter like specks of dust in the sky, while there is only odd silence with the stridulating crickets in the vast grassland. Then, the breeze blows as cold as ice and sways grass down.

     An hour has already passed after the last gunshot echoes across the land. The only person who survived the attack was none other than Oliver. Oliver never stood up as he fell asleep on the floor under his lifeless brother's body.

     Soon, Oliver's eyes gently opened. His senses returned as his skin felt the cold wind. Oliver slowly erected from the floor, scratched his eyes and faced his head towards the front door.

     Oliver's glance lowers, and he spots his lifeless family. With tightened lips, his eyes glisten in tears as his brows furrow. He kneels to the floor, then gently shakes his family members, one by one, hoping they respond. However, there are no responses or short breaths from them.

     Oliver's tears begin leaking excessively, overflowing onto his cheeks and dripping to the floor. As he stands up from the floor, Oliver wipes off the tears on his face with his wrist. His eyes wince shut as he passes through the corpses without peeking. Once he reaches the porch, he quickly hops down the steps.

     The pressure inside his mind rises and becomes a burden on his back. Oliver cannot think about what he should do anymore. All he can do is run and call for help.

     Oliver hurries to the city, his tears dropping from his cheeks. He whimpers at every step. He then pushes the tall, sharp grass off his path, wounding his fingertips along the way.

     Soon, Oliver finally reached the city with slight cuts on his fingers and palms. Upon arriving on the concrete road between massive buildings, Oliver immediately collapsed to his knees. Gasping for air, he panted on the ground as his eyes screwed shut.

"Hey, kid. Are you alright...?" a guard asked in concern.

Another guard stepped forward and said, "Wait, he's... Oliver... Oliver Podeshire!"

"Please! Please! Help!" Oliver cried as he squeezed one of the guard's legs. "My family..."

     Without hesitation, the guards called for more troops from the same street. They all responded and came quickly, gathering around Oliver. Oliver then pulled one of the guards' hands—a queue for them to start moving. As they passed through the city gate, bystanders watched them head to the dark, unlit grassland.

     Soon, Oliver and the guards reach the grand mansion of the Podeshire family. The corpses by the entrance instantly send a rippling shock to everyone's spines. The foul blood starts dripping down the steps, attracting an abundant swarm of flies.

     The guards have their eyes wide. A moment of disbelief falls upon them. One of the men then grabs Oliver and places him on his back, obscuring the scene from Oliver. Meanwhile, Oliver closes his eyes and burrows his face on the man's legs, wishing not to see his family's corpses.

     Afterwards, Oliver finds himself quiet inside an opulent office with the mayor. While sitting tightly on a chair, his glance remains on the ground, hesitating to create eye contact. Instead of uttering a word, he silently stares at the wooden floor with his hands between his legs.

     The mayor's welcoming presence gradually calms Oliver with his benevolent smile that reflects his carefree weight. His hair is like a mix of wood and ash while whitening like the clouds in the day sky, and his eyes are dark as coal. Light wrinkles underline the pale beige skin of his face.

     The mayor dons a navy blue tailcoat under an azure blue waistcoat and trousers paired with black boots. A white cravat tie wraps around his neck. And a sash drapes across his left shoulder and right hip.

     Slowly, the mayor rises from his seat and sits on a chair next to Oliver. Still staring at the floor, Oliver gulps nervously. Then, a soft, calm voice reaches Oliver's ears.

"Everything will be alright. I am here for you... I'm Frederick, by the way, but you can call me Fred," the mayor, Frederick, introduced himself with a warm smile, trying to comfort Oliver. "How about you? You're Oliver, right?"

"Hm..." Oliver then nodded.

"Oliver Podeshire. Is it fine if I ask you a question?" Frederick asked.

Oliver nodded once again. "Mhm..."

"Are you the only... person... who survived...?" Frederick inquired.

"Yes..." Oliver answered with a shaking, low and mournful voice as he stared at the floor.

"I'm so sorry for your loss..." Frederick responded as he gently patted Oliver's back. "In that case, I suppose I must bring you to the adoption centre."

"Okay..." Oliver nodded lightly.

     As trust replaces bashfulness, Oliver slowly makes eye contact with Frederick. Their eyes lock on one another. The both of them then smile at each other.