Lying in Darkness

Chapter 1

"Sir, would you like more cream?" The young man glanced at his butler warily. "Why must you ask again, I've already said no," he said with loath. His servant quickly apologized as he got ushered away. The man took a long sip of his tea, savoring the smooth taste. A demanding voice interrupted him, saying, "Damon, hurry up or you will miss your photoshoot!" Damon glared up at his mother and stifled a scoff. "Yes, mother," he said in what almost sounded like a growl. "Don't use that tone with me, child, or something bad will happen." The elder woman left the room and the 19-year-old set his drink on the jewel-encrusted table and went to his room to get ready.

Damon walked out of his room in a fancy silk suit, the cerulean contrasting perfectly with his pale complexion. "Urios," he called, and the bantam butler quickly appeared by his side. "Do my tie," he commanded, "and make sure it's perfect." The servant used his thin fingers to put his master's silk tie into an elaborate knot. Damon peered in the mirror, making sure nothing was out of place, before nodding at the boy beside him, dismissing him. He scurried off, and Damon smiled at his work, running his hands down his suit to get rid of any wrinkles. Then with a sigh, he sashayed out of the room, a forced smile gracing his pale face. "Mother, I'm ready!" Damon called, walking towards the large garage. He hopped into one of the many expensive cars he owned and waited a mere two minutes before his snobbish mother started the car, a soft purr filling the soundless space.

An hour passed, and then two. Another, and the poor boy was so tired he had to apply more eyeliner and concealer to cover dark circles forming under his eyes. Finally, the photoshoot was over and he could leave and get rid of all the powder covering his face. As soon as Damien got home, he treaded to his room with long, tired steps. He threw himself onto his bed and swiftly fell asleep, unaware of the atrocities that were happening downstairs.

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〰Red and orange flickering lights filled the small home, and smoke came with them. The fire spread rapidly, but the married couple did not sense these things. Rafters fell all around the poorly built house, and one of the large planks of wood covered the heads of the two. A small spark from a short circut had jumped onto the bearskin rug they had fought so hard to obtain,and from there it spread. The living room, the kitchen, then the bedrooms; everything was destroyed. The 13-year-old boy came back from his friend's birthday party to his hone, but it was now an ash heap. He cried, but not from the smoke. Wailing filled the air, but not from sirens. He had lost not only his home, but also his only family. That day, he went from being rich in relationships to only having three people who cared about him.〰

As soon as his friend saw him, she knew something was wrong. "Hey, are you okay?" the girl asked, a worried look on her face. The boy did not say anything, a disturbed expression etched into his features. "It's about your parents, isn't it? Ryan, listen, that was six years ago. You need to make a future for yourself, not live in the past." Ryan then looked up, small tears forming in his eyes. "How can you say that? You have a family. You have a home. You have things you can call yours. I don't! I have to live in a run-down orphanage where the only thing I can call mine are the clothes on my back." He then turned on his heels and walked away, not wanting his closest friend to see him cry. "Ryan, wait!" his friend called, but the boy paid no need to him.

He ran, ran just like he did on that fateful day, he ran. Ran from the pain, ran from the memories. Ran'till he couldn't see. Ran 'till he couldn't breathe. Ran 'till he couldn't run. Ran 'till the setting sun.

He stopped, taking in his surroundings. Around 50 yards in front of him was the ominous gate that separated the Voiceless Ones from the Syndicate. He quickly fucked into the underbrush, not wanting an outcast like him to be seen by the rich, evil society beyond the gates. As part of the Voiceless Ones, or the VO as they're commonly called, it would be normal for him to "go missing" this close to the border. He was one of the few ones that left unscathed.