Innocence in cold blood

†Intro†

The screams and laughing and crying and the shouted pleas and the sounds of breaking bones was all the child could hear.

The smell of burning wood and flesh could be smelled, while the ashes covered the air and the ground of where houses used to stand and the children and the sick that were hidden there.

The men that came to the village had already left, but they also took those who they didn't kill. Men, women, teens and children that were found.

The child, still hiding under the rumble that,fortunately, did not crush him under the weight, was afraid to get out and end up finding to see the aftermath of what those men did.

The sun was setting and the sky had an orange pink hue to it. The smell was faint and the ash had settled to the ground completely when the child had come out of his hiding to see if there was anyone alive and to see if he could find food.

He was mortified to what he found, the ones that weren't burned to the bone were shredded beyond recognition, others were cut open from the stomach to the neck, with their insides showing and their blood, now dry, covering the ground under them and on their clothes.

He walked up to every fallen house to see if there was anyone alive, he called out and looked but there wasn't anybody that wasn't burned, shredded to pieces or cut open.

He then stopped in front of what used to be his home, he fell to his knees and cried  and screamed. In front of his broken home were is parents, his father lying in a pool of his own blood with his back opened and his spine and other organs pulled out to be seen. While his mother was mildly burned and her stomach to neck was cut opened and her blood pooled under her and as her  insides were pulled out to be seen, some next to her and others were just hanging on the side of her stomach but were burned as well.

The child cried and weeped until he couldn't anymore, he just sat there staring at the wreckage in front of him, not knowing what to do. Not knowing what he could do.

The child, no older than 8, looked trough the rumble of is home and took what was useful. He left the day after, not looking back to what he left behind.

‡ Hello. This is short, but I think this is a good start to the story. I took the rest out, I'm still working on it. Welp, that's about it. Until the next chapter my pudding stealers, ヾ( ~▽~)ﾂ bye~ ‡