The Devil's Descent

Chapter 2: Before Time Had its Way

Chapter 2: Before Time Had its Way

A long time ago-I'm picturing a time before time had its way and left the Red Eyes waiting-our dreary castle was just as dreary but a million times more lively. And I'm aching over a family that I have pictured so well I can actually bring myself to miss them. Here they are now-

"Hahaha! Matty! Matty, you can't catch me! Ah-!" A brunette girl slams to a halt against a dark stone windowsill. Her cinnamon colored eyes seem to sparkle in the sunlight with pure, unadulterated Envy.

"What is it, Estella?" huffs a raven-haired boy as he catches up with the girl. Neither can be more than ten years of age.

"Look," Estella thrusts her finger out before her, "He can go outside without an adult! I'm jealous. Why's he crying? That boy has everything I want!"

"You say that about everything, Stell...He seems so sad. I should tell John," Matthew murmurs, face twisted into a frown that's more bothered than worried. Outside the dreary castle, a brown-haired, silver-eyed, scrappy-looking boy is weeping as he crouches in the dull, grassy clearing around the building. He suddenly gags through a sob and clutches his arms wildly to his chest. His eyes burst open, and he shoots into a standing position upon hearing the groaning of the entryway's massive doors. Whereas before he was nearly hyperventilating, he now seems to have stopped breathing altogether. Back at the windowsill, Estella is staring at clouds while picking at the stone, bored.

"Baal, is it? Are you alright? I remember seeing you here once. You were just a baby. Your father had you then. Where's your mother? Last I heard, you were going to live with her," a middle-aged man with dark hair and dark eyes questions Baal.

"Dad, is he supposed to be here?" Matthew whines at the man.

"Seriously, John, kids don't just show up here," another man-with lighter eyes and a strange, black tattoo around his neck-asserts. The small boy remains steadfastly quiet and rigidly erect, resembling a startled rabbit more than a child. Back at the doors, two men are standing with confused expressions on their faces. The younger-looking one has green eyes, chocolate-colored hair, and the same tattoo as the man speaking to John encircling his upper, left ear. The older one is tall, blonde, and blue-eyed.

The green-eyed man suddenly stands up straighter, glaring. "Is that blood?" he asks. John quickly crouches down to the boy's level and reaches out a hand from which the boy immediately recoils a step. "I'd take it easy with him, John," calls the green-eyed man, turning away he grumbles, "He's got a wild look in his eyes." As his doorway companion departs, the blonde man remains lounging against the doors with an air of Patience that would calmly wait out the end of time. Again, John reaches out to the boy, but this time cooing: "Baal, right? My name's John, and this is Anhel," he gestures to the lighter-eyed man nearby, "It's okay, now. No matter what's happened; now, it's okay. Will you let me take a look at you?" The boy has already begun to shake his head before half of John's words have been said.

A perfectly unemotional, dull look overcomes Matthew's features. "Dad, you should go tell Her about this. She'll want to know." The boy is still shaking his head. John stands, sighing, and then smiles as he turns to Matthew and wraps him in a Greedy embrace.

"Alright, Matthew. Go play with your sister, now. I'll see you later." And John disappears inside like the green-eyed man. Anhel gives Matthew a disturbed but speculative look before retreating into the woods with a grunt. Patience remains lounging in the doorway.

"It's over, now. No matter what's happened; now, it's over. Will you accept that?" Matthew questions the boy. Tears well up before a silver background, but now the boy holds out his hands. They weep crimson as the tears spill over. Matthew turns his head away as though the cuts are sensitive to scrutiny and begins to rush inside. "It's over, now, Baal! Remember that and look ahead!" he calls over his shoulder as the shadows of the building engulf his small form.