The Forgotten

Prologue

The man stared at his wife lying on the delivery bed as she looked up at him with empty eyes. He wasn't sure what to do, he was frozen in place. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one full of sorrow.
Before the man knew that his body was moving, he was already at his beloved wife's bedside, clutching her hand with tears streaming down his face. "No, please don't leave me," he begged her, pressing his forehead against hers in an attempt to be close to her one last time.
"I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear, squeezing his right hand before her grip goes slack and her eyes glaze over. The man stared at his wife, pain filling his eyes as cool flames of sorrow lick at his heart.
This wasn't how this was supposed to go, this wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to live, he agonized, clutching her hand tightly, praying with everything he had that he would feel her hand warm once more and hold his like it used to.
It was too short, his time with her. They spent years together, but it wasn't enough time. If there was one thing this man wanted more than anything at that moment, it was more time. He didn't realize it before; how short her life would be.
Before he can begin to comprehend the weight of what had happened, he is ushered away into a private sitting area. The man sat on a bench, staring. Staring at the blank, empty wall; staring at what wasn't there; staring at nothing. Not the wall, not the particles floating blissfully in the rays of sunlight filtering through the window to his left, not the tiled floor with black speckles of who knows what on it. He didn't stare at anything, he stared at nothing.
The man's thoughts consumed him, swallowing him like a corruption invading his heart. I could have saved her, he couldn't help but think to himself. He couldn't help but wonder what could have been if they had never conceived; if she had just stayed unable to have children.
"So many 'ifs'," he mumbles to himself, fidgeting with his hands as his mind raced in a flurry of unpredictable waves.
His thoughts were interrupted when a young woman walkd slowly towards him with a swaddle of cloth cradled in her arms. The man knew even before he laid eyes on what was in the swaddle that this was the demon that killed his beloved, his wife.
"What's his name?" The kind woman asked, clearly unsure of what expression to wear on her face. The man takes one look at the newborn who looks so much like himself, a scowl growing on his face.
He must take his eyes off the child, for he could not bear to lay eyes on it. "Hedron," he stated bluntly, not hesitating for a moment.
The woman smiled and handed him the infant child, so he reached out his hands with invisible claws. The infant was laid gently into his hands, but the man refused to look at it. Only when the woman finally left him alone with the infant, the man finally looked at it.
"Welcome to the world, Hedron," the man said with pure and undeniable hatred in his voice as he stared at the infant with hardened eyes. "You cursed thing, you shouldn't even be here."
Hedron was silent. He was infant, he couldn't respond. But somehow, the man just knew that Hedron held no hatred toward his father.

~-------~

One could hear Hedron's screams for hundreds of yards as his father gripped his hair with the force of a hundred men. His father's eyes were dark as he glared down at him, his grip tightening by the second.
"Look at me!" He bellowed, yanking Hedron's head up by the grip he had on his hair. tears were streaming down Hedron's face as he stared up at his fathers' hatred-filled eyes with horror. "You're a killer, Hedron; a monster."
Hedron gritted his teeth, the tears flowed out of his eyes in pools. "I know," he sobbed out, squeezing his eyes tight shut as he desperately held his head.
His father yanked his hair again, slamming his fist into Hedron's skull. "Look at me," his father said through gritted teeth. "You are not to speak," he spits. Hedron bit his quivering lip, trying his very best not to wail.
"Yo-" his father was interrupted by the front door swinging open. Hedron choked out a sob as he laid eyes on his older brother, who had a look of pure horror on his face when he beheld scene before him.
Hedron's brother dropped everything he was holding. "What the fuck is going on here?!" He screamed in horror as he raced towards the pair across the room. "What are you doing to my brother?! What the hell could he have done wrong, he's five!"
"He murdered your mother," their father bellows back, repugnance reeking from his eyes.
Hedron's brother slammed his fist into their father's neck, knocking him out cold. "Hedron," he whispered desparately to himself, stumbling toward his younger brother. Hedron's brother held him close, embracing him tightly with fear-filled eyes.
"Soter-" Hedron chokes as he clutched onto his older brother. The tears flew freely as the two kneeled on the ground, Soter clutching desparately onto his younger brother.
A single tear streamed down Soter's cheek as desparation and rage filled his heart. "I'm sorry, Hedron," he whispered through gritted teeth. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breathing and sobs of the two brothers.

Soter stood on top of a building, the breeze ruffling his clothes as he gazed across the horizon. Just a few minutes earlier he left an anonymous note on his father's bed, stating clearly to meet him on the roof of a nearby sky scraper.
The city glowed gold in the night, the stars barely visible above him. He felt like he was on top of the world, and his smile only grew when he heard the door to the roof open behind him. He didn't have to look to know who was standing there; his father.
"You came," he said with a wicked grin growing on his face. He turned his head around to glance over his shoulder, his dark, wavy hair that desparately needed a trim flailing in his face as a powerful gust of wind blew south. "I wasn't expecting you to actually come."
Soter's father rolled his eyes, his hair just long enough to flow faintly in the wind. His pale old face distorted into disgust as he glared at his eldest son. "Wasn't expecting to see you here, Soter." He spat his name like a foul poison, balling his fists up at his sides. Soter's father wasn't muscular, but he certainly wasn't overweight either. If he wanted to, he could beat a grown man to the ground.
Soter turned around fully, his hair flowing into his face as the wind picked up again. "I bet you weren't," he cooed, glaring into his father's eyes. "Tell me, father," he continued, stalking forward with a hand behind his back. "What did Hedron do last night that required you to beat him like you would a grown man?" He asked as the grin on his face turned serious, his eyes pouring hatred.
His father didn't know to respond, backing up a step for every one Soter took towards him. Soon, his back was pressed against the wall with his son only a hairs breath from his face. "I don't know," he grunted out stubbornly.
"Oh?" Soter breathed. "Then why did you do it?" He asked again, quieter this time; more threatening. A clicking sound rang through the night from behind Soter's back as his hand crept up toward his father's head to grip his hair.
Soter's father winces as his hair is used to yank his head back. "Because that demon killed my wife," he roared, fury flaring in his eyes.
Soter slammed his father's head into the wall behind him, then yanked it back so it was mere centimeters from his own. "It wasn't his fault," Soter growled through gritted teeth. A muscle twitched in his jaw as the look in his eyes turned to that of undeniable rage.
"Yes it wa-" a cold metal pressed up against his father's head.
"Say. That. Again," Soter threatened with a loaded gun pressed to his father's head. The world was silent for a brief moment, not even the wind dared to sing.
"Hedron. Is. A-"
Bam.
Time froze as blood spilled across the wall, the floor, the gun, and Soter. His father's eyes were filled with betrayal as his body slumped to the ground, dead. Satisfaction filled Soter's eyes as he smiled wickedly down at his father's dead body. The warm blood on his hands and face felt comforting to him, a symbol of his and his brother's freedom.
"Good riddance," he grinned, and the world spun back into motion around him.