TRIBE Chronicles: The Complete Saga

CHAPTER 10 - David's Haunted Past

~David's past memories in his tranced state~
David was trapped in an endless spiral of torment, each loop pulling him back to the moment of his family's demise.

Over and over, the past played out, relentless, unforgiving. But whenever a new cycle began, the grip of memory's horror eased its hold on his conscious mind, lulling him into the deceptive warmth of familiarity.

Once again, it began.

He was unaware now - lost within the vivid reconstruction of his younger self, oblivious to the trap tightening around him.

They had just arrived, stepping out from their family's sleek black SUV onto the marble driveway of their new home.

The mansion loomed large before them, its polished windows reflecting the crimson hues of the setting sun. The air was cool, tinged with the sharp scent of fresh-cut grass and the faint, salty breeze drifting in from distant shores.

The towering estate, with its ornate wrought-iron gates and pristine white stone façade, exuded a sense of wealth and security.

Its manicured hedges, meticulously shaped into perfect geometric forms, created an air of tranquility that contrasted sharply with the storm raging in David's unseen future.

His mother, Ciarah, glowed as she stepped forward, the soft coos of baby Alexa filling the space between them. The gentle rise and fall of her chest soothed her infant daughter, while her warm smile cast a momentary light against the dark fate that awaited them. Her long chestnut hair, loose and flowing, danced in the cool evening breeze, her emerald eyes glimmering with hope and contentment.

Zakael, his father, was all business. His face, hard and chiseled, bore no trace of the joy that softened Ciarah's features.

His eyes, as cold and grey as a winter storm, scanned the surroundings with precision as though assessing every inch of the mansion's opulence. His grip on the luggage was firm, his movements measured and exact. The air around him seemed heavier, weighted by an invisible tension that only David, in these repeated cycles, would come to understand.

David, standing between them, felt the distant hum of unease. His small hands clutched a suitcase, not too heavy, but just enough to feel a part of this grand new chapter in their lives.

Above, the sky darkened, deep purples and burnt oranges bleeding together, a final farewell from the sun before night's full descent.

Each step they took toward the grand entrance felt like crossing into a world that promised safety, wealth, and prestige.

But it was all an illusion.

Behind the thick oak doors and gilded walls, the shadows of their fate were already stirring.

Yet, David was blind to it all, submerged in the calm before the storm, trapped in the nostalgia of what once was, oblivious to the repetitive cycle of memories tightening its noose around his mind.

***

On that fateful day, Zakael called out to his son, David, for one of their regular practice sessions.

The air was crisp, carrying with it a faint scent of earth and water as they made their way to their usual spot by the riverbank. It was a peaceful stretch of land, where the gentle murmur of the river harmonized with the rustling leaves in the trees.