Born of Blood

Intertwined

Furniture strewn across the room. The dining room table was broken; picture frames shattered. Ears echoing with the sound of squelching. There she sat covered in her parents' blood. White hair-stained crimson eyes capturing the moment in front of her. Engraining it into her mind like a brand.

Hanging loosely was a birthday banner, on the floor, swimming in the pool that was the blood of her family were remnants of her birthday cake. Four candles, unlit and floating. Her voice could not be captured, blurred vision staring at the lumbering man who had not been invited inside her home. Body covered in muscles, face splitting with a horrid grin while his hands pounded downward onto the corpse of her father turning flesh into pulp.

Eyes tearing away she glanced downward. Her mother's eyes looked at her face. Blood leaking from the gashes that covered her skin. Hand marks remained on her neck.

Death was not swift.

She was strangled to death.

Even know she could hear it. The struggle kicks of her mom, the clawing at the grasp. Nothing had worked against the larger man's overwhelming strength. She had no idea as to why she remained alive. At any opportunity the man could have snapped her neck like a twig, yet he just continued to brutalize her father's body.

Why the man targeted her family? Why did he come on her birthday? So many questions yet none answered. The small whimpers that came from her mouth subdued, the tears that dripped down her face joining the pool of blood that she sat in. Minutes which felt like hours passed before the room fell into an almost complete silence. She dared not to look up, hearing the wet squelching as the man's feet drew nearer.

She waited, feeling a hand grasp her head, pressure being applied at the finger tips. The fear that overcame her body was unimaginable and in that fear her entire being screamed.

She didn't want to die.

.

Yorha's eyes opened with a startle. The room she found herself in unfamiliar, almost entirely pitch black. The young girl's cheek pressed against an all-white pillow, slightly moist, tears having leaked from her eyes during her slumber. Her chest, her heart, thumped rapidly, having a nightmare of that day. With a shaky hand she began to wipe her tears only to stop.

There was a noise. It was faint but clear. Turning over with the shuffling of the white blanket layered over her did she saw the cause of the noise. It had only been a few hours since they were introduced, since he had become her partner.

Other than the door, the only other thing in the room was the other bed. On that bed was Jack. Feet kicking at the sheets below him, back pressed against the corner while his non-broken arm covered his face. Eyes searching the room rapidly. It was as if he could not stay still, as if the bed itself had become a sense of discomfort. Breathing rapidly and air sucked through gnashing teeth.

Yorha watched the panicked struggles of the boy, eyes capturing every moment, watching as the white shirt became red and wet with small patches of blood. She did not move until Jack had stopped his own movements.

Jack's searching eyes found a place of rest. His own capturing Yorha's. Emerald staring at blue grey. Bloodshot capturing tear-filled. His struggles stopped, rapid breathing calming slightly, muscles loosening. He watched Yorha's right hand move, palm facing upward toward the roof, the girl giving a light sniffle. Her gaze never left and neither did his.