A Mere Child {Sebaciel} ON PAUSE

Prologue

The heat made him melt, but he only kept running deeper into the mansion. The flames licked at his small feet and made the wallpaper curl and crumble into black dust. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, his eyes blurred with fear and tears.

He wiped his face with a soot covered hand as he ran into the main living room. His father sat in his big chair by the fireplace as if there was nothing wrong. Slowly, his father turned to face him. Only, it wasn't his father, not really. A quarter of his mother's face was stitched clumsily onto his father's.

He let out a scream, but it was cut off as hands covered his mouth and grabbed him. When he woke up, it was cold. He coughed as he sat up and smeared more soot onto his face as he wiped the blurriness from his eyes. His eyes clear, he looked frighteningly around.

He was sitting naked, locked in a huge steel cage. He ran to the bars and clung to them, reaching for the people in their luxurious clothes and masks. He called out for help, but they only laughed and cooed. More masked people ripped him out of the cage and splayed him out on a stone table. He looked around with big terrified eyes at all the people sitting around him laughing, whispering, pointing, watching. He cried out to them for help and squirmed against the hands that held his body onto the cold table.

It was a stadium, and he was the show. Suddenly, a man appeared at his feet with a cattle brand in hand. The brand glowed red and orange. He grew frantic and twisted and turned, trying to break free. The men holding him flipped him over and pinned him to the table.

The brand melted his flesh. The same scorching heat of the brand hot enough to singe the wound shut. He yelled out in pain, and the crowd cheered. The show had just begun. They whipped him, beat him, burnt him, stabbed him, abused him, threw him into the cage, and repeated it all the next day. Day after day, he was their show. Hour after agonizing hour, his pain was their entertainment.

He eventually lost track of time and how many times they had used him as their toy. He had gone through so much, so many times, he had begun to lose fear and emotion. He did not know anymore if he was losing his sanity, or if he was losing himself.

One night before the show started, once more, he called out. The room flickered with shadows created by a few lit candles. With his last bit of sanity, he called out for help once more. But he didn't call out to any people, he had learned those monsters would only watch his torture and laugh.

So he called out once more, but he called out to a demon.