The Missing Children (#OnceUponNow)

Memories Remembered, Pasts Revealed.

     After I almost passed out I realized I can't do anymore. I've done this for as long as I can, and I'm unsure how long it was and if it even did anything. I checked his pulse but I can't feel anything. I cursed and unsteadily stood, pulling him up with me. Dear lord, I'm too weak for his weight. Screw it. I threw him over my shoulder, pushing myself to the extreme to try to escape the captivating music. I burst through the door, causing a scream from the now four children in the corner. The carpet is now soaked and mud-caked, as are the three of us from our adventure in the rain. I slammed the door shut and locked it, hoping it blocked out some of the sounds, the rain pounding on the roof helping to dull other sounds. I gulped some water from my bottle and dumped a bit on myself then on James. I caught myself before I started cursing in front of young kids. Too young to understand what's going on.

     "S-stay h-here. D-d-don't - don't move." My teeth chattered as I checked James's vitals again, the children scared in the corner. The cold had seeped into me from the frigid pouring rain outside. I screamed, sending my fist onto his motionless chest. I stood, freezing as I heard the music through the door. He's close. Too far for the kids to hear, but I can. Adrenaline rushed through me, anger bringing my blood to a boil. I pointed at the kid soaked with the rain. The one without any disabilities. "You. Watch him, try anything to wake him up, ok? He was just a little tired, so he fell asleep. I just want him to wake up, I could use his help. Ok?"

     "O-ok, s-s-sir." The child who looked to be about 6 or 7 stood and quickly made his way over. I knelt in front of them, hugging them tightly before standing upright again.

     "It's ok if he dosesn't wake up, he'll be fine. I promise." I had tears running down my face as I forced a smile I hope isn't broken. I can't tell these kids there's a high chance he's dead, and there's nothing any of us can do. Berkly's lips are already purple and he's paler than he usually is. I can't do anything else anymore for him, so I have to save those kids. I have to.

     "Ok mister." He grinned and everything just...broke inside.

     I have to save those other kids. 129 kids. The four that haven't been suduced by that sound are still in that one room building. I nodded, managing to keep my composure long enough to make it outside. As soon as the door shut I launched my fist into the wall, shattering my hand. Blood ran down my hand and arm but I don't care. I dropped my hand to the side as pieces of brick fell to the ground. I took a second to stare at the dent while pain filled me. It made my senses sharper. I turned and ran, away from my colleague's corps and to the sound that triggered his death. The Pied Piper is the one to blame. He may not have directly killed him, but he is the one at fault. Rage filled me as I raced through the wet muddy forest, jumping over logs and sliding through the sleek mud.

     As the hooded figure came into sight the music worked it's way into my mind, trying to take hold. I bit my lip as my broken hand formed a fist, sending a bolt of pain through me as I fought off the tendrils of the hypnotic music. It's the 26th of July in the 21st century, this should be impossible. I managed to reach out and touch him but as soon as I did my mind split open and memories flooded in.

     I've lived for hundreds, thousands of years. I've seen many die, some deserving, some not. All this time I've been chasing one being. I grew up in 1284 in the small town of Hamelin, Lower Saxony, Germany, when I was still human. In my early childhood, all I remember is being victimized by a plague of rats that almost desolated our town. At the age of 6 a man visited. He was known as the Pied Piper. He ushered the rats out with a simple tune that made us all happy and joyful, hopeful for the future that will show us what it means to live. The mutant rats followed him out like a sea of biting teeth and talons. Apparently the town had promised him money then went back on their word. In retaliation, the Pied Piper returned a year later to the date. He wandered up and down the streets, playing the tune and summoning us all to be in his creepy choir following behind him. After we leave the town we were thrown into a gladiator-like arena. We, young children, were given real weapons and forced to fight one another to the bloody death.

     Those memories were blurred with the color of crimson. I found myself standing in the middle of the massacre. Everything is drenched in blood. I hold a sword bigger than me in my tiny hand, the blade stained with blood. It would take years before what I'd done would hit me. Me,  now a 16-year-old are surrounded  by the bloodied corpses of my friends, all the children that's been taken with me. It was a massacre. On that second, I made an oath. I will find the Pied Piper, and I will make him pay for what he's done.

     Over the next centuries, I tracked the traces of that monster, and I finally found a lead in the 21st century only to be ripped from my  unaging immortality and thrown into a normal aging life. I'd never needed glasses and I developed asthma and allergies due to the sudden change in my body and brain. My memories were wiped and then as the years passed I found myself an FBI special agent.

     Now I am again immortal, unaging. And finally, I've found him. The Pied Piper. And finally, I get to kill him. His existence will come to an end.

     His crimes. They're about to come to an end.