The Game of Death (Part 1 in A Life Of Hell series)

Chapter 2

I was only seven years old when it happened and I have hated my life since. Nothing interesting has happened at all since then. Me and my brother were out playing in the yard. We were running around and it was getting dark outside. "Boys.... it's time to come in!" my mother yelled.

We emerged from the woods and my mom smiled upon us. That smile turned into a frown in an instant. "Run boys... come on." she said urgently. I stopped in my tracks and thought why she started to frown. My brother, who was at the time running towards our mother, turned toward me and yelped.

I couldn't understand why he was upset now too. That's when a dark figure emerged from behind a tree near my brother. "Cl..." I started but he was thrown into a bag. He kept thrashing around in the bag until the man hit him with a club. That was the last thing I saw before I too, was thrown into a bag.

"Let them go you bastards!" my mother yelled. I jumped when I heard a gun go off. There was a tiny hole in the bag and I peeped through. There on the grass, lay my mother... dead. Then my dad arrived home. "Oh Charles. Nice to see you." said the man holding my brother captive. "No...not you. You weren't supposed to come for another five years." he said.

Another five years. So he knew that this was going to happen. That bastard. He looked down and saw his wife lying on the ground dead. "You...you killed her. That wasn't part of the deal you asshole." he yelled. "You knew we were coming... you knew what would happen if someone got in the way." said the man holding me.

"Give me my sons back... You can't have the..." he started. He was cut off by the bullet that pierced his skull. I thrashed in the bag and managed to fall to the ground. I crawled out and ran to my dead parents. I leaned over their bodies and began to cry. The man who was holding me, walked over.

"Well what have we here? A feisty little one eh?" he said. He leaned down to grab me and I bit his hand. He dropped me but I was immediately picked up by another man and knocked out. That was the last I saw of my parents.

For thirteen years I was raised by these men with my brother. We were raised to fight and serve. I didn't want anything to do with these assholes but I learned that they would not hesitate to kill me, or worse my brother, if I acted out of line. I have seen them do it to other kids they were training as well.

These guys never seemed to eat or care about anything. When me and my brother were twenty they came into our cell. "It's time." he said. They dragged us into another room and spoke in a language no one understood. It wasn't...human. I don't really remember what happened next.

I just remember bleeding...a lot. I remember feeling like I died and waking up with a new strength. I remember looking at my brother as he left me. He turned us into monsters and I was watching my brother walk away. He had no emotions anymore. He didn't care about anyone or anything. He just left.

From that day forth we didn't talk to each other. He will only ever know me as Sebastian. And I will only ever remember him as Claude. Even five hundred years later, we hate each other. I lived a sad and lonely life.

Then I made a contract with a young boy at the age of thirteen, and for better or for worse... everything changed.