The Pure Omega (L.S.)

Dreams

Louis felt like his shoulder popped out of his socket from the way his father had pulled him forward. His hand was wrapped around Louis' tiny wrist as he flung him face first into the dusty gravel, embracing for the rough hit of the ground against his whole body. His knees and elbows hurt from taking the most impact, and he buried his face so Louis didn't have to see how ashamed his father was of him.

"Leave him alone. He's only eight for crying out loud! He's even bleeding!" his mothers voice rang through the open air.

"Honey, now is not the time," his father said as he grabbed at Louis' scrapped elbow.

He pulled his son up with force and helped him stand to his feet. Louis' eyes were red with tear marks staining a path down his cheeks, the pain starting to get to him both mentally and physically. A streak of blood was running down his forehead and past his temples, creating a red path down the side of his face. He needed rest, his small body was screaming for it as his mouth hung open and his breathing was too fast to count. He was also thirsty, but they hadn't retrieved any water from the well yesterday morning. They were getting low and he didn't want to use any of it.

"He's not going to learn anything if I don't teach him," Louis' father told his mother who stood worriedly in front of them both.

"Babe, that's no-" Louis' mother was interrupted.

"When we are long gone and Louis is still standing, do you wish for him and Sam to be alone in a world where they know no defense? Should we leave them unprepared for a world that's going to beat them senseless?"

His mother hit his father's arm. "I can't believe you're talkin' like that in front of him. You could scare him with that talk."

"He deserves to know."

"I'm not saying he doesn't deserve to know, I'm saying that he's too young to hear this stuff. He's only eight and you're out here beatin' him around like a rag doll," his mother moved closer to them, making Louis scramble backwards and behind his father.

"He's doing fine the way he is. Right, Louis?"

Louis looked up into his father's bright blue eyes, a sparkle of hope for Louis to agree with him. Only to prove his mother that she was wrong. Louis nodded his head before looking between the two of them, his arms hugging his father's thigh. He heard his mother sigh in defeat, her arms raising in irritation before dropping them back down to her side.

"You're teaching our son how to be a killer," his mom spoke, her voice cloaked in a sad, lost tone.

"No, I'm teaching our son how to defend himself from a killer."

The next thing Louis knew was that he was forced away from his father with a push, only to stumble across the gravel and catch his balance a few feet away. When he was finally stable enough to stand on his own two feet, he watched his father dart towards him in a quick motion, a scream echoing loudly in the air as he ran at Louis.

Louis shot up quickly from his slumber, his breathing in short bursts and occasional coughing. The blanket he had was now at a pool at his waist, making his torso bare and cold as he put a palm over his racing heart. Sweat drenched his whole body and his hair stuck against his forehead in a tight hug. The heels of his palms rubbed at the sleepiness in his eyes as he slumped in his bed. He was a complete mess, but he didn't care.

It was quiet. From the sounds of owls screeching, crickets singing, and the rustle of leaves from rodents outside his tent, he still figured that it still must've been night. He heard no talking or saw any of the sun illuminating against the material of his own tipi.