Alcohol.
The first smell that Ezekiel had learned to recognize.
First, from when Geoffrey came home late at night. Stinking of the venom that made him go berserk and thrash his wife for all he was worth. Second, from Zeke's mother, who spent nights drowning herself in the same venom that had caused her body to swell up with bruises from her husband.
Ezekiel pinched his nose hard. He could never get used to the stinking odour. Being huddled in the dark closet only made it worse. He couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. Nothing apart from the distant scampering of tunnel rats in the overhead pipes of the rundown dingy apartment in the city hovel he had spent six years in, ever since birth. The squalor and poverty were all he knew since he was little.
He almost gagged as he was forced to take a deep shuddering breath from the crippling fear that was now mounting on him. His mother had told him to hide. And he couldn't find any other place than this closet which was as safe as an open casket. He took shallow, fast breaths. His eyes were trying to scan the dark in vain.
Small for his age, he had managed to fit into the lower shelf of the tiny cupboard. His sole companion in the wooden wall grave were the empty beer bottles. Innocent now. Even though their contents had wreaked havoc.
He took another rattled breath, his heart leaping into his throat as he heard a loud bang on the front gate. He could hear shuffling as his mother rushed towards the door, opening it. Ezekiel held his breath. His heart was beating like a drum, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
Soon enough, his core froze when Geoffrey's menacing voice thundered. "You fucking bitch!"
A tear escaped his eyes as he heard a strangled cry. No preamble. No warning. Geoffrey was on his mother like every day. He huddled deeper into the closet. Hating himself, hating the man outside.
"What the fuck have you been doing?"
Geoffrey's yell sounded again, and through the darkness, Ezekiel could see the demon's face in the eye of his mind. His wiry brown hair on his receding hairline. Beady black eyes, vile. Insane with anger. Spit flying out of his thin mouth over canine-like teeth.
A chill ran down his back as he heard a loud bang, the door shutting. The sound outside told him what was to happen. Instinctively, he gripped the amethyst ring hard in his little fingers. He knew how much his mother had adored it, he would never let it be taken away.
"Geoff-'' His mother's voice called softly, trying to reason with him. "If you will just listen-''
Her words were cut off in a scream as tears started streaming profusely down from his eyes.
Little sobs that made his whole body rack escaped his mouth. Her scream was turning into a grunt of pain as he spoke to her. No longer yelling but growling menacingly. Ezekiel couldn't hear what he was saying, but each second made his blood turn icier.
He heard another cry and the sound of flesh on flesh. Ezekiel felt like throwing up. He lifted a hand to the door handle, his tiny fingers trembling uncontrollably. His mother had asked him not to come out of his hiding place. No matter what happened. Another cry echoed off the mossy walls, and a strangled cry escaped his throat. But he didn't open the door. Didn't come out.
He hugged himself as the torment continued. His face a camouflage of sweat and tears. He felt sick to his stomach. He was terrified to his core. The terror quickly turned to unfathomable horror as he could no longer hear the stifled sobs of his mother.
He heard footsteps shuffling hurriedly towards the room where he was hidden as the light was flicked on. His heart threatened to jump out of his throat as the devil walked towards him. He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to do something. Anything. Rather than sit and wait for what was to come. He balled his fingers into a fist and dug his nails so hard into his palms that he felt the cool metal leaving its impression.
The ring. He had to save it.
He reached up onto the top shelf and slid the ring inside. The metal was sliding on the cement as it settled deep inside the shelf. And then his heart stopped. Silence fell. A deafening silence so deathly and still that he could hear the sounds of the crows cawing outside creating a cacophony.
The blood in his veins turned to pools of ice as the door flung open.
Ezekiel looked up into the deranged, bloodshot dark eyes of the one man he was most terrified of. His face a mask of fury, over what precisely, he would never understand.
"Come now, Ezekiel. I just want to play."
He reached a clawed hand towards him and pulled him out roughly. Ezekiel gulped, his heart beating somewhere near his throat. He remained quiet, terror filling his insides like venom gushing in to fill his stomach from punctured wounds caused by claws of the demon.
It was better to stay quiet. For his screams only seemed to elongate the nightmare into anguished infinity.
He reached half-heartedly for the shelf, trying to hold on to something, knowing he wouldn't succeed. His hand brushed against one of the empty bottles on the topmost shelf, smashing it to the floor with a terminal crash.
The terrifying sound was amplified by the ragged breaths and the blood that came afterwards.
The sound of the glass breaking.
And then, oblivion.
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Amethyst 1. Inception ✓
FantasyEzekiel Joziah Hunt is the last Descendant of the Stars. As the bastard son of the King of Evimeria, he was shunned by his Grandfather Andreas when he was a small child and forced to rip off his supernatural powers. Seeking sanctuary, Ezekiel moves...