Hawk Point *ON HOLD*

Chapter Three: Song Du Mort

The forest is the one place Aven can go when he needs to sort through the labyrinth of complications called his mind. It's just that there is something about the peaceful stillness of the trees and the rays of light escaping between branches that brings him a sense of comfort. It's ridiculous though. Who he is...what he is...he doesn't deserve comfort but dread. He shouldn't feel confusion but certainty.

At this point, Aven's life appears completely screwed over and it is because of that damned Christian Hansen. Why do the memories of the dead constantly taunt him in his waking moments? And seeing Christopher raises his level of anxiety and though Aven refuses to admit it, it is no different then seeing the dead body of Christian, lying on a bed of leaves, his wrists bound behind his back...

The forest deosn't really seem to be a safe haven anymore. People died here because they wanted to know more than they can handle.

 ~~~~~~~

When Cif goes downstairs, she sees Christopher sprawled across the couch in a lazy position. His form is slouched but his face looks angry; his brows are drawn forward and over his eyes in frustration, a scowl is decorating his lips...His eyes are distant from behind his glasses, staring accusingly at the wall.

"Is everything okay?" Cif inquires hesitantly. Christopher jerks his head back, blinking as if awoken from a deep slumber. A brief flash of confusion sweeps across his features before he fully processes Cif's question.

"Oh, yeah, everything's fine." Christopher replies dimly, adverting his eyes from Cif. They lock onto the floor and he sends it a look of pure intensity, almost as if the oaken hardwood is the most interesting thing in the world. Cif gazes at Christopher through half lowered eyelids, giving him a look of doubt; he is a terrible liar.

"What's wrong?" Cif tries to make the question sound casual but instead it comes out as accusing. When Christopher pales, she knows that whatever is bothering him is far from casual; it looks like the blood is draining from his face slowly and agonizingly. Christopher begins to fiddle with something in his hands and Cif catches a fleeting glimpse of silver.

"Nothing." Christopher's hands still and he wraps his fingers around the mysterious object, concealing it from sight. Curiosity blooms like a warped flower within Cif as she begs her eyes to see what is in the man's hand; to find out what he is hiding.

"If it's nothing, than you can tell me." She says in retort. There it is again: a second flash of silver.

"If it's nothing, then there is nothing to say." Christopher's voice sounds detached to Cif's own ears; lost and melancholy, almost as if he is in a dazed state of mind with only a feeling of utmost despair in his heart. "Maybe you should go outside. Explore a little. Maybe uncover a few secrets and mysteries---" Cif can feel her head snap into an upright position.

"What did you say?" She asks. Christopher's hands fall uselessly onto his lap like a puppet whose strings have been cut in the middle of a show.

"Nothing..." He replies.

Cif becomes tempted to throw her hands into the air in utter disbelief but instead all she says is, "I'm going outside."

~~~~~~~

Cif can't manage to wrap her head around the fact that Christopher has been acting strangely since her encounter with that boy at The Judgment Day Cafe. He seems more tense, almost as if he is a coiled spring ready to let loose. Twigs snap like gunfire under her feet and Cif becomes aware of not  what she is hearing but what she isn't hearing. There are no birds chirping, no whistling of the breeze through the trees, no animals scurrying across the forest floor.

Then she sees it. It is so well hidden that she almost passes by it completely: a group of crumbling tombstones. Some that look like they have been here for centuries while others appear to be at least a decade old.  The one nearest to her could possibly pose as a more recent addition, with only small fractures in the stone. The words are etched deep into the rock:

July 27th 1979-October 31st 1997

CHRIS V. HANSEN

Her hands fly to her mouth and she can feel her eyes bulging out of her sockets. Christopher isn't dead. No, he can't be. Impossible. Unimaginable. Ridiculous.  But then why is his name written on this grave?

"Oh my God." The words tumble off her tongue like a choked whisper. right now, Cif's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, all reveolving around what her eyes are glued on.

"That was my reaction." A smooth voice cuts through the air like a sharpened blade. Cif's body jerks with surprise as she turns around. The boy from the Cafe is lounging against one of the many trees, the sunlight reflecting off his green eyes with such intensity that they appear to be glowing. "Poor, messed up Christian." He says. Cif can feel her brows knitting together.

"I thought his name was Christopher." For the second time that day, her voice comes out as accusing. The boy doesn't flinch, but instead, eyes her with mild curiosity.

"Oh Christopher isn't dead, Christian is." He says, pulling away from the tree with a huff. Bits of bark and leaves are attached to the back of his sweater. "Poor kid." he says, almost as if it is an afterthought.  

"But it says---"  The boy quickly cuts off Cif's sentence with a wave of his hand.

"He didn't tell you, did he?" He inquires. Cif's gaze flits between the boy and the gravestone.

"Tell me what?" She asks, "And who are you?" A light flush decorates the boy's pale cheeks before he sticks out his hand.

"How rude of me." He says, "The name's Winters. Aven Winters." Cif cautiously takes his hand and is tempted to yank it away the second her fingers touch his. They are colder than ice.

"What are you doing out here?" She rubs her hand against her outer thigh, desperate to get the feeling of death off her fingers. 

"You ask too many questions." Aven says matter-of-factly. "If you want to know why Chris---"

Now it's Cif's trun to cut him off. "I do." She says curtly. Seeming unfazed, Aven saunters over to the grave, kneeling before the stone. He traces the outline of the name with a finger.

"Christopher and Christian were twins. Christian was killed because he knew too much. And if you keep asking questions and poking about, you'll be joining him pretty soon."

Okay so this was a pretty bad chapter compared to the others. Sorry about that; it's just that in the past week, I didn't have enough time to write. I thank you for being so patient with my slow updates. You guys are literally the best!!!!!!!!!

Also, sorry if this was too short. as I said, things have been very busy lately with teachers trying to cram in every test they can before the Christmas Break. by the way, in case I don't get the chance to say it, Merry Christmas guys!

And finally, BIRTHDAY SHOUTOUT TO MY BFF SUMI!!!!!!!!!!!

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 ZuzannaMiron