Hawk Point *ON HOLD*

Chapter Four: Death is a Beautiful Thing

October 31st 1997

The forest had never before appeared as a daunting place but now, everywhere Christian turns there would be dark monsters lurking in the shadows, their ruby eyes gleaming like pools of hell fire. Twigs snap like gun fire beneath his feet, his breath pouring out through his lips in ghostly mist.

Of course. Why did he not notice it sooner? All the answers are so obvious, though outlandish. Hawk Point...Joe Klinsey...The Dark Watchers...it is all so obvious and he is tempted to slap himself for being so blind and ignorant.

Now that he knows, there is only one thought embedded into his mind, repeating itself over and over again, one thing he has to do before it's too late.

Run.

And he does just that. He pushes off with his legs, stumbling over stray roots and fallen branches, feeling the monsters lunge for him with their taloned fingers. He needs to find his brother, warn him before The Dark Watchers get them both. But what if it's too late? Christian shakes that thought from his head. It is already too late and now all he can do is find his brother and run. That's all they seem to be doing these days : running and hiding from Klinsey and the Watchers.

The first intimation he has that something is wrong is the long shadow that falls across the ground, overlapping his own. Bracing himself, he turns---

And his eyes lock with golden ones. Dread opens up in Christian's chest, unraveling like a warped flower.

"Dear me, why the rush?" Joe Klinsey inquires nonchalantly, flashing a smile as dangerous as an unsheathed blade. Refusing to tear his gaze away from the man, Christian forces his legs to go faster, adrenaline pumping through his veins; if he dares look away, he may end up with something as equally terrible as a knife in the back. "How rude." Joe says when Christian doesn't reply to his inquiry, "Usually when one asks a question, it is only appropriate to reply." There is a tense pause, "So, where are you going?"

" To hell." Joe's eyes gleam.

"Oh joy," He says, a note to insanity in his voice. "I hear it's wonderful there. Eternal suffering, fiery pits of doom." Joe's grin widens, "You'ver heard of Virgil, right? 'The gates of Hell are open night and day; smooth the descent and easy is the way.' It's easy to go to hell kid. It's getting out that's hard. 'It is easy to go down into Hell...; but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air ---there's the rub..."

"You're insane." Christian says, simply and plainly. But deep down, his fear is growing; knowing what he does about Klinsey doesn't exactly make him feel safer on any level.

"Why thank you, I know." Joe's breath hit's Christian with the heady and intoxicating scent of blood and wine, "I need to tell ya something kid." A group of magpies cry out before taking wing, swooping past Christian. An old children's rhyme about magpies his mother would sing manages to creep into his mind:

One for sorrow

Two for mirth

Three for a wedding

Four for a birth

Five for silver

Six for gold

Seven for a secret that has never been told.

Christian counted seven. A secret that has never been told...

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it." He says coldly. Joe chuckles darkly, seemingly unfazed by the harshness in the boy's voice. The very sound reminds Christian of rattling bones.

"Well too bad. I'm going to tell you anyways." Joe says, mild amusement tinting his voice, mixing in with the insanity. "Tonight's the night The Dark Watches were talking about. This is the night where everything will end for you and your brother. Together, you two will burn in the hottest pits of hell." Christian can imagine his heart stopping, but that would contradict the feeling of it pounding angrily against his rib cage.

"What do you mean?" He asks, but Joe Klinsey has vanished, blending into the shadows provided by the maze of trees as the sun sets. Overhead, the sky is a deep purple. Christian frowns. "And according to Dante's Inferno, hell is cold."

As he runs, he can feel his legs slowly giving in to fatigue but he can't stop now. He searched too long and hard for the truth and now that he knows it, it needs to be heard by everyone.

But then something heavy is thrown over his head and his body falls forward, the heavy scent of a burlap bag wafting up his nose.

"Maybe you should see if hell is cold or hot and then you can tell us." A familiar voice---though muffled by the bag---can be heard. Christian can feel rope binding his arms and biting into his skin. His struggles are slow and useless against the strength of The Dark Watchers, his cries for help are in vain; who can hear him? His brother perhaps but what can he do? Christopher is a follower, too scared to act on his own.

A sense of weightlessness overcomes him as he is picked up and slung over a shoulder, his legs dangling uselessly, too heavy to be moved. How long he was carried, Christian doesn't know, but when he is thrown onto the ground, the bag torn off his head, he can easily recognize his surroundings: Their secret base.

The trees are taller than normal ones, their leaves like dark crystals. They reflect off the burning fire, illuminating the faces of the Watchers. They glare down at him, his upcoming death sparking their eyes; they have always hated him. Of course Christian knew they were going to kill him; Joe doesn't lie. And why else would they bind him in rope and kidnap him?

"You know too much." The familiar voice hisses and a shadow separates itself from the others: Silver Scar. Tall and daunting with skin as white as snow, Silver Scar has a thick and ragged scar that distorts his features, the delicate skin gleaming in the firelight. Christian is suddenly aware of the ropes cutting through his skin, the pile of burlap lying discarded beside him. His knees are pressed into the murky ground. He feels like crying but he can't show weakness to the Watchers; they will use that to their advantage. "You should have stayed away." Silver Scar whispers, his breath tickling Christian's ear, "You should have left when you had the chance. You shouldn't have looked for answers."

"Just make it quick." Christian says, "But leave my brother alone."

Silver Scar chuckles in a tone that reminds Christian of Joe. He shudders. "Oh we won't dream of hurting dear Christopher...yet." Silver Scar says teasingly. The cold end of a blade touches christian's neck and the boy holds back a frightened whimper.

"Just make it quick."

He didn't feel it coming. All he saw was the fire growing brighter and brighter, all fear diminishing into a deep calm...

gsv wvhxvmg gl svoo rh vzhb...

hey guys it's me! (well obviously) Just popping by to say hope you like it!!!!!! for those who don't know, this chapter was a flashback to when christian died. yeah......poor Christian.... btw, this chapter is unedited so I apologize for any mistakes spelling and grammar-wise. And Heaven's Rock will soon be out (yay!) so if you didn't already, check it out! Thanks for the reads, votes and comments; it really makes my day to hear that you guys are liking my story. And thanks to ElsaForever who wrote a review for my story on her blog. Check it out if you guys can!!!!!! http://www.orangeslemonslimes.blogspot.ca/2014/12/wattpad-unpopular-book-rated-and.html Her blog is amazing! And thank you for such a wonderful review! It seriously means a lot!!!!!!

ZuzannaMiron