The INFLICTED

"Inflicted". Not a name they chose, but one given by those who glimpsed them and survived. It carries a double meaning: the infliction of violence they are capable of, and the affliction of their existence, a curse placed upon them at birth (or before). Arthur Lewis has never heard of this term. He does not know there is a name for what he is.

Arthur does not know what he is. He does not know why he exists. He has no memory of birth, of childhood, of family. His earliest memories are of waking in a field, alone, fully grown, with no knowledge of how he came to be there.

He has searched, in his way, for answers. Listened to stories. Read what texts he could find. Heard whispers of strange children born with red eyes, with sharp teeth, with impossible strength. But the whispers are always old, always vague, always ending in tragedy... The children killed, or vanished, or locked away.

He assumes he is alone. The only one. A freak of nature, a curse made flesh, a monster wearing human skin.

He has never considered the possibility of brothers.

He has never considered that somewhere, in the vastness of the world, four others share his burden, his hunger, his endless, exhausting war against the red.

He is exhausted. He has been exhausted for as long as he can remember. The red is not a power he wields; it is a pressure he contains, and every battle, every moment of stress, every flicker of strong emotion risks the containment failing.

He has never let it fail.

He doesn't know what would happen if he did.

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WARNING! Chapters with ⚠️ at the start contain sensitive topics. You have been warned!