WARNING: MATURE CHAPTER

‘Why won’t he leave those poor children be?!’ You wail in pain. Well, I don’t know, it’s just that way. The children from then on had to hide their get-togethers. Who knew what would happen if their parents found out. They’d walk to and from school, as they always did, but the afternoons were the hardest,

Noire would drag herself to room, hide in the bathroom, and cry very hard. None of this is fair, she’d think to herself, taking a razor and cutting herself.

Down

                 Down

                                Down

                                              The blood trickled down

                                Down her arm

                  Down her leg

Down, down, down.

“No, sweet Noire!” You must be begging to shout. But even if I could say something, I wouldn’t. This story must happen, this story must unfold. We cannot stop these events. That goes untold.

Knock, Knock, Knock, Noire, you there? The sound of Primrose giving shivers to Noire. She yanked down her sleeves and wiped her eyes. No one must know, especially them.

Yeah, what’s up? She asked through the door, standing and wobbling. She lost a lot of blood, it soaked in her clothes. She felt lightheaded. She felt alone.

Come downstairs, we need to talk, and those few words sent Noire in shock.

I-I’ll be right down, Noire muttered, hearing Primrose’s footsteps fade away. Noire fell against the door, breathing hard. Her vision blurred over. Is this how she would die?

Not yet, my sweet, you’re not supposed to die. Et te vivo, et vos vivetis. Immunitatem est mors, det mihi ad te. With those words spoken by Satan himself, Norie felt alive. She pulled up her sleeves. Her cuts? Gone. She grabbed the razor and cut again and again, but no blood poured, and her wounds had healed.

Why can’t I die?! She screamed in her head, sobbing, clutching the razor to her chest.

Non possum non patitur te, mi dulcis puer. Vos postulo ut manere et bram. Manere in infernum. Aeternum. Mecum

Over at Bram’s he was locked under the stairs, huddled in the corner, a spider now his friend; an American House Spider, or Parasteatoda tepidariorum. It spun a messy web as Bram watched in wonder. All that hard work, boy you must be strong. And that spiders were, they were clever little creatures. Spun webs, drank blood, interesting indeed.

Mephistopheles appeared in that little, little room, crouched next to Bram, who went pale.

What do you want?!, He shouted to the King, who just clicked his tongue, and waved a finger.

Hush now, Bram. I can imagine you don’t want your father coming back. Bram instantly felt the pain from the welts on his back. From the leather belt, his father hit him with,

He’d been drinking again since he woke up. And was so long gone, he thought Bram was his wife.

Why did you leave?! He’d shouted at Bram, hitting and sobbing, on the ground. Bram scrambled away, screaming and crying, but no one heard him. Nobody ever did.

What do you want? Bram hissed in displease. He hated this creature. What did it want? Where did it come from? Why him? Why her? Why poor, sweet Noire?

I have a task, The Prince of Darkness started, waving his hand, the walls vanishing. Bram stood up and looked all around. Guts and blood dripped down to the floor from somewhere above. When he took a step, an eyeball squashed beneath his shoe. I need you to take this and kill your father. From out of thin air Satan pulled a knife, with a beautifully curved blade, and a jewel-encrusted handle.

It was thrust into Bram’s hand, and when he tried to let go, his fingers wrapped around the handle, refusing to let up.

Get this off! Bram grabbed the blade and yanked hard; his hand started to bleed, a deep cut indeed.

What is it with you both, cutting yourselves? You’re not allowed to die, just stop already. Sana contritiones vulnus penitus non moriatur. Fiat cor eius anguis. The wound healed in seconds, just as Noire’s had. No mark, no blood, clean fresh skin.

LEAVE US BE!! Bram pleaded in fear, yanking the blade hard and continuous. Why do you want us? Why do you care?!

Mephistopheles leaned in, saliva dripping from his teeth, a jagged smile leaped across his face.

Vos duo non opus, vos autem duo specialis, eris mihi in adjutorium meum, in specie caelum. Deum non cadere, et praeessent. Faciam hoc mundo perfectum iterum. Bram Pestilencia atque ita exspectare parvulis mox hic animo cognoscetis.

'Leave them alone!' You shout in displease. But nobody can hear you. 

Nobody...

But...

                                                           Me