It was quiet. Way too quiet. Just a second ago, everything was noisy. Way too noisy. There was screaming, crying, wailing, and the sound of them begging for mercy. Then suddenly, it all went quiet. 

He had to stay in the closet. 

He so badly wanted to get out of the small, cramped space, but Mother had told him not to move before long after the men had left. He couldn’t even take a little peek. Nothing.

After a few seconds, a deep chuckle broke the silence:” Now that is a sight everyone likes to see, am I right boys?” The voice said, the comment being followed by chuckles coming from around the room. 

‘Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,’ he thought. 'Just do what mommy told you to: Breathe slowly and stay quiet’ he told himself as he closed his eyes, taking slower breaths.

He breathed in: ‘One, two, three, four.’

He breathed out: ’One, two, three, four.’

After a couple of seconds, he could once again hear the deep-voiced man speaking:” Now, I’m not really in the mood to fuck her, so how ‘bout we just leave ‘em here?” He heard him ask, though it was more of a statement rather than a question.

“Come on then, let’s get going,” the man said. After a couple of seconds of the others' disappointed mumbles of agreement, he could hear them slowly leaving. 

When the silence once again fell over the little cottage, he crawled out of his little hiding spot in the closet. 

When he got out and stood up, his eyes needed a few seconds to get used to the light. As he slowly opened his eyes, he didn’t expect what he saw. He looked around the cosy cottage- his home, though it didn’t even look remotely like his home, nor did it look cosy anymore. Everything was broken- those men hadn’t spared a thing. Not even his parents. They were lying there on the floor, completely motionless, gazing blankly into space. 

His eyes widened in horror as he discovered what had happened. Weeping uncontrollably, he fell to his knees by his parents' sides, shaking and begging through his tears:” Wake up! Please wake up! Mamma, papa! Please wake up!” His voice cracked, “I don’t want to be alone! You can't leave!” he panted, shaking their bodies to try and wake them up again. But it was already too late. They were already starting to become cold, and he couldn't save them. His cries only grew louder, tears rolling down his face as he tried in vain to wake them.

And then- the eyes. Those hauntingly beautiful dark-blue eyes he sees every night, staring at him in horror and sadness, just before everything went dark.

It felt as if a sudden cold breeze flew over him. His eyes flew open as he quickly sat up in the bed. He was trembling, his breath was unsteady, and tears streamed down his face, uncontrollably.

He looked around frantically for a few seconds before remembering:” It's just a dream… Just a dream… Again…” He sighed, rubbing his hands on his face. He lifted his knees to his chest as his muscular arms hugged them tightly. 

He stayed like that for a while, trying to clear his mind. He then heard a faint knock on the door and a soft voice asking:” Excuse me, sir? Are you awake? May I come in?” He sighed again. 

“Yes, Iris, I'm awake, you may come in,” he answered, shifting himself to sit more comfortably while wiping the tears away.

When he answered, a tall woman entered his room with a plate of food in her right hand. Her hair was well-kept and styled nicely, even though the sun hadn't even fully risen yet.

“Good morning, sir. Your breakfast is ready. Did you have a nightmare again?” She put the plate on the bedside table and went over to the curtains, letting in the faint morning light.

“Yeah, just the usual,” he answered, looking at the woman, Iris. She was a nice-looking young woman in her mid-twenties. Her long dark hair was put into a nice bun on the top of her head, and her dress stopped just above her knees. He had always liked her, ever since they met for the first time when he helped her get away from her former boss- or ‘owner’ as most people called it. God, he hated using that word. He had never liked the concept of 'owning' someone. 

“And how many times have I told you not to call me sir, huh?” He asked her with a half-assed small chuckle, he was barely able to squeeze out.

“Sorry, Zion,” she replied with a laugh, “you know how the last one was. It just became a habit.” 

Zion nodded and started taking an interest in the breakfast Iris had bought.

“Is Amara trying out a new recipe? She hasn't made this for me before. Looks good though,” he asked Iris before taking a small bite of a price of bread with vegetables, cheese and some kind of cheese he didn't remember the name of. 

Iris turned to him and answered: ”You could say that. It's a recipe she learned from her mother when she was a child. She thought you'd like it.”

“Well, tell her it tastes just as good as it looks, probably even better,” Zion replied, still slowly eating the food, taking his time, the nightmare still haunting him in the back of his mind. “I think it's my new second-favourite meal.”

Iris giggled:” I'll make sure to tell her that.”

“Good, because this is incredible,” Zion replied. “Wait, isn't that big masquerade thing tomorrow?” 

“Yes, it is, so you need to find whatever you'll need so I can pack them and bring them to Mr and Ms Vanques’ house, where you'll be staying,” iris responded.

When Zion finished the last few bites of food left, he went to the big wooden closet behind Iris, who turned to look at him as he passed her.

“God, I hate that Vanques-guy. And his name is just annoying as he is- like, who names their child Johan? It's such a stupid name. Good thing Colones is the heir to everything, so he had to take her last name,” he complained as he grabbed the golden knobs and opened the dark stained wooden closet doors, with beautiful carved-in designs depicting a forest on the bottom, and a night sky on the top. While Zion scanned the closet, 

While Zion scanned the closet, Iris replied to his comment: "You're not the only one. He's such an entitled asshole. I feel sorry for Collones for having to marry him." 

"Good to know the feeling is mutual," he replied, looking at some clothes before throwing them over his arm. 

There was silence for some time. Zion had picked out the clothes he needed for the trip and picked up two leather bags to pack them in. He threw the clothes and bags on the bed before folding them nicely again, Iris helping him. 

After a couple of moments, Iris decided to break the comfortable silence: "How's it going? Y'know, with the whole 'finding your soulmate' thing?"

Zion sighed, trying to hide his slight frustration on the matter.

"You know I stopped that a long time ago. The eyes probably aren't even my soulmate's. It's just my imagination. Plus, if that's going to be the last look they give me before never seeing each other again? I don't want to get my heart broken like that, so I'll just stay as far away from them as I can," he answered sternly, packing the last shirt and going back and scanning the closet to find his work uniform. 

"I know, but having a soulmate is such a beautiful and special thing! And you don't know why they'll be looking at you like that, neither do you know when. You could have years- decades of love and happiness together before-" 

"Don't. I made my decision a long time ago and I'm not changing my mind," he stated sternly, uniform in hand and going towards the door.

"Now, I'll go change before leaving. The victims live at least an hour away from the opposite side of the Vanquez House, so I'll be back late. Just put the stuff in my room and don't wait for me. Whoever's working can help me to my room. See you tomorrow," he told Iris before going to the bathroom to get ready for the long day ahead.