ѕιℓαнѕ
Cold. So cold, the freezing air felt like nails against your skin. So cold, that frost bite could come in a matter of minutes. One of the coldest days of the year, this day, of all days, the cold was unbearable. Snow was piled in layers, the first layer soft like powder, the last, hard like rock. The trees twisted and tangled with each other, branches were covered with a layer of frost, which made them shimmer in the day light. How could there be any life in such a place? All the birds and animals of the dying forest had fled, even long before the winter months came.
A child’s whimper could be heard, his voice echoing off the trees and solid snow. The child laid in the snow, a layer of snow already covering his stiff body. Nothing covered his body, except for old ratted pajamas, spotted with designs and colors that were now faded. The tips of his frail fingers had already turned purple as well as his feet. But they didn’t hurt anymore, they had long ago turned numb. Everything felt numb, the only thing that hurt was his chest, as he breathed deeply, sucking in the icy air as well as the frozen flakes. His eyes burned, not only from the warm tears that leaked from his eyes, which quickly froze on his pale face, but because he continued to close his eyes, to keep the layer of moisture on his eyes from freezing over.
Why would a child be outside in such weather? Not playing in the snow nor wearing the right clothing for such weather. A body lay close to the still breathing boy, if you could still recognize the body to be human. The body was twisted, like a rag, broken bones penetrated from the once light colored skin, which was now stained red. The face was distorted, the eyes frozen over with the jaw unhinged and spread open, as if it had screamed before it’s jaw unhinged. Twines and branches coiled around the body, it trapped her like barbwire. The body was once a female, an older female, the resemblance to her and the boy would be mirrored, if it wasn’t that fact she was now dead and distorted.
“Mama…. Mama…” The boy whimpered, his voice cracked from the cold, as he gasped at the end of his words, dry and craving for water. Sounds of footsteps came from behind him, but he didn’t bother to turn towards the sound. The snow crunched underneath the footsteps, the sound was so loud, it felt like shattering glass to the boy’s ear. Gold eyes stared down at him from behind, staring at his cold and small body. He couldn’t be much older than four, five at most the creature presumed. The golden eyes then shifted to the distorted and twisted body, a smile appearing on his lips, before quickly disappearing. The man then walked around the boy, standing in front of him then.
“Come now, I know you aren’t dead yet…” The voice sounded, it sounded so low, yet soothing. The boy hesitated at first, before turning his head to look up at him. He looked so bizarre, like somebody he had never seen before. It was terrifying, but he wasn’t ugly. His skin was as white as the snow on the ground, but the white seemed to crack around his eyes, rimming his eyelids with a dark coal black. He had the facial features of a man, but everything above his ears were covered with a strange head dress, the curled and twisted outward. A long draping robe covered his body, keeping him warm from the cold. “Do you want to die, like her?” He said, extending one of his fingers towards the mangled corpse. The boy blink his eyes, lifting his arm, snow falling off his frost bit fingers. He stared at him in silence, before turning his head back down, the strange man standing straight. He turned to leave, stepping over the bloody mess, the boy watching as he began to leave. With pain now pulsing through his body, he then lifted his arm towards him, opening his cracked lips to speak. “Wait… please… take me with you.” He said, the man stopping, looking back to him as he turned his head.
He smiled, turning back towards him, walking to his side. He leaned over, grabbing his chilly hand, and with ease and great strength, pulled him from the snow. It hurt a lot for him to move, but the man then pulled the long robe off his body, revealing a thin layer of black velvety clothing covering his body. He wrapped the robe around the boy, soon lifting him from his feet, placing him on his back as the boy held tight. “Do you have a name?” The man asked, the boy shaking his head. “Then do you mind if I call you Silahs?” He asked.
“No… What’s your name?” The boy asked, straining his voice a bit, but the man was still able to understand what he had said.
“My name Fayhtija, but you may address me as Fayht.”
“Fayht? Like fate?”
“Yes. Like how it’s fate that I came when I did.” the man said. What a strange name, it seemed rather ironic..
The boy, now given the name Silahs, laid his head gently on the Fayht’s back. He smelled like a Maplewood tree, it reminded him of maple syrup. He then gently closed his eyes, letting the warmth fill him.
-------------------------------------------
From that night, Silah’s had lost most of his fingers, and part of his left leg. It was a painful process to remove them, even with the slight numbing. The missing fingers were replaced with metal pieces, that would move whenever he would clench his hand. He could barely walk without part of his leg, so that was replaced with wood, it connected to his skin perfectly and allowed for him to walk. Silahs was disgusted with the way it looked, he didn’t mind his fingers, but he always wrap his leg with a cloth, it almost looked like a large sock. These parts had to be constantly replaced when he grew, Fayht was always the man to do it..
Fayht’s home was so… bizarre. It was under ground, the only way to get inside was a small opening on top which was like a staircase, but the way to it to get out was always locked or closed off. He liked candles, every room had one, making the whole place smell like a wax museum. Silahs wasn’t the only one there either, There were some older than him, most of them were younger as the years passed by. He was like a Saint, welcoming lost children into his home. His few rules were very strict, and he made certain everyone followed them. The only time you were to ever leave his home, was if he was there to accompany you. His second rule was that everyone must eat together, like a family, every morning, every evening, and every night. His third rule, which was probably most important, was to never enter the basement. He called it the basement, even though it was on the same floor. There were several locks on the door, each having a different key which he carried with him at all times.
Later in the years, Fayht had told Silahs what had happened to his dear mother. He told him a tale about a monster, that lived within the forest. The monster was made of trees and branches that were used like hooks to catch his victims. He didn’t eat people, he fed off the essence of death and pain, which is why he would kill his victims in the most brutal way possible. It sounded very unlikely that such a creature could exist, but for Silahs, it was the only explanation for his mother’s death.
During the pass few years, Silahs grew more suspicious of the self proclaimed Saint. In the nights, when the children were cramped in their sleep, Silahs feels as if… he is always being watched. There are always these people watching them. A pair. Their faces are panted white, and their robes are always white as well. Silahs gave them the name ‘The white men.’ They never say anything, they just watch, Silahs has caught them spying on them in their sleep occasionally. When one of the children turns eighteen, they vanish. They never get a chance to say goodbye, they just leave, but nobody ever gets to see them leave.
Visitors come as well, they are usually adults, some of them at least old enough to be considered adults. They come to buy the mud sculptures Fayht makes, he is very skilled, he’s even made sculptures for each of the children. The Visitors are always welcomed to stay for a few days, but if they become too friendly with the children, they disappear too.
The day was growing late, the children all sat in a circle around what appeared to be a throne that Fayht sat upon. An old tattered book sat in his lap, and he read the story aloud. Silahs had heard the story a million times, he knew what happened, and if you asked him, he could repeat the story word for word. He sat away from the group, near a small window. Through the window, all you could see was a hallow place, but if you looked up, you could see what little was out there of the outside world. His new replacement on his leg was placed on, and it just looked like a block of wood. He used a knife, carving the edges, trying to make the shape of his foot. He was becoming of age. He was now seventeen, in just a few short weeks, he would be eighteen. Fayht had not told him anything about leaving, but he had seemed to be acting… strange around him. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but he was definitely paying more attention to his actions.
The wood widdled away as he continued to shave the wood from the appendage, glancing over in the direction of the children with his dark blue eyes. He had to get out, he knew whatever was going to happen, wasn’t going to be good. A hand then touched his shoulder, causing him to jump, turning around to see the strange tall man behind him. He stared at the taller man, as he leaned down to eye level with him. “You’re getting better…” He murmured, pointing to wooden leg. It looked almost exactly like a full foot, if it wasn’t for the difference in color. “Maybe when your birthday comes along, I’ll teach you how to make mud sculptures..” He said, patting his back, soon turning and walking away.
Silahs trembled a bit, definitely something was off. He then pulled the large piece of cloth up around his leg, tying it around in the back. He touched his bare skin then with his metal fingers, they were so cold, they always felt cold, maybe he should wear gloves. He turned his head, watching as the children began to play with their makeshift toys, bouncing a ball, girls playing with dolls. A small girl then ran up to him, tugging on his sleeve. He looked down at her, she looked said, curly bleach blonde hair and forest green eyes. “Silahs… Are you going to leave us?” She asked. Silahs had thought he was the only one that noticed, this girl couldn’t have been much older than seven.
“No, why do you ask?” He asked, turning fully towards her, his foot making a loud thud on the floor.
“I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go…” She said, wrapping her small arms around his lean figure then. He looked down, a bit surprised, resting a hand on top her head.
“I said I’m not going… What makes you think I’m leaving?” She then looked hesitant, soon turning and running off towards the other little girls. That made his heart stop, did all the children know? Did Fayht say something to them?
Night had come, all the children went to the same room. There were at least a dozen of them in one room, all sharing a bed at least with another. Silahs stared at the ceiling, waiting until they had all fallen asleep. He then sat up straight, looking around at all the sleeping faces. No white men, no Fayht, just sleeping kids. He silently stood to his feet, slowly stepping to the door. He pushed it open slowly, peering out, nothing but the hallways. He stepped out, gently closing it behind him. He then walked down the hall, hearing a few voices coming from inside the basement. He stared, tempted, but he ignored the temptation for now, walking passed it into another room. There was an air vent in there, it was what he was looking for. He quickly went over to it, pushing a few boxes out of the way, grabbing the edges of the air vent, and pulling as hard as he could.
One of the screws came loose, making it easier to pull the rest of it off. He then tossed it to the side, soon looking inside. It was stuffed, with branches and twigs and leaves, he began to pull them out, soon stopping. He felt the same feeling as before, the eyes watching him… He turned, to see two tall men, dressed in white, staring down at him. They didn’t move, they only stared with cold lifeless black eyes. Silahs then moved back, the two men soon leaning over, picking up the air vent, and putting it back together. Silahs stood to his feet, watching them for a moment, before darting out of the room. The basement door was still there, strange noises came from the other side, though he ran passed it, and back into the bedroom. He slid back in his spot on the bed, not waking the children as he did, soon pretending the he was fast asleep once again.
The door then opened, Silahs keeping quiet, though very much awake. He did everything he could do to not move, hearing footsteps walk towards his bed. He felt fingers trace his shoulders, trying not to move, then a pair of lips press against his cheeks. “Not too long now… not long at all…” The voice said, recognizing it immediately. Fayht then pulled his covers up more and tucking him in, brushing his hair to the side with his fingers. He then walked out of the room, the door closing behind him.
[pm me to continue!
This is a yaoi RP
If you’re a girl, you can reply as a girl
No one liners
You can reply as a Visitor, or if you have another idea, go ahead
but your post doesn't have to be this long
cause I know... this is really... really long]
