When The Moon Cries Blood

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In the dusk of night, a figure emerged from the hut in the center of the village. He was clad in a red and black cloak, a sword strapped around his waist. His eyes shone brighter when the light from the moon cast upon them. Khan. That was his name. He was the son of the clan head and since young was known to be a genius but his cold and indifferent personality made him the least favorite of the chief’s sons.

He was rarely seen participating in any of the rituals of the clan and was always in his laboratory doing one thing or the other.

Khan looked around him to see if any of the clan members were awake before silently walking forward. In about five minutes he reached before a tall wall. That wall was the only entrance and exit of the village and few people could access it. Sighing, he took out a rope from the sack at his back, made a hole, and threw in around the branches of a tree behind the wall. After making sure that the rope was safe, he began a long and arduous climb to the other side. He stepped down after a while and found himself surrounded be darkness and just when he thought he was safe, "Khan!Khan! Where is Khan?", the cries of his mother came from the village.

"f**k", Khan cursed before running into the darkness. The cries of the chief’s wife alerted all the men of the village and they all came out of their respective huts. A small search group was organized and the door of the wall was opened. The men, each saddled on a horse, carried torches lit by flames and searched all around the place and beyond in search of the young prince.

Meanwhile, Khan hid in the leaves of a palm tree, the tallest he could find. His crimson red eyes darted this way and that as he watched the men disperse in search of him. There, he could also see the entirety of the place he once called home. His eyes lacked any emotion as he saw the earlier quiet village become robust with the worried voices of women and teenagers his age. Khan scoffed deep in his heart. A bunch of hypocrites. From the corner of his eyes, Khan saw one of the men riding his horse near the palm tree. He pulled a cloth over his nose, covered his head with a hoodie and dashingly flew down and landed on the horse quietly. Before the man could process whatever was happening, with a needle, Khan poked the man on the neck and he fell off the horse almost immediately.

With a "Gidyap", Khan set off on the back of the horse. He noticed that the forest, which initially was pitch black, now had the light of the moon peeping through the holes in the branches of the trees. Khan did not look back even once, and continued on his journey. He had mission, and he promised himself that he would complete it no matter what.