La crime atroce d'une Fée: Atrocious
237 Words
Ivéda's name, unknown for centuries, now spews at random, passed on from a fearful tongue to another.
Walking past shivering families coiled into one, Isaïe slows down his pace, his thoughts halting at the idea that he could've been holding onto his younger brother just the same way a mother's arms wrapped her daughter in a warm coat of protection.
Unlike the rest of his relatives, his aching soul never ceased to burn with the loss of Eugène.
His mother was a lost cause. A woman with barely half a mind to keep her steady, and a tied-up knot of dull memories. She can't remember anything past when he was twelve. That's seven years ago. He'd be surprised if she even recalled giving birth to a six-year-old boy beyond him.
And he'd long given up on his father. The man who pushed himself out of the way and fled the scene, resulting in a kill that could've been well avoided. What remains of him is most probably a decaying clot of infested meat and bones, far lost within the darkened forests.
His cousins, too, all for saving their own flesh and blood rather than a helpless boy the size of a garden gnome.
Isaïe shook his head, desperate to cleanse out the images that roamed free in the deepest core of his mind. He'd promised Eugène a cold-blooded murder, which would wipe out this one Fae.
Ivéda.
- Writer
