The sun sank behind the hills in the far distance. A purple ocean flooded the skies above. Evran stares up at the sky and the stars that slowly appear. He looks at the ground and sighs. The villagers had kept him all day, they wouldn't allow him to leave until he stopped bleeding and they were sure he'd live. He tugged at the thick white bandages that were wrapped tightly around his shoulder. He winced as there grip strengthened on his wound. He looked at the sky again.
My dad's going to be furious..., he thought to himself as he gazed at the advancing darkness.
The wooden house came into view. A yellow glow seeped through the window and illuminated portions of the area around it. Smoke fled from the chimney in thick puffs, trailing into the skies above. As Evran approached the house of logs, his heart beat faster, his mind clouded with only thoughts of punishment, and in some ways hate and fear. The night seemed to grow still and silent. The bats stopped screeching, the owls stopped hooting, the bugs stopped biting. Even the wind seemed to bring itself to nothing, leaving the air stale and trees silent. The beating of his heart became deafening. Overwhelming. A swelling pain nestled within his skull. He could feel his fingers wrap around the door knob and pull the door open, but it was all in a blurred silence.
Then he was inside. All was calm, still. Peaceful. Then there was a loud crash and a shattering sound. Evran felt warm liquid slide down his face, dripping off his chin. The world seemed to spin wildly, then it stopped. Noise had returned, vision wasn't blurry. Everything was as it should be. It took Evran moments to figure out that the liquid sliding down his face wasn't his blood. He looked down at the floor next to him and found many pieces of shattered, green glass. He looked up again.
A large man stood before him. His arms bulged with veins and his right eye twitched with irritation, causing his hairy eyebrows to pop up and down. His nose large and round. The man let out a grunt and lifted his unshaven chin into the air. "Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice seemed to shake the very foundations of the house.
"I... I went to the town while you slept." Evran replied, his voice barely more then a whisper.
"I've told you before. Never leave this house unless I say! Never!" the man's voice grew louder and more furious.
"Y-yes father." Evran stuttered.
The man let off another grunt and turned away from Evran. Evran began to walk away, leaving the room. Suddenly he was knocked to the floor and pain shot through his side. His father towered over him, a vicious glint in his eye. His arms raised into the air, he held a stool. The wooden stool met with Evran's side once more, and he rolled over in pain. Again pressure and pain rammed into his body. This time the back of his head. His face became one with the floor, and the smell of pine drifted into his nose. Evran felt the weight lift off his head. He rolled away just in time to dodge another swing from the stool. He looked over as the stool met the floor, both woods turning to splinters. Evran slowly brought himself to his feet, though he was unsteady and would have collapsed at any moment.
How much punishment does the world think I can take? Everywhere I go I get beat on! I've had enough of this shit!, Evran's mind screams.
"Y-you bastard! Look what you did to my floor!" his father roars. His hand flies to the side of his belt and in an instant he holds a large blade.
His father points the machete at him, it's dark blade becomes orange as it reflects the crackling fire. He tosses himself at Evran and raises the cleaver high into the air. Evran hesitates for a brief moment, very brief, and without thinking any longer he throws himself forward as well. The large man groans as Evran's fist meets with his stomach. Evran screams for a moment but grinds his teeth to muffle the noise. Scarlet trickles from his extended arm, which is the new burrow of the machete. He pulls back, tearing flesh from his arm and screaming once more. The wood below becomes stained with the red liquid. His father recovers from the punch and again raises his knife.
Evran turns and flees farther into the house, recieving a large gash in his back. He gasps and nearly falls, but regains his balance and runs into the kitchen. A large, green bottle, half-filled with whiskey, rests on the counter. Evran tries to stop but is moving to quickly, he collides against the counter and pain erupts into his side. He clutches his side, but jumps away, barely managing to dodge the machete's blade. The large cleaver digs deep into the counter, and Evran's father struggles to yank it out. Evran panics as the blade slowly loosens and rises upward. It will only take seconds before the knife is completely free from it's vice. He jumps away, dancing around his father as quickly as possible. Not quick enough. The machete splinters the counter and is brought swiftly through the air.
Evran leaps into the air, desperate to avoid getting sliced by the cleaver. He slams into the counter yet again, causing the bottle to teeter. He grabs the bottle by the tube and swings it forward. The bottle contacts the back of his father's head. A gasp and a moan. The bottle explodes, shattering into shards of glass and a wave of whiskey. His father falls to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. The back of his head bleeds rapidly, spilling onto the floor and mixing with the drink and glass. It takes mere moments, but it feels like hours, his body lay still.
Cautiously Evran steps forward, slowly inching his way towards what was once his father. His head begins to swirl, but he shakes it off. However the noise of his beating heart still drowns out all else.
I-I killed him... I killed my father. I can't stay here, I'll be arrested!, Evran's mind shrieks.
He reaches forward, grabbing the hilt of the machete and shaking his fathers limp hand away. It sickens him, but he also takes the scabbard from his father's belt and attatches it to his own. He looks around frantically for something to cover the corpse with, just to make it seem less grotesque as he prepares to leave. He finds nothing. Then he hears it, the crack of the fire. An idea forms in his head. Disgusted with himself, he grabs the feet of his father's corpse and drags it back into the other room. He grunts, the body is heavy. With great effort he swings it around and tosses the majority of the body into the blazing fire.
Some of the body can't fit, an arm and a leg stick out from the fireplace and gently float in the first puddle of whiskey. Sickened by his task, Evran leaves the room to prepare for his new life. He grabs the largest leather sac he can find and stuffs it with food and other various supplies. Bread, meat, jars of water, some of his posessions, and a couple blankets which he manages to shove in at the bottom. A grotesque scent fills the air and smoke fills Evran's lungs. His back burns and the kitchen begins to glow orange, the crackling fire grows louder. He spins around to face a raging blaze spewing from the room over. Quickly, Evran rushes out the door and runs into the night, stopping once to watch what was once his home collapse in flame.
