Here is my submission! Sorry if you got a pm with part of the story attached, I realized a tad too late that PM's have a word limit.
I make my way back into the blacksmith shop, looking around. I'm incredibly familiar with this place, as it's been my worksite and home for almost two years. My eye catches on something glimmering on the floor near the back corner of the shop. I dump the bundles of fruits in my arms onto one of the few clean-ish tables. Basically, one that has no material items, and just bits of soot and ash from the nearby furnaces. I walk over and notice the glimmering bits of broken glass, scattered like early morning dewdrops on grass.
I catch sight of the left side of my face in a particularly large shard of glass on the ground. The two angular scars on my cheek are quite visible against my tan skin. My yellow eyes stare back at me. I blink quickly and look away
"Hey John, you seen this?" I call out to the older blacksmith, not taking my eyes off the glass. I angle my head slightly to the back of the shop where I assume John is either quietly reading or napping, as he sometimes does. When my mentor didnt respond, I take a few steps backward, going more toward where I assumed he was. I jump slightly as my foot hits something on the floor, but I just assume its whatever was thrown to break the window.
But, when I try and kick - whatever it was - it doesn't budge an inch. I finally turn my head to see the object on the floor. I freeze as if I've been suddenly encapsulated in ice.
His body lays on the floor, blood pooling from his chest. The stab wound was caused by some unpresent object. I fall onto my ass, slowly scooting away from the still-oozing corpse. Around his neck glimmers a simple silver chain with two dogtags on it.
I remember John was wearing that same necklace, and he's worn it every day sense. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was barley fourteen, and the prudent scars on my face had just been inflicted after a nasty run-in with a stray dog. I saw the tall man that I would soon come to love like a father walking down the street with a bundle of fruits and fresh breads in his arms.
I snuck up behind the broad, black-haired man and attempted to swipe an apple from his bag, but he turns before I can. After a long lecture on his part, he takes me to the blacksmith shop that Ive also come to know so well. As he cleaned up the gashes on my face, I noticed that tag around his neck. It simply had his name engraved on it, and a few weeks later I noticed a second tag. This one read Beckett and I remember how happy it made me. He had a tag with my name on it.
I blink, and suddenly, Im sitting on the floor in front of a body again. As I stare at him, the huge wound in his belly continues to leak blood.
"J-John?" the moments of silence that follow are deafening, gradually rising into a crescendo of madness.
I quickly stand, turning to run out of the house and stumbling on my way out. I feel like the air is trying to asphyxiate me. Who would do this? John had no enemies, he was a good man. He was my mentor, my father almost, so everyone he knew, I knew as well. So who? I fall to my knees on the jagged path, scraping my knees and feeling rocks embed themselves in my skin.
"John..." I say, hot tears streaming down my face, burning my skin as the water literally began to boil. I feel my skin heat up, my hands on the brink of catching fire. Is this a punishment from the gods? Have I done something wrong? I startle slightly as I feel a hand gently rests itself on my shoulder.
Are you okay? asks an unfamiliar voice. I turn my head, wiping my tears away with the back of my sleeve. The owner of the hand gives a sheepish smile, removing his hand from my shoulder and scratching the back of his head.
I blink at the boy standing above me. He's got red hair and equally as red eyes. His eyes, although a color that usually represents evil, sparkle with kindness.
I shake my head, wiping my eyes again. His eyes meet mine with a pearl of wisdom, seemingly beyond his years. He opens his mouth and speaks softly. "Its happened again, hasn't it. He's struck again. The redhead turns his eyes to the sky, which has begun to cloud over. I turn my eyes up as well, just as the first drops of rain begin to fall and splash on my face. I'm Vance Walker, a detective working on the case of a homicidal madman, he says, reaching a hand to help me up. I'm assuming you found a body? Probably of someone important to you."
I nod and accept his hand, lifting myself up to my feet. Ill go get the police, don't go back in the building, Vance says, beginning down the street. The masses of people on the street begin to blur as my eyes well up again, and I watch Vance's bright red hair get swallowed by the crowds.
- - -
Its not true, I decide while waiting for Vance's return. That must've been someone else, maybe even the intruder who broke the window. I sit back down outside, my knees tucked up to my chest as the rain washes down around me. After all, nobody would murder a man as kind as John, the man who saved me
I stare blankly at a puddle in front of me, my reflection shattering again and again as the rain came down. The outline of my head and muscular shoulders was visible, but not much else. I could also see my mess of curly brown hair atop my head. Something about not being able to see my actual reflection freaked me out, and I looked away.
Several different officers attempt to come up to me and speak to me. To comfort me, to interrogate me, one even checked to see if I was still alive. I didn't move from my spot, simply ducking my head between my knees.
A gentle hand rests itself on my shoulder for the second time that day. I glance up to meet Vance's red eyes. The shorter boy doesn't say a word, he simply tucks an arm under mine, and I allow him to put my arm around his neck. From there, he helps me back into the shop, up the stairs in the back, and into the living area above the shop. We finally arrive at my bedroom
I'm mildly surprised he can cart me through all the rooms in the house, as I've got a full head of height on him, and probably 100 pounds with all my densely packed muscle.
I don't even bother asking how he knew which bedroom was mine, I just flop face-first into my mattress, and drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
- - -
Over the next few days, I'm aware of people moving in and out of the shop, the living space above, and even my bedroom. Several people come and make sure I have food. I haven't moved from my bed. Its almost like if I wait in here for long enough, John will come through the door and tell me to get up and get moving.
I also haven't seen Vance since the day I found I yelp slightly and curl up in a tighter ball. Nothing. I didn't find anything. That's right, John will be here soon soon
I feel my breathing deepen, and I fall softly back into the nothingness of sleep.
- - -
When I wake again, after what is probably days, I hear the soft murmur of voices, distant as always. Something smells slightly charred, and I realize its probably my sheets, maybe even my clothes. It's been a long time since I've accidentally set something on fire while I'm sleeping.
"What's wrong with him?" Asks a familiar voice, that stands out amongst the dull buzz of the others. As Vance speaks, the other voices clear up some.
"He's in shock, I can imagine why," says an intelligent-sounding voice. As I open my eyes slightly, I see the woman who has come in most often, who I've assumed is my doctor. "Haven't you seen this before, Mr. Walker?"
"To an extent, but in reality, I've never stuck around this long before. Mostly to prevent me from blaming myself, because that's highly unproductive. But I cant help but know that there was something I could've done and that this is my fault. If I had caught him before, of course, but also if I had gotten here sooner, I would've found the body as I usually do," he says, somewhat anxiously running his fingers through his hair.
"Hell, we were so close, its possible if I had moved faster I could've stopped this altogether."
I sit up. "What do you mean by that, Vance?" I ask, my voice gravelly and hoarse.
"B-Beckett!" says the bright, red-haired boy, startling slightly. "Well, we hope that's your name. It was a hell of a time to try and find out who you were," he adds with a sheepish smile.
"What's going on?" I ask, coughing slightly.
Vance looks at me, a slightly pained look strewn across his face. He hands me the chain that was around Johns neck the first day. "I think you know, Beckett. John left this for you, in his will, as well as almost every other one of his possessions. He's been buried already, but I can show you where-" I stand and stride quickly over to where he and the doctors are.
"Get. Out." I say, my breathing shallow. I snatch the necklace from Vance. All these people staring at me is starting to make me panic, as my old socially anxious habits creep back.
The two doctors scurry out without hesitation, but Vance stays, standing in front of me, studying my yellow eyes. "Please, Beck, just let me explain-"
I swing my arm to land a swift punch on his jaw, but I'm still groggy from sleeping so much. He catches my hand with no problem, holding my fist gently in his palm.
"Get. Out. And if you ever call me that again, you'll live to regret it," I say, my tone warning. I am no longer panicking, I'm mad. How dare he call me what John called me. How dare those words leave his mouth?
"S-sorry. One of the little kids down the street called you that and I thought it would be comforting" He stammers out
Vance looks up at me with a small, sad smile before dropping my arm and walking out. As soon as I hear him reach the bottom of the stairs, I let out a howl. I throw the necklace on my bedside table before spinning and punching the brick wall behind me. I feel my knuckles crack and the skin on them tear open, and I know the pain must be evident in my voice, but I don't care.
- - -
The days slush by, slow as molasses. I manage to mostly get back into the swing of life. Running the blacksmith by myself is not helping, as all its doing is weighing me down. I wear the silver necklace each day, as John used to. I haven't had many visitors, and the small children who used to come over and play with John and I now stay away.
As I'm in the back working on a longsword, I hear the sound of the bells on the back of the door jangling as it opens. I don't respond, and I hear whoever it is shuffle into the back. I'm surprised to see Vance, as I haven't seen him since last week when he left.
"Hi Beckett," he says in a friendly tone.
"I'm not answering any questions, I thought I was clear about that," I mutter, to the young detective, turning back to polishing the sword.
"I'm not here to ask you any questions!" he exclaims quickly. "I just wanna see how you're doing. Marie - your doctor - asked me to come. Losing a loved one so violently must hurt," he says, and I can hear the small, sweet smile on his face.
"I'm fine, and I don't" need your help, I grumble.
"But Beckett-"
"But nothing!" I shouted, spinning to face him, lifting the sword to point at his chest. "I don't need your help! And I don't want you here! You've done nothing for me, I don't know what makes you think you're entitled to help me, but you're not and I want you gone! Go!" I see Vance flinch at my shouting. He looks too scared to move, I know my voice is pretty terrifying when I yell, but I cant bring myself to care. I feel my hands heat, and if I don't control myself, I might set something on fire.
I take a deep breath, lower the sword, taking a step closer to him, glaring down.
I don't know much of anything about the murder, but from what I've put together, this is his fault. I move another step forward, bending over slightly, my face inches from his.
"Are you listening to me?" I growl. "I want. You. Gone."
And just like that, he is.
- - -
More days buzz by in a blur. I've taken to praying each night before bed, as I used to as a child. I pray to the only god I know by heart, the God who gave me the fire inside in my belly. Aarush, the god of fire. I stumble up the stairs, tired out of my mind.
The kids have started to visit again. They gave me snacks and candy, telling me that they're sorry. I burn them ash in my own hands each night, as an offering to the god of fire. As I reach my bedroom, I fall to my knees next to my bed. I flinch slightly as it slams on the scabs on my knees, and I begin to pray.
Your offerings have been sent again. Every day, I send them. I eat just enough to get by, so you can have these things. Please, Lord Aarush, I'm begging you. Give him back.
I prayed for different things. Some nights, I wanted John back. Some nights, I just wanted him to be safe in whatever afterlife there was. Most often though, I wanted answers. Who did this? And why did they single out John?
I toss and turn in bed that night, feeling an incredible pain I haven't felt since I lived on the streets. The hunger works its way through me, gnawing at my insides and trying to claw its way up my throat. Needless to say, sleep eluded me most nights now.
- - -
Days fly by in a blaze. Aarush never gives me my answer. I beg and plead with him, telling him everything I could think of. He had given me my power, doesn't he care enough to give me John? Does he wanna watch me starve as I eat less and less, giving even my water to him? Hell, I'd give my power back, if it meant John could walk back in through the door.
Out of the blue, Vance shows up again. This time, I'm sitting in the back, on Johns old reading stool, staring at the fire burning in one of the furnaces, my hands warming slightly as well as I stare at the burning flames.
I hear him from across the shop. "Hey, Beckett, are you here? Marie sent me again to check up on you, he calls out."
He gasps after he turns the corner, seeing me in full. I look up at him, glaring only slightly.
"B-Beckett!" he exclaims to me, picking up his pace and scurrying in my direction. He stops a few feet away from me, probably afraid that I'm gonna lash out at him again. And although I am still angry with him, I wouldn't lash out. Duly because I can't have the strength, and because I'm sure that would ruin my chances of getting Aarush to forgive me.
"What?" I ask, only slightly snippy.
"You... you look awful. What happened to you?" Concern fills his bright eyes.
I stand and take two slow steps towards him. He flinches slightly, and for some reason that bothers me a little. I blame it on my desperation for Aarush to give me what I deserve back.
"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice soft. It almost sounds like it did before John went away. But not quite, as it still has that slightly raspy aspect, caused by a collection of things.
Much to my surprise, the smaller boy shoves me away, but only gently. I stumbled slightly, catching myself on the table next to me.
"You look like you haven't eaten once since I last saw you, you idiot! And that was almost a month ago! What are you doing with yourself? I may not have known you for long, but I never took you for one to just give up."
"I'm not giving up," I say, turning my head to look out the window. The sun is sliding down the sky, the colors of sunset dripping and mixing like wet paint. "I'm praying. I want Aarush to forgive me, and give John back."
I turn back to Vance, shocked to see him looking like he wanted to punch me. "Do you realize how you sound! This is insanity, you sound like you've lost it! Maybe I don't know you, but I'm almost certain this isn't you! Why would you starve yourself for a god that, most likely, isn't even listening!"
As he speaks, my chest begins to shatter. "Because I don't know what else to do," I say simply, my eyes welling up with hot tears. He pulls me to him, clasping me in a hug. My arms hang limply at my sides for a moment, and I realize its been so very long since I've hugged someone. I think the last person I truly hugged was my sister, Anastasia, 4 years ago when I was only thirteen. John wasn't much of a hugger, and at this point, I regret never trying to hug him. I rest my face in Vance's hair, wrapping my arms around him. Tears begin to leak out of my eyes, and Vance squeezes me slightly
"I feel like I cant do this anymore," I say in a voice that's barely a whisper. "It feels like the world is collapsing in on me, I don't know what to do anymore."
"Whatever happens, you can count on me. Everyone needs a friend sometimes, that includes you, Beck."
Finally, let myself cry. Real, full-blown sobs that racked through my body. I grip the back of Vance's shirt, and steaming tears fall onto his bright hair. And Vance was there through it all. I still blamed him, and maybe that feeling would never go away, but now, at least, I forgave him.
- - -
The days move by at a normal pace for once. Life has seemingly gone back to normal. The pain still exists within me, but its getting better. I'm ready to move on to new, better things. Vance comes to visit more now, almost every other day, but he's busy with his detective work sometimes too.
I turn to look out the window, watching as rain begins to fall for the first time since my mentors murder. I still don't understand why Vance's homicidal madman went after John. And of course, Vance isn't allowed to give me information without jeopardizing his search, and maybe even his job.
So, I've basically made up my mind to take things into my own hands. Now, I know, its really time. Time for my revenge.
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