Posted about 4 years ago
Eliphas, uncaring for the half-naked fools that seemed so eager to press their flesh onto one another, instead just seated himself on the nearest chair, which, coincidentally, was close to that of the one called Kanashii.
Staring at the living frolicking in the pool, he could nonetheless not deny himself a faint trace of sadness to enter his rotten heart.
When he had been a young, living boy of no more than ten, he had tried to seek the presence of others in his village, tried to make contact, even while the sun hurt his sensitive skin and burned his near-sighted eyes.
His attempts of communication had been that of one who had spent most of his life shut inside his house, which added to the fact that most of the village looked at him with disgust and fear for his sickly appearance.
It ended when they decided that the words of the 'witch-child' were dangerous for their own children, a few of the grown men deciding to solve the problem themselves.
He remembered how he begged and cried when they took him, jammed open his jaw and struck with that hammer again and again, his desperate pleas turning to no more than a bloody, whiny choking drowned out by the sickening sound of his teeth and bone cracking.
Thus ended his first and only attempt at communication with the 'outside' world, him prone on the street, bleeding, broken and crying, while surrounded by mothers and fathers who shouted at him that finally he would never be able to taint their children.
Love to the loveless, mercy to the merciless.