Bloodied Youth: Chapter 1

Perilous Night





Even with the crackling of the roaring fire, the sounds of his footsteps against the pavement of the alley seemed to boom in his ears as loud as thunder. Of course some part of him knew that it was his fear telling him that but that did little to stop the feeling of dread growing within his stomach. A fear that made people do stupid things, that made people miss the tell tale signs of danger that an otherwise ordinary and rational mind might be able to detect. Thus it was no surprise that he had missed the shadow that was cast on the wall that would otherwise warn him not to turn the corner so quickly. Though in his defense, he was after all only a scared fourteen year old boy.


'Oomph,' was the sound that was individual that was unlucky enough to have been standing around the corner as he toppled to the ground with the kid on top of him.


It took the young blond haired lad a moment to realize that the cold, hard thing his cheek was resting on wasn't the ground but rather a rather well crafted layer of ring mail armor.It was the very same armor that was worn by the soldiers who had arrived earlier that night on horses with spears, swords and torches. With one hand placed upon the back of the man and the other one on the ground he pushed himself up to his feet and started to continue to run in the same direction that he had intended to go in the first place. Only it wasn't as easy as he was hoping it was going to be.


'Just where do you think you're going runt!' came the rough voice of the soldier as he grasped the lad just above his ankle, pulling on it as hard as he could. The boy fell to the ground face first, and cried out in pain as he most likely chipped one of his teeth against the pavement. Looking over his shoulder he sees the instrument of his death getting to his feet and reaching for his sword. With the soldier not yet standing, he did the only thing his frantic little mind could do and kicked his free foot out at the mans face over and over again, hoping to land a good solid hit that might get him free of his imminent death.


Most of his blows had glanced off to the side of the skullcap that guarded the mans head but perhaps due to one of the few benefits that fear gave men, he was able to get a well placed blow to the mans face, hitting him with enough adrenalin enhanced force that he probably broke the guys nose as he sent him tumbling back onto his rear end. Under normal circumstances he would have stopped to congratulate himself, having always been considered something of a weakling by the other boys he associated himself with. However, fear had overridden every other aspect of his personality but his will to survive. Without bothering to look back he stood up and ran for all he was worth, down the street, back towards the fires that blazed at the heart of the city.


Within a matter of moments he was dashing out of the mouth of the alley he had been in and pausing for a moment to try to decide which way to run. The choice was made for him as he heard the sound of horses off in the distance that would lead out from the city, and the sound was getting louder by the second. No conscious thoughts went through his mind as he turned back towards the source of heat and headed in that direction as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him.


'Hey, over there, he went that way!' yelled the soldier that had finally made it to the mouth of the back alley, as one of the horses went past him.


With one of the mounted riders following him he didn't even hesitate to duck into a house that was already set ablaze. It only took a few steps into the building before he instantly regretted his decision. The scorching heat of the flames around him licked at his face, blistering his skin. The smoke that lingered in the air was so thick in there that he could barely breath at all, let alone see more than half a foot in front of himself. He knew deep down inside of himself that this very same scene was what would become of all of the homes of the port city of Verassaylis.


'By the gods Ive descended into the fifth sphere of hell itself,' his tiny voice muttered, drowned out by the sound of wood splintering under the burning heat of the fire. He started to turn around to exit the building but heard once more the beating of hooves against the street outside and quickly put an end to such notions. Grabbing a hold of part of his pants leg, he ripped off as large a piece as possible from rags he called clothes. Then he wrapped it around his face, hoping that it would help him breath a bit better. He may be in hell itself, but it was a journey into hell that he would have to make if he wanted any hope of surviving this dreadful night.


He went foreword, ducking low underneath a plank that had managed to come loose from the house and now lay against the wall. He stepped over one of occupants of the house that had cut down earlier that evening by a sword. Something that was readily apparent as gash across the mans chest. Passing it he couldn't help but get the expression of astonishment and a hint of fear from his mind. He shook his head from side to side, trying to hold back the tears, for he had known the kind baker. The man had often times given the street rats, as his gang liked to be called, a loaf of bread, a mug of milk whenever he could spare it. There was enough time for that later he chided himself, if there was a later.


With some work, and keeping low to the ground to make it easier for him to breath he managed to make his way to the back of the room. He had started to head towards one of the doors that was open but stopped. His ears had picked up what sounded like someone weakly pounding on the door that was next to him. There couldn't be someone that was still left alive in here could there? Not with this much smoke, and this much heat, after all he'd been in here for less than a full minute and already he was close to passing succumbing to there affects on the human body. Still if there was, he couldn't live with himself if there was someone still alive and he did nothing to help them.


He walked closer to the door and was about to reach out for the doorknob but stopped, metal often times absorbed heat and if he touched it he was likely to burn the flesh of his hand. The wood looked weak enough from the fire that he might be able to break the door down. Stepping back a few steps he got his shoulder ready and then rushed forward with all the force his body and weight could muster, slamming his shoulder into the door. There was a loud thud as the wood held up against his pathetic effort at freeing the victim within. He stopped for a moment, thinking that he should give up, thinking that he had to get out of this house before he wound up just as dead as the cook.


Yet just as he had almost talked himself into preserving his own life like any sane individual would do he heard the tiniest of voices from behind the door, 'Mama?'


Cynthia? It couldn't be, but somehow it was. Somehow the chefs daughter had survived the initial slaughter of her father and if she had survived then perhaps her other had too somewhere. He backed away from the door again and renewed his efforts to free her. Ramming his shoulder into the door again, and again, forcing himself to push past the pain that was shooting up his arm and into his brain. On the fifth attempt he was rewarded for his efforts as he crashed through the wood, knocking the door off of the wall. Oh it had little to do with his strength and more to do with the fact that there wasn't much of a wall left for the door to be attached too but that idea didn't occur to him as he felt as if he had done the first right thing all night.


'Cynthia, its me, its Raddock,' He said as he peered into the smokey interior of the room. Though it was clear that the fire hadn't spread inside of the room yet, it was also pretty clear that without a window that it was a death trap in this situation. The smoke would easily fill this small room and begin to kill the poor little girl within, why then had she survived. As he sat up his feet pushed a cloth that was on the floor to the side and he had his answer. The smart little devil had used that to keep the smoke from getting in to quickly that was the very thing that had saved her life long enough for him to stumble across her. That is if he could find her in all of this smoke.


A moment later he felt something tug on his sleeve of his tunic and turned his head to see the tear streaked face of the little girl, 'Raddock, wheres Mommy and Daddy?'


'Your Mommy and Daddy are...,' he didn't have the heart to tell her the truth, he wasn't even sure if four year old had started to really understand death yet, '...your Mommy and Daddy had to go away, and they've sent me to take care of you. Don't worry though you'll see them very soon.'


The little girl seemed to take that as a good enough explanation as he got to his feet and scooped her up into his arms. He wished that she had something else on other than the small nightgown that he could use to cover her face with but there wasn't anything. So he took his makeshift scarf off of his face and wrapped it around her face before he exited the room. By now the blazing inferno had doubled in its hellish appearance, with almost everything outside of the girls room on fire. It was clear he had no more time for anything other than escaping with their lives.


He rounded the corner and entered into the room he had intended too from the beginning, the one with the window that would take him out the back. This room had caught on fire at some points so he had to do his best to keep the girl covered with his own body as he maneuvered around boards and furniture that was on fire. There was a small fire on the wooden floor board that was separating them from their escape but it was small enough that he was able to hop over it with only getting minor leg burns. Something that would have been worse had his pants legs been longer, so it was probably best that he had taken the material to make the scarf from that.


Still as he landed on the other side he did wince in enough pain that he fell to his knees and had to reach out with his hand to grasp something to keep from falling forwards onto Cynthia. Whatever it was he grabbed was exceptionally hot as he pulled his hand back instantly from the pain that shot up his body. He bit down in his lip, drawing blood as he suppressed the scream, turning it into more of a loud grunt. He glanced over at what it was that had burnt him so only to see that he had grabbed the metal foot of the bed, a bed that was burning with fire. However what was truly shocking was what was left of the charred body in the middle of that flame and instantly he knew that the girl was now an orphan just like him.


He covered Cynthia's head to keep her from looking at the bed, 'Its nothing honey, I just burnt my hand, that's all, just a little burn.'


Looking around for anything to break the window and finding nothing he took his elbow and slammed it into the glass, cutting himself all along his forearm. It was perhaps due to the adrenalin again that he was able to keep going despite the pain. He pushed the girl up towards the window and let her climb through it first. He wasn't worried about the drop, he knew that she could handle the few feet to the ground since she often times jumped down from higher places like that. Shed had gained the reputation as being the little child monkey among the street rats after all. He was about to follow suit when he felt something grabbing the shoulder of his good arm and whipping him around quickly.


'I got you this time runt,' growled the same soldier he had kicked in the face earlier, only this time his sword was already drawn and its point was aimed right for his neck...