Chapter 1

Lev, an ordinary teenager just trying to force his way through his final s****y years of high-school. Paris, a man drowning in a life shrouded within his own lies.

"You know, you're not as evil as everyone says you are."

"I know. I'm much worse."

The little boy looked down at his feet and giggled softly. It was soft, and coarse. The boy's dark hair fell over his face like soft wisps across his forehead, with a thick strand finding it's place in between his two golden eyes. Another giggle filled the air, and the boy looked up at the man with a mischievous look. 

"You're funny, Mister."

The man peered down through mocha eyes and frowned. The kid wasn't normal. That fact had been given away at first sight. The boy's skin was while, molted, and peeling away from the exposure to the elements. Little drops of blood pooled up from the scabs and dripped down in thick tears down the boy's knuckles. Mud was smeared across his soft features. His knees. Arms. Hands. All covered, as though a child had scribbled over them with charcoal, and tried to remove it in a way that it smudged and spread the black. And yet. Yet a soft, almost inhuman smile had found it's way across the boy's face. 

"Oi Brat, don't call me Mister. You make me sound old."

"But aren't you old, Mister?"

"I'm 18."

"And I'm 10. We aren't that far apart, now are we?" The kid said with slight amusement. The kid crouched down,  and lifted the hand of a lifeless body that lay sprawled across the floor. He examined it for a moment, like a new born calf still learning the ways of life,  before letting it go and watching in amusement as it fell onto the ground with a thud. The boy grinned and picked up the hand yet again, only this time grabbing the index finger and shoving it up the nostril of the body. He giggled and stood up, tugging at the other man's coat.

"Neh Mister, do you think I'm funny too?" 

"No." He was twisted.

The boy pouted, jutting out his lower lip. "Aww, but I wanted to be funny too."

"Too bad, kid," the man replied, sitting down on the curb of the parking lot. His hands reached deep within his pocket, and pulled out a cigarette. The kid, it seemed sat down next to him as well before demanding to know what the stick in his hand was. Did the boy honestly not know? Had he never seen a cigarette before? Not bothering to answer back, the man lit the end of the butt and pressed it against his lips, letting the bitter smoke in, burning his nostrils. He swirled it around a little in his mouth, before swiftly blowing it out, watching as it slowly vanished into thin air. Moments later, the buzzing started, numbing the pain the man felt from the injuries of the fight. He let the sensation take over. Let the buzzing calm him down, and take a clear note of his surroundings.

Cars lay scattered across the parking lot, skid marks following not far behind them. Broken glass and bullet shells scrambled across the parking lot. Men in black suits and white lab coats lay scrambled across the wet floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a woman draped on the head of a white car. "Huh, it really does look black in the moonlight," he mummered to no one in particular.
He heard a soft strangled moan and the man's attention turned to the captive merely a few meters away. He'd tied him, and taped his mouth shut with duct tape, but it hadn't kept the captive from sniffling and letting our torrents of tears. 

Disgusting.

The captive was probably in he late 30's. He had short black greasy hair. Body chubby, and plump. Fat sagging out from rim of his belt, and jiggling every time the man moved and shook. He could hear the old man's silent wailing, suffocating with each breath he took in an ordeal to calm himself down. He supposed he couldn't blame him though. Afterall, he had broken the old man's leg in half, to prevent any further struggling. Sighing, he took another drag from the smoke. 

Inhale.

The man turned his attention back to the boy, who sat quietly smiling up at the man. The boy looked innocently wild. And something in the man, made him not want to off with the boy's life. He'd have to finish his mission and get rid of all witness. That included the boy. 

Exhale.

"You know, I'm gonna have to kill you too, right?" he found himself asking. The boy looked so unafraid. Maybe he just wasn't aware of his current situation. In shock, perhaps? Or trauma, as the doctors called it. The man did not know.

"Oh, I know that, Mister!" the boy rested his head on his hand unconcerned and grinned. His face growing more feral. "But you wouldn't do that."

The man chuckled. "And how would you know that?"

The boy looked up wide eyed and the look in his eyes became softer. "Did you just laugh, Mister? Does that mean I'm funny now?" He looked up with a hopefully, unruffled by the man's words.

"Sure kid, Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Please do not call me a kid. We truly aren't that far apart."

"Then how about you don't call me 'Mister,' ok?"

"And what must I call you otherwise, Mister? I have no knowledge of your name."

The man looked at the boy amused. "And I have none of yours either, kid."

The boy tilted his head thoughtfully. "Ahh...I suppose you are correct." His eyebrows furrowed a little in concentration. "They seem to call me Lilith."

"Lilith, huh?" The man frowned and looked down at the boy's petite face. Lilith. It didn't suit him. The name, was too dark for a child. Maybe when the boy grew older, the name would be more fitting, but for now, the man couldn't help but feel off saying the name outloud. "I'll tell you what, kid. I'll call you Lily."

The boy raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to a side, gazing at the man, as though he were trying to figure out some secret that the man may have been hiding. "Lily. Lily....Lily," the boy repeated again and again trying to sound the name between his lips. The smile returned and the boy beamed as though he's been told the biggest secret of all time. "Lily!! It's cute! It sounds cute. I like cute things. Cute! Cu-ute!!...neh, mister. What's your name?"

"Paris," the man replied and stood up walking towards the captive. He hit the side of the man's head with the but of his gun, and watched as the old man went limp, falling to the ground. Paris grabbed the old man by the collar of his shirt, and dragged him to the car, throwing the body carelessly into the back on the trunk, before walking to the driver's side of the car. He turned to around to see the boy standing there, glumly looking at the ground, kicking a stone around. Smile long gone.

"Oi brat, what are you doing standing there like some lost sheep. Hurry up, and get in the car. I don't have all day," Paris muttered, getting inside the black sedan. He turned to see Lily rushing towards the car, opening the door, and climbing inside the seat. Paris waited for Lily to put his seatbelt on, but when the boy didn't make any move or effort to reach for it, he motioned his head towards the seatbelt, trying to tell Lily to put his seatbelt on. Lily on the other hand raised an eyebrow and looked at Paris baffled. Paris sighed, reaching over the boy's shoulder. Grabbing the seat belt, he pulled it across the other's body clicking it in place. Lily on the other hand frowned at looked at Paris with bitter eyes.

"Why are you restraining me? It's not going to protect you. If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it by now. Are you like them too?" The boy snarled, baring his teeth like a wold ready to pounce on its prey.

"What on earth are you going on about, kid? It's a seat belt. A goddamn seat belt. It's for your own safety not mine," Paris spoke. "Besides, as if a kid like you could hurt me. You have no power over me."

A sly smile slid back onto Lily's face. "You sure about that?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation.

Lily on the other hand giggled. "You're funny. I like you, Paris."

"I thought you only liked cute things."

Lily nodded frantically. "I do! I do! That's why I like you, Paris! Paris is cute! He's tiny and small and grouchy like a little cat!"

Paris twitched at that. "I'm eighteen, you little dipshit! And I am not little."

"Oh I know, but you look younger. And you are little."

"Don't make me kick you out," Paris huffed, a little irritated. Who's this boy think he was? Paris was much taller and larger than he so how dare this kid call him short. It was he who was short and tiny, not him!

"Only for the time being, Paris. Only for the time being," the boy hummed as though he'd read Paris's mind. Lily looked outside pointing at the birds up high. Telling him, how pretty and free they were, and how they turned ugly when people tried to contain their beauty. The boy was strange. There was no doubt about that. He talked much too mature for his age. Completely fearless, and there was a very wild feeling about him. As though he were some predator that'd been kept captive and longing for revenge. Paris wondered why he hadn't been able to kill the boy. He took another turn, and just before they exited the lot, he spared one last look at the white van from which the boy had come out from. Paris let out a breath he'd been holding in and turned his attention back to the road, driving away. 

He let his eyes linger out to the small streak of light that peered just below the horizon, before the went away for good, wrapping the night sky in a big black bag of nothingness, with only the flickering of his headlight to illuminate his path. 

-o-

"Hello, Le-e~"

Great. Becky. "What do you want, Becky?"

"Don't be like that Le, I know you're happy to see me," she explained, jutting her hip out from one side, and running hand through her red hair. "Everyone is."

"Don't call me that and no! I'm not happy to see you here. For christs sake, I don't like you Becky!" Lev exclaimed his head still embedded in the crook of his arm. He frowned and lifted his head to look at Becky. Her ginger hair was put up in curls today. She wore a backless white shirt consisting of a few flower pattern at the front, and short shorts. Like really short. To the point where he could see her upper thigh jutting out a little. Gods, why did he even decide to look there in the first place? What was he thinking? He groaned and looked around the empty classroom hoping that maybe one of his friends would be there to rescue him. No one.

Strange.

"I know you like me, Le! When are you going to stop denying it, and declare your love for me. Everyone already knows that we are together!" Becky said, placing one hand on her hip, and the other resting on his table. 

Lev groaned and shoved his head back in his arms. "I'm not in love with you, and we are not together! Honestly, just leave! You are ruining my morning with your ugly pug face."

Becky gasped and her blue eyes grew wide. "Did you just call me ugly, Le??"

"Did you hear anything else?" Lev murmured.

"Ugh, I'll let it go this time! But next time, do not insult your girlfriend again!" 

"Then don't go calling yourself my girlfriend either!! I hate you!" He retorted

Becky ignored him, turning around on her heels, and marching off, her heels making a clicking sound that echoed through the hallways. 

Lev sighed in relief and leaned back in his chair to look at the empty classroom. His life was a mess. School. Home. Hell, even his friends were their own version of insane. F**k this. He looked back up at the clock. 

Thirty minutes into class? Strange. No one was here. Not a soul, at least not since Becky left. Perhaps the clock was just messed up, like usual, and maybe Lev had somehow managed to wake up, and come to school really early. Nah, scratch that. Lev could miss an entire apocalypse, but never would there be a day that Lev came to school early. No. Not at all. 

Maybe today was PD day. Perhaps they'd canceled school for today, and the more Lev continued to ponder on his situation, the more it seemed unlikely. If school was off, his friends would've surely told him. They never missed an opportunity to hang out when there was no school. They were family. More of a family than any of them could ever have. 

Sighing, Lev grabbed his phone off the table, placed his earbuds in, and walked out the door. His fingers tapped on the screen anxiously, finding his friends phone contact, and starting to call them one by one. His steps quickened, and breathing frantic. This wasn't right. They always picked up. Ok, maybe not Jack, but that was a whole different case. At Least one of them should have picked up. Yet no reply. He sent voicemails, telling them to stop being jerks and quit this prank they are playing. And still, no call. 

Beep. 'Hey you have reached, Fean Micasher. If I don't answer or pick up the phone, it means I'm either sleepin' or don't want s**t to do with ya. So if ya got nothin' better to do, f**k off or leave a message. Now piss off jackass, and quit tryin' to call me!' Beep.

Lev's finger shook dramatically as he put the phone up closer to him mouth. "Hey Fean..i-it's me. Lev. Please, if you get this m-message, call back. No one's here. The entire school is empty!! Call me back asap! P-please." Beep.

It was probably some joke, that the whole school seemed to be part of, except for Becky. Becky. That's it! This must be all another part of Becky's games. Growling, he spun around on his heels and sprinted off the the direction where he'd last heard the clicking of her 6 inch heels. His legs moved through the empty hallways, footsteps echoing against the marble. He had to find Becky. His friends were only playing another cruel joke on him, and it was about time they stop. Maybe if he caught Becky, he could force her to speak. Nothing too serious, maybe just a few threatening glares and insults. That should work. Afterall, Becky was not one to be strong....or so he thought.

It was all Becky's fault. That's what Lev kept telling himself as he sprinted down the empty halls. The lights all off, as though the janitor had forgotten to turn them on the hour before school started. But in reality, the janitor had never came to school in the first place. If the janitor never came, then where was he? Where was everyone else?

Light peeked in through the tinted windows, lying on the tiled floor like sweet honey, giving off a solf orange hue. It would've been a rather pretty sight, if it weren't for the irony of it all. Such a calming sight, so contradicting to the thundering of his heart. The sky was no longer a big blob of ink, not yet a blue, but more a warm sunflower, glistening as the occasional spear of light pierced through the soft coral blankets that lay gently smeared across the surface. Unlike the storm that churned within the quiet of his mind, it was calm. The sun was rising, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was not Becky's fault. It was just denial, he knew that. Something was wrong. Different. Just like the warmth that covered his olive coloured skin.

The sun had brought the rise of a new day. He was just afraid that this time it would also bring upon the birth of a new world. The calm before the storm.

Author's Note

See a mistake or something out of place? Tell me!

Reviews

[Brendan Charles]

I found this to be well formatted, and you had a very strong set of opening lines, which can often be one of the hardest things to do. You show an in-depth understanding of proper writing style, which enables your writing to transition smoothly. The plot is interesting, and gives just enough detail to keep the reader curious. All in all, I think you've done well with your writing, at least to the extent that I have seen.