Awakening

“Mom!” The boy called, he'd seen things that weren't quite right, ghosts everyone called them. This time had been different that was why he ran. She always knew the answer, she always knew what it meant. Why he was so different, why other mothers worried about their children going near him. He was different, why he saw what he did, why sometimes he knew things he didn't. Why people were afraid of him, even though he was only ten.

She came out from behind their small secluded house, worry brought forth merely from the tone of her young son's voice. Their was none of the excitement of his discoveries or even the sadness as he found out why someone stayed behind, it was fear that colored her dear son's voice.

“Mom, I don't know what happened but everyone is so angry” He told her, unnaturally dark looking up at her. “but it was different everyone saw them, they just appeared they weren't like anything else, not the spirit or the ghosts or even the thing that made the cattle sick last year, they were were ..” His ramble trailed off as he tried to figure out what they were.

“they were gods” She said voice barely more then a whisper, fear turning to a dread that made her ill.

“What did they mean it was time to awaken?”He asked, his mother really did know everything.

“That we have to leave. Go inside and get your things, and be quick alright,” her urgent voice carefully concealing a pain that she wished she could have waited to face. Fate would not be so kind.

But he was not nearly quick enough, as the townsfolk had been eager to assemble, a dark muttering mass rallied behind the white robed priest.

“Go home! You have no idea...” The mother began, mustering every bit of courage she could muster to face the mob.

It was useless. “No idea of what? How you and your littler death child is harmless? We have dealt wit you and your abomination of a child for long enough!” The pious fearful priest proclaimed.

“We just want to be left alone!” She yelled voice desperate to be heard.

“Don't we all, Thats why we much be rid of blights against Life and light like you and your little death touched son!” The priest passionate piety lending his words strength and sway over the murmuring crowd.

“He's never done anything to any of you!” She pleaded, why wouldn't they just listen she wondered bitterly.

“He made my cows sick!” a farmer accused, his voice followed by many others. How else would he know what would happen if he wasn't the cause.

“I didn't do any of that” The boy told them, young and innocent face fearful and confused.

“Look! He's been bestowed with the weapon of death! We must be rid of them before they kill us all!” The commanding voice of the priest was echoed by the mob as it moved with the will of an ill begotten creature..

“Why can't you Just leave us alone?” The mother pleaded coming towards them, her eyes tearful.

“Be silent witch!” The priests commanded, with a brutal backhand.

“Mother!” They boy cried as she was knocked to the ground, “Leave my mother Alone!” he shouted charging at the white clad priest, anger something he had felt so rarely burned though him like fire born by blood, consuming him.

“Kill him!” he commanded, they could deal with him.

She recovered quickly, just quickly enough or perhaps far to quickly. “Stop!” She pleaded. Her voice was unheard, they were deaf to reason.

“Run!Just run ...!” She begged him, she had found speed and strength enough to stop him. But it wasn't enough. Her words died, as the sharpened end of a priests holy symbol stole her breath.

“How could you! How could you kill HER!” The boy yelled young voice ragged, innocent face contorted. Sorrow and something far more dangerous coursing through him. His breathing became a pant, and his knuckles whitened around the darkly gleaming weapon he held in soft innocent hands.

“Why?” He gasped, he couldn't control it, the curse given strength. Far to powerful for such a vulnerable child to control.

They didn't have time to wonder why the air chilled, or why the sun seemed to dim as the grass around him wilted withered and died.

“Leave!” One word uttered with such fierce power and followed by such a deadly strength.

It exploded from him, a rushing river against far to weak a damn.

It destroyed them all the life destroying energy following the deadly desires of the sorrow stricken boy.

For a moment they understood, not that it mattered. For regret is for the living

The boy was the last to fall, weeping he clutched the lifeless body of his mother. Exhausted he slept.