Part 4

 

Screaming.

Everything was a gray, smoke-filled haze.

Even though it was night, the sky was highlighted a bright orange by what was happening on the ground below.

Fire.

Distorted sirens were blaring out loudly.

Smoke and red flame embers filled the air as a small child slowly walked across as everything was going to hell.

The area was surrounded by several gray, five-story apartment complexes. Buildings were on fire as people were running in various directions.

The child's vision was blurry, and the noise was muffled by a ringing sound in his ears.

An explosion went off near him.

The child began looking around.

Signs littered the street with words he did not know the meaning of.

Through the smoke, people were bumping into each other, trying to escape the mass panic all around them.

What was supposed to be a simple, non-violent protest to highlight the treatment and abuse of magicians and spellcasters by Russia turned into mass chaos.

Food carts turned over.

Bodies lay in the street.

People are trampling over one another to escape.

Screaming.

But still-

The small child pressed forward.

His home was just down the street; his mother was home, so the child pressed forward.

As he kept running, black cracks began to appear on the buildings as he passed by.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Suddenly, the buildings began to break apart and started to float up into the air.

Under the child, the ground broke, descending to a bottomless, red void below.

Noticing this, the child sprinted faster.

Everything around him began to distort.

The surrounding houses began to distort and break apart.

All except one.

One apartment complex was still standing—his home.

The ground began to crack, throwing him off balance, causing him to trip and slide across the floor face first.

Wincing in pain, the child slowly lifts his head to see the apartment complex.

Everything was quiet.

Suddenly, black cracks appeared over the building, causing the left side to collapse and the right side to burst into flames, which created a shockwave.

“Motherrrrr!!!!” The young child screamed out and reached out a hand.

As he did, the ground broke apart, causing the child to fall into the void below.

Falling, the child started screaming as the red void was swallowed by darkness.

 

---

August 19th, 1958

A child of twelve years old eyes opened to a white ceiling above in a quiet, dark room.

The child, not moving, lay in bed.

His face was covered in sweat, and his loud, heavy breathing could be heard.

A nightmare.

Periodically for the past two years, the child would have nightmares about that night.

Pushing himself up using his elbows, the child sat on the bed.

His gray eyes scanned the large room.

There were several children sleeping in cots spread out in the large room.

An orphanage.

This is where this child has been after losing his mother two years earlier. With no relatives to care for him, he was placed here.

Alone.

The child looked around in the room before stepping out of bed.

The floor felt cold under his bare feet as he carefully walked through the cots of sleeping children to a large door.

Opening the door, the child stepped out into a dimly lit hallway. The moonlight shone in the halls.

Everything was quiet as the child began looking around.

Nothing.

Soon, he began walking down the hall.

His footsteps were quiet as he moved along.

The child paused and stopped walking before turning to his left to gaze out a large, closed window.

Turning to face the window, he placed his hand on the cold glass.

Off in the distance, beyond the hills and snow, was what used to be his home.

“Having a hard time sleeping, young one.”

Through the calming silence, a soft voice broke out, which startled the child.

At the sound of the voice, he jumped and nearly screamed before cupping his mouth.

“Woah, easy there." The voice came from a young male who was walking up the stairs.

Lowering his hands from his mouth, the child spoke.

“Headmaster”

A young man with brown hair was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and thick green cargo pants with many pockets on the side. His black boots were melting snow as he walked up the stairs. He carried a large trench coat between his left and the side of his midsection, and with his other hand, he was unraveling his scarf from his neck.

“You’re back,” the child said as he turned around to greet the man.

"Yes, little one. What about you having a hard time sleeping?”

The child averted his eyes from the man, not answering the question.

“Is it the nightmares again?”

The child looked at the man.

“I see”

The headmaster walked up to the child, causing the child to look down.

“After what you went through that day, that is to be expected.”

The child's expression became sadder as tears began to well in his eyes.

Noticing the forming tears, the headmaster spoke.

"How would you like to prevent that from ever happening again?”