A Wicked Path

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Angel

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It was a dark evening in the town of Eden but a brightly lit one to compensate. Eden was named after a man who had died in that valley protecting his people from a barbaric tribe from the north. Now it was a small city with little to do and a lot to say, meaning it was little more than a tourist attraction. Jacklin didn't mind this, the people who came through were from all over the world and she loved sitting at the front of her uncle's cafe and practicing the art of drawing the crowds. All the shapes and sizes were so varied, the faces so defined. She found it was a shame she couldn't draw their accents.

The streets of Eden were rocky and preserved since the day they were built in by the conquering force of the Roman Empire. The only other thing that hadn't changed within the town of Eden was the architecture. Heavy and wooden, much like the tools Jacklin used. She sketched another face of a sunny, curly-haired children running along with a stick of fairy floss before retiring to the upper levels of the little cafe. Locally famous but internationally neglected. Jacklin didn't mind this either.

After reaching the room she shared with her sister, she looked own onto the people and the city lit through midnight. It wasn't much, but it was home. It was quiet, but it was home. It was somewhat boring without the tourist season, but it was home.
 
Henry gripped the sheets and cried as the next laceration was made across his skin. His father laid down that knife and looked at his red, bloody and cut back. Henry pushed his head into the sheets as now a whip was drawn across his back. He screamed into them as more blood welled up into the bed around him, dying the sheets red. His body convulsed and thrashed as more and more of his skin was torn away, making him cringe harder. His eyes were filled with tears and he rolled around to get away.

"You're punishment for that test isn't over," His father seethed. Now he held what looked like a bottle of poison. In fact, it was rubbing alcohol. Recognizing hte bottle, he cried, "No father, please don't!" His dad twisted him over and pushed him into the damp sheets, "For your own good," He hissed in response. He opened the bottle up and simply poured the contents all over his cuts. Henry's scream were audible across the household, even more guttural than normal. He leaned into the bed and whimpered as everything burned and stung.
 
Jacklin slept soundly through the neon lights and drunken calls. She was quite ignorant of the goings on of the little city. It was pretty enough and was cleaned every morning, like her teeth. She bounced down to the kitchen, cooked up breakfast for the rest of the denizens of the little apartment and hovered outside. It was raining today. Hardly the weather for drawing, she thought to herself as her lips twisted in disapproval. She went back inside and collect her rain coat, umbrella, rain boots and satchel. Altogether, she looked like a big, puffy, waterproof cloud. A walking contradiction.

She stepped out into the puddle which lay outside her door and into the gloomy downpour.
 
Henry's father rubbed a cloth down with the rubbing alcohol, then he started rubbing it up and down his scars. Henry kept screaming and crying as the burning sensation was becoming unbearable. All he wanted to do was pass out, but his father wouldn't let him. In fact, passing out would actually be painful for him in the end, for he would take it as a 'sigh of weakness' and hurt him more. Instead Henry hung onto his mind and kept screaming until both his body and throat were raw and sore.

His father slapped him, sending a vibration down his body, "Shut up."
 
The heavy layers kept the rain out alright. She was drier than the inside of an unused hotel room. Speaking of which, she ducked into the dripping remains of a burned down hostel at the edge of town. It was a private place, an almost magical place. Of course, there was no magic involved further than that which was applied by her own imagination but who cares? It was her place and she did with it as she pleased. One of things which pleased her was ducking around the back into the cellar.
 
Henry's father finally finished with him slowly. The boy turned and saw him start to clean the knives, wiping down his blood onto his sheets. Henry pulled on a jacket and stood up. The lacerations burned him down, making him wince and cry a bit more. His father saw this and laughed, "Awh, you can't handle a few cuts?" He sneered, then he smacked him with the flat of a blade. Reeling from the blow, Henry ran out of the room, gasping and groaning as his cuts stretched, then he threw his door open into the rain and ran.

Henry had no idea where he was going, he just knew that he'd be stuck here. HE couldn't leave though, or else they'd find out about his father. They'd find out about his sister. They'd take him away. HE couldn't let that happen to Ally, or else he'd suffer badly. His eyes slick from the rain, he stumbled until he came to a dark blob on the horizion. He stumbled into it and collasped.
 
Jacklin jumped at the sudden knock on the cellar doors. At first she ran back to hide behind the small amount of furniture that lay across the stony room. A few nicely placed wine racks sufficed for the first few minutes but no wine rack could withhold Jacklin's suspense. She crept across the cellar and up the stairs and listened to the upward-opening doors. Nothing but the patter of rain. All was not yet resolved.

Jacklin pushed against the doors but they wouldn't shift an inch. She took another step on the stairs and used her shoulders to lift her entry but she only shifted the door a mere centimetre before it felt back into its place. A fear ran through her being. Was she to be stuck here? Was it a stone that was blocking her way? She beat against the doors.

"Hey!" she shouted roughly. "Let me out!"
 
Henry screamed in shock as something downstairs in the cellar moved. Then, when it thumped against the door, he jumped and ran away from them, but his scars kept him from moving too far. The pain was intense, so he barley moved a few inches away. He moaned and cried out, then the door opened.

Whimpering, he covered his face, "Don't hurt me, please! All I wanted was a dry place to sleep! Please don't make me go please!" He started crying towards the direction of the person.
 
Jacklin flung the doors open and the rain pounced on her in all its dreaded wetness. She cursed and closed them quickly, grateful to know that she could break free. Just as the doors closed, she heard the cries of a shadow. She opened the doors again and ran out. She fell toward into the mud as she attempted to make her way to the figure. She fell a short way away from him and now she was as soaked to the bone as he was.

"Who the hell are you?" she screamed. She was weary of strangers, even if this one did whimper in a huddle in the rain. People rob here all the time, they even try to pickpocket the locals!
 
Henry curled up and started crying, "I'm Henry! Please just let me stay! Just one night, I'm begging you! Please, or else I'll freeze tonight!" He sobbed, holding his hands. Now every wound throbbed, every single fiber burned in his body. He moaned and leand back.
 
"Henry who?" Jacklin demanded firmly. His screams could belong to any actor. She left her phone in the coat down in the cellar, she wasn't going to take any chances knowing that. She got up, and looked down at him. "Henry who?"
 
"Henry Girdan, Henry Girdan!" He cried, sobbing. His wounds kept burning form his hunched pose, "Please just let me stay!" He felt some blood start flowing down his arm.
 
"Henry what?" she called again. The rain made it hard to hear. She almost regretted standing over him while he was curled up like that. She definitely regretted it a moment after.

"Oh, god!" Jacklin screamed as blood spot darkened and expanded and dripped across his being. She begins to haul the boy up and onto her shoulder. "Get up, get inside." she yelled at him. Her mind was spinning with so many things. Concern, suspicious, urgency and more spilled out into the open air.
 
Henry screamed as her hands dug into his wounds, "get off get off get off!!!" He cried. Her action was making him bleed more.
 
Jacklin was shocked by his agonised screams that she dropped the boy. According to her own coordination, she tripped over him and fell back down also. She cursed, feeling something shift out of place but not too far.

"You have to get inside," she insisted. "Come on!" She rose again, falling due to her knee and rose again. Panic was all she was capable. "Let's go, you're bleeding. You'll die!"
 
Henry just crawled towards her, bleeding more. A blood trail was visible, "leave me...I'm not worth it..."
 
"Shut up!" Jacklin screamed as she hauled up the figure for the second time. Her nerves faded and she reapplied her aim with a clearer head. If this person was going to die, they were not going to die to due to her ungodly negligence. He was heavy and sticky and wet and she didn't care. She had no room in her mind to care, just to observe, note and forget in the same moment.
 
Henry helped her as best he could by moving. He moaned and shuddered and more blood just kept flowing. Death right now would be a favor. He didn't deserve it, but it'd be a favor. He moaned and collapsed inside.
 
As soon as she flipped who she now saw was a boy, she fetched her jacket and lay it onto him. She didn't know how to stop his bleeding. She reached for her phone and started to dial the emergency number of the area. She paused, feeling her attachment to her place being ripped from her but then continued the task. Her secret would not cost lives this morning.
 
Henry turned, "Don't call them! They'll find out about my sister!" He whined, hugging the jacket, "Please please! My dad will find out and then he'll kill her!"
 
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