Ripple In Time - Chapter 6 Is It Still Murder If..?

I had to try several different places before I finally spotted him in a clearing on the south side of the Rendon Edgewood Forest. He was alone and playing with a ball, and he was talking to himself, as if acting out some story. From my cover behind the trees, however, I was too far away to see what he was saying. All I could see was the bobble of his dark brown hair, as he dashed to and fro, and the crinkle of his amber eyes each time he laughed. He seemed…happy.

The time was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to wane, casting the clearing in a beautiful orange glow. In the distance, the sound of birds chirping could be heard, accompanied by the occasional swaying of the trees. Add in a gentle breeze, and suddenly, I was hit by a wave of nostalgia, reminded of why I had loved this particular spot. It was peaceful. It was serene. And most of all, it was far, far away from the rest of my life.

I had let out a sigh then, lowered my hand, and dissipated the lightning mana I had gathered. I had leaned back against a tree and sat down. And then I had just watched, as the young boy of five played in the field before me.

At some point, I must have dozed off because I wake up to the sound of foreign voices. As my eyes open, I see a group of four boys enter the clearing, looking older than the little boy with the ball, with ages ranging between eight and eleven. The oldest boy, the eleven-year-old, appears to be the leader. He’s a stout child, with a pudgy face and short, spiky blond hair. He’s currently laughing about something, and the other three boys are leaning in, as if hanging onto his every word. Then he turns and spots the little boy with the ball. He makes a gesture with his hand and the other three boys follow his lead. The group strolls up to the little boy and surrounds him.

From my vantage point, I can see the little boy is terrified of the situation, of the strangers that just encroached on his sanctuary. When he tries to take a step back, one of the boys behind him gives him a shove forward, pushing him into the arms of another boy, who again thrusts him in yet another direction. Around and around the little boy goes, until he stumbles and falls to the ground. The ball drops from his hands and rolls a bit, before being picked up by the eleven-year-old, the leader of the group.

The leader tosses and catches the ball several times, then says something to the little boy on the ground that I can’t make out. I see the little boy respond by vigorously shaking his head, to which the leader then replies. Their exchange goes on for another minute before finally, the little boy lets out a hesitant nod. He stands up slowly, then enters a crouching stance before suddenly leaping forward at the leader of the group. It’s clear that he’s making an attempt at the ball in the leader’s hands. The leader simply takes a step to the side, however, and sticks out his foot, causing the little boy to trip and fall face first into the grass. When the little boy gets back up, I can see that his face and clothes are covered in dirt and grass stains. The group of boys are laughing, and the leader gestures at the little boy, taunting him to try again. And so the little boy does. Again, he leaps for the ball, and again, he is shoved to the ground. After the third attempt, he doesn’t get up.

A loud wail echoes through the serene forest as the little boy begins to cry. His tears only seem to enliven the group of boys, however, as their laughter and jeering grow louder. Two of the younger members of the group grab some dirt and grass from nearby and start showering the crying boy with it. Next to them, I see the leader let go of the ball, letting it drop to the ground. Then with one powerful motion, he leaps onto the ball with all his weight.

A loud pop echoes through the air as the ball deflates, becoming just a flat piece of leather. The leader picks it up from the ground and waves it around for his entourage to see. The group has a good laugh, then he tosses it to the side. The piece of leather lands on the crying boy’s back. He does not look up though. He just remains cowering on the ground, his hands tight above his head.

After about another minute of laughing and jeering, I can see that the older group of boys are slowly growing bored. Having run out of steam from the stunt with the ball, they try to taunt the little boy, prod him into further making a fool of himself, but he doesn’t respond to their attempts. He just keeps crying and ignores them.

Finding nothing left to play with, the leader loses interest. He makes a gesture to the other members of his group, and they begin to head out, towards the trees on the other side of the clearing. As they pass by my location, I get a clear view of each of their faces. I burn their appearances into my mind, then watch as they disappear further into the woods.

After the older boys are gone, I leave my cover behind the trees. Then I walk down the slight slope and towards the spot where the little boy is. As I approach, I see that he is still crying. I stop a foot away and look down at him with cold, emotionless eyes. “Get up.”

My voice is terse, and I feel my hands clench into fists. “Get up and stop crying, you worthless piece of shit.” The little boy doesn’t stop his crying though, and my eyebrow twitches in disgust. I pull my leg back and kick him in the side, hard.

The little boy groans, then rolls over onto his back. He clutches his abdomen, coughing and gasping for breath. He also shows me his unsightly face. His dark brown hair is a disheveled mess, interlaced with grass, dirt and bugs. His eyes are swollen from crying, and there’s a smattering of snot covering the lower half of his face, mixed in with foaming saliva drooling from his mouth. I feel the sudden urge to vomit just staring at him.

As I fixate my gaze on his face, I see that his eyes briefly open. When he catches sight of me, his body stiffens, and his crying abruptly stops. His mouth drops agape, and his amber eyes open wide with surprise. “You’re-!”

I don’t let the boy finish. With a primal roar, I throw myself at him, knocking him backwards onto the ground. Before he can react, I’m on top of him, straddling his chest. My hands quickly wrap themselves around his neck. But as I begin to squeeze, I realize then that they’re too small to get a good grip on the boy’s throat. He struggles and manages to throw me off balance. As I fall away, the boy pushes off and then makes a break for it.

I let out an animalistic cry before giving chase. As I run, my hands reach down and untie the black cloth wrapped around my waist. I don’t intend to make the same mistake twice.

It isn’t long before I catch up with the boy. I reach out a hand and push him in the back, causing him to lose his balance. He stumbles forward and falls, stunned for a moment. Then he quickly turns around and begins sliding backwards along the ground, away from me. His hands are raise in front of him in a futile attempt at defense. “Please, please don’t hurt me.”

Despite his begging, I aggressively move forward towards him. Then in one swift motion, I loop the black cloth around his neck, throw my legs across his chest and push him down, pinning him against the ground. The look of disgust is apparent on my face as I extend my arms, pulling taut the two ends of the cloth.

Instantly, the boy’s air supply is severed. He gasps, his eyes wild with fear. I can see the veins in his head and neck bulge from the stress, and his hands are flailing about. One hand is on the cloth, trying in vain to pull it loose. The other is hitting me in the face, trying to get me to let go. I feel his nails digging into the my skin, drawing blood. “Please-” His voice is faint and there are gaps between words as he struggles to maintain consciousness. “It hurts. I can’t-”

“Is that all?! Is that all you can say?! Is that all you can do?! This is what happens when you’re weak! When you let others walk all over you! When you blindly trust that someone has your back! To save you! Well, who’s here to save you now?! Who has your back?! There’s no one! No one in this world gives two shits about you, kid! It’s just you! It’s just you against the whole fucking world! And if you can’t fend for yourself, then you deserve what’s coming! So I ask you again! Is this all you got?! Come on! Prove me wrong! Prove me fucking wrong!”

My spittle rains down on the boy as I yell, covering his face with my saliva. He doesn’t notice though. His movements are slow and growing more feeble. “P-please-” His pounding against my face is now merely light taps. And then, they stop all together.

My grip on the cloth loosens, and I unwrap it from around his neck. Then I stand up and tie it back around my waist. As I look down at the boy, I see that his face has turned a pale blue. His bloodshot amber eyes are still open wide, but they lack their earlier vibrance, when I had first spotted him playing with the ball.

For a long minute, I stand beside the boy’s body, silent. Then, I turn and begin making my way towards the forest that’ll lead me back to the city proper. Just before I enter the forest, however, I stop one last time, look over to the clearing, to the spot where the boy’s body lay, and wave my hand through the air.

“Pyre.”