d6 • louis bainhollow

what you've witnessed

The night had begun when there's a sound of footsteps throughout the house. The man wraps his arm tightly around his wife, snuggling up beside her as he would do every night. His feet move towards hers, but she yanks them away and hisses through closed teeth. "Jeeze, Harold. Your feet are bloody freezing!" He chuckles silently, planting a kiss upon the nape of his wife's neck. He thinks she's beautiful during the night as the moonlight pours in. Of course he believed her to be beautiful all the time, but there was nothing better in his mind than seeing her smooth skin brightened by the natural light of the night sky. Neither of them heard the footsteps.

They came from the bedroom down the hall, travelling down the short staircase and into the kitchen. Harold's lips were still upon his wife's neck, moving down her shoulder now. She let out a soft breath from her lips, enjoying the feeling of the warmth upon her skin. "Harold, the kids may still be awake." Her voice was breathy as her hand snaked itself up her body. She wanted his hands on her - all over her - but the kids could still hear. "Just be quiet this time, love." He said it with a chuckle, his hand searching further down her body. The footsteps came back up the stairs and towards where the room was.

The young boy held the knife in his hand, though it didn't stay there for long. He entered into the room silently, watching as his father's hands crept down his mother's loose pants. The blade slid right across his father's neck as it would through butter, the scene turning gruesome rather quickly. There was choking. Coughing. There was blood. Screaming. Running. Chasing. Stabbing. Slicing. Dragging. Cutting. Stabbing. Stabbing. Stabbing. Stabbing. Stabbing. Stabbing. Stab-

He filled the tub with water, stepping into it with none of his clothes on in order to cleanse himself of the blood. His eyes were closed, though his mind was open. He didn't care to warm up the water, instead submersing himself in the cool liquid. The water quickly turned red, and he dunked his head beneath it to clean his face. Eyes opened then, seeing nothing but the maroon liquid surrounding him.

There was a panic then as he stumbled out of the tub, his feet touching upon the floor as quickly as he could. Eyes saw blood everywhere, though they did not understand where it came from. He scrambled across the floor, wet feet slipping across it though he quickly gained his balance. The stairs passed him as he crawled up them, the moonlight shining through one of the windows upon his naked body. The boy ran towards where the blood came from, only to smell the corpses before seeing them. He knew what he would see. He knew what had caused them. Louis Bainhollow stood bare there as he looked upon the corpses of his slaughtered parents, blood covering much of the surfaces in the room. It was Brother. He must have done this. The ten year old boy falls to the ground then with a wail, curling up against his mother's lifeless corpse.


-


"Hush little baby, no words you shall say." His mother's soft voice melodiously echoed through the room. "Mama's gonna find you a mockingjay." Her fingers moved through his hair carefully, soothing him as he prepared to go to sleep. He found himself curled up upon her knee, his head pressed against her chest as her heartbeat pounded. "And if that mockingjay won't sing." Father was out at work this evening, expected to work all through the night. Mother would have to tuck him in on her own. "Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

He knows the rest of the song. She sings it every night. He hums along quietly to it as she continues, but a thought plagues his mind. "And if that horse and cart fall down." He doesn't let her finish as his eyes turn up towards her, the blue orbs digging right into her attention. "Mommy? What happened to Liam?" Louis knows the answer. He always knew the answer. It was the same every time he asked and yet he continued to beg the question. "He's in a better place, sweetheart." His mother's voice was shaky as she spoke. He knew she got emotional every time her son was mentioned.

And yet Louis missed his brother. The older boy had never been the brightest or best kid, but he was Louis' very own brother and he wished desperately for him to return. He could remember the time where Liam was kept from school because he was caught taking the drugs home from class. He hid in Louis' room and told him all about how he had to fight all these people for them and that there was a trail of bodies where he had gone. Louis, being the six year old he was, was incredibly fascinated with all the talk his brother had. That was until he was killed by a gang on the streets. Louis knew what happened to Liam. He just didn't want to believe it.

"It's time to go to sleep, sweetheart." Those words drag him from his stupor. There was something that always troubled the young boy when it came to sleep. Part of him always struggled with actually meeting that state of mind. Ever since he was born he had always had difficulties. They had grown worse in the past few years. "I don't wanna, Mommy. Can I stay til Daddy's home?" The answer would be a no. It always was. He would stare at the ceiling above, but his mother would never buy into his insomniac ideology. She believed it was all in his head and never encouraged it. His father was a little more understanding, but still quite difficult to convince. The boy struggled silently because of it.

"You need to sleep, Louis. Now." But he couldn't. It wasn't that simple. He was young and knew he couldn't argue with his mother, but she didn't quite understand. "Mommy, they'll come to get me if I sleep. They always come to get me." She sighed and lifted the young boy off her, placing him back in the bad. She said no words as she left the room and shut the door, ignoring the calling of her son. "Mommy, wait, come back! Please, Mommy!" It turned to cries and then shouts but then grew quiet. And yet he still sat awake, staring at the ceiling and into the expanse of monsters that lie within his head.

He was haunted by them. They were always there. When he looked in the mirror he did not see the young boy with the messy hair, the bright blue eyes and the incredibly bruised eye sockets. He saw a creature with long legs and long arms that was disfigured and deformed. Its eyes were bloodshot and seemed to burn with a fiery passion, but he was a monster. He was afraid of letting that monster get the better of him whilst he slept. Louis avoided sleep like it was the plague, knowing full well that the monster inside would come out and hurt the ones he loved while Louis couldn't protect them. It happened to Liam. That's how his brother had died, not the gangs. He was sure of it.



-



The boy stepped towards the orphanage, his eyes focused on the ground. His parents had already been observed and were deemed to be murdered. The Keepers said they'd investigate it. They didn't care for Louis' cries and screams that he knew who did it and that they'd need to find his brother. That his brother was responsible. They simply shook their heads and passed him along to new hands. He was given to the orphanage, expected to live out his days here as a child until he was adopted. His eyes burned with exhaustion, his ninetieth hour of wakefulness having passed long ago. He rubbed them absentmindedly, not looking at the building that loomed over him. Instead he just walked in, ready for the future with the monster in his head.

what

Hi there! My name is Damen and you can find my character tracker here.