“Are my mom and dad…” Mark said in a frightened tone, holding back wave after wave of sobbing building up inside of him.
“Dead,” the man said in a serious tone, “Yes.” He said, this time in a much calmer one “Their deaths were necessary, you see son.” The man said as he rubbed the back of Mark’s head, “Your parents gave birth to two of the strongest musicians alive today, and unfortunately…we can’t have that.” There was a distinct sound of a gun being cocked.
“Mr. Leviathan,” the female voice said “Aside from the fact that the boy’s parents already hid the boy, probably very far away from this location. We just barely caught them trying to smuggle this one out of the city…I fear we have no other option to leave no witnesses to this…and try our luck another day sir.”
“Unfortunately Mrs. Loft,” Mr. Leviathan said, “I think you are right about this, try again another day, finish one of them off now and hopefully we can force the other one out of hiding here soon enough…proceed Mrs. Loft.”
“Mr. Leviathan,” Mark’s voice faltered just a bit, “I-If I do die tonight…can I make one last request.”
“It seems only right,” My. Leviathan said “What is your request Mark?”
“I want to see your face…just one time; I want to know who the demon is.”
“Your vocabulary is very advanced for a five year old,” Mr. Leviathan said in a stern tone, “But I cannot deny a final request…remove the sack Mrs. Loft.”
She seemed very hesitant at first, but as the sack came off from around his head his eyes adjusted for a few moments, he looked up and saw the man known as Mr. Leviathan.
“Are you satisfied now Mark?” He said, his dark skin made it hard for Mark to see him, his bald head gleamed a little in the moonlight as he turned, his silver pressed suit shimmered for a moment in the pale moonlight, but it was him…Mr. Leviathan.
As the sack was carefully put back around his head, he slowly started to hum, lower so they couldn’t hear what he was doing, and as he hummed he felt something inside of himself. Like a warm feeling washed over him, he could hear the songs his parents normally listened to around the house, his dad always preferred heavy metal as oppose to his moms more delicate type of music such as breaking Benjamin and skillet, always peacefully in their house. As he hummed he started to slowly hum and sing the tune to one of his favorite songs, one his dad had let him listen to just a few days ago…
“Now the dark beings to rise save your breath it’s far from over.”
“Stop him!” Mr. Leviathan said in a stern voice, the feeling of the barrel of the gun being pushed up against his head was a warning for him to stop.
“you better stop kid, or maybe I’ll just happen to miss and prolong your suffering,” Mrs. Loft said, clearly wanting him to stop what he was doing, but he couldn’t, he wanted to do what his parents would have wanted him to do.
“Leave the lost and dead behind, now’s your chance to run for cover.”
“I told you to stop!” Mrs. Loft said, she smacked the barrel of the gun across the back of his head, it didn’t knock him out, but it did piss Mark off to no extent.
“I don’t want to change the world I just want to leave it colder!”
“Mrs. Loft!” Mr. Leviathan said in an angry tone, “If you cannot make him stop by threatening, then put an end to him.”
“Light the fuse and burn it up, take the path that leads to nowhere!” As Mark sang the lyrics to the words, he noticed that he could not only hear the song inside of his head, he could actually sing the lyrics to the song pretty well, almost identical to how the lead singer actually sung the song. “All is lost again,”
“Kill him!” Mr. Leviathan yelled at Mrs. Loft.
“As you wish Mr. Leviathan” she said putting the barrel to the back of Mark’s head “what a shame,” She said, her finger on the trigger “You do have a lovely singing voice. She pulled the trigger, the barrel’s end filled with smoke in a matter of just a few Nano-seconds.
“But I’m not giving in!!!”
“Oh god!” Mr. Leviathan yelled “We are too late…”
Sorry for not showing you the first half of the story my friends, but as a famous person once wrote down in a book, “Share bits and pieces to your story, but never connect the dots until it’s done.”