STORY STARTER
When does Kensey begin to question the true nature of The Crane, his motivations, or the cost of worshiping him?
Consider the doubts that creep in, and the catalysts for his crisis of faith.
The Price of Revenge
The air seemed to still, all wind ceased movement in the trees as if the Earth itself held a bated breath. Kensey was the first to release it, rattling against his ribcage in uneven bursts. the voice inside his head was silent. Absent. Detached. And for the first time since his parents' death, he felt truly alone.
The knife dropped to the forest floor with a dull thud, leaves and bark stuck to the bloody blade - concealing the crimson from Kensey's watery gaze.
Kensey wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel after catching his parents' killer. Vindication, perhaps. Justice. But instead, dread coiled around his chest and tightened with each breath. Looking down at the sightless eyes staring back up at him, his body ran cold. Not even the sticky August evening could quell the internal chill he felt. Tearing his eyes from the body, he spared a look to his trembling hands, laced and dripping with the blood of a life he had quickly ripped away with the swipe of a blade. Just as he felt his soul start to levitate, observing his body like a bystander, he felt that familiar flutter in the back of his mind. The acquainted voice that reverberated in his skull finally reappeared, wrapping around Kensey with all the comfort of a captor to their hostage.
"Do you feel vindicated, Ryan?" The Crane's snarl tickled his ears, his voice speaking with a new clarity that set the paralysing terror in Kensey's bones to stone.
"I killed him." He couldn't manage more than a whisper, eyes still locked to the blood that was slowly starting to dry to his hands and his clothes. Blood was always a nightmare to clean up. No amount of scrubbing could clean away the mess of a web he had spun himself. "I...I killed him. Oh Gods, what have I done?" He tilts his head skyward, vision spinning beneath of the dance of the trees. Which God would seek mercy on him now?
"This was just the beginning, Ryan. Snap out of the pitying state you're in. You are no martyr. You are who you always set out to be. Time to breathe life into it." The Crane's voice was bordering on patronising, the extended 'tsk' sending a shiver down the back of Kensey's head. His words settled like being thrown into a frozen lake. The beginning?
"What the hell do you mean?" Kensey's voice had more bite now, clenching his blood-soaked hands into tight fits and averted his gaze back to eye level, as if anticipating The Crane to come prowling from behind one of the skeleton trees surrounding him.
The God chuckled virulently, "Oh child, you didn't think revenge came without a price, did you?" His voice was everywhere and nowhere. It crept in his head like a spider across skin. It was the wind through the trees, footsteps in the ground.
Kensey spun in circles, waiting for the unmistakable beak to curl around the bark of the tree next time. Chills erupted along his skin from his toes all the way to the ends of his hair. "I already lost everything, the cost was my parent's lives. I already paid the price of loss with their deaths, t-this was...this was just balancing the scales." The tragedy was that he wasn't sure he believed the words himself.
"If you truly believe that revenge balances the scales of any act, you haven't been paying attention." The Crane didn't miss a beat. Kensey could have sworn he saw a shadow in the distance, talons scraping along the tree trunk, the blow of a long coat escaping his peripheral view. "Maybe take a closer look at the man who's blood is on your hands."
The implication made Kensey's eyes close, hoping that upon opening them, he'd be back home, his parents complaining at him for trailing dirt through the house, his friends ringing him non-stop. Gods, please no. His body moved slowly, turning back to the crime scene behind him. As if to patronise him further, the full-moon shone bright through the trees above, casting an unbridled glow on the corpse like a spotlight on a stage. Thudding vibrated his chest from where his heart tried to escape, his limbs shuddering violently.
He could feel what little contents he had in his stomach churning, making his head spin violently. But what truly knocked the air from his lungs was when he saw the face once more. No longer the sharp-suited man he had chased through the forest. Not the man who's eyes he had memorised for the past three weeks. Blue slipped away to hazel. No longer piercing. Softer, warmer. But lifeless. The suit Kensey had shredded with the blade replaced by a vest and cycling shorts. No. Gods no. "That's...that's not possible."
"The price, Ryan, is you. Your loyalty has been unwavering. You thought I was leading to balance, but I was leading you to debt." The Crane snarls. Kensey barely notices through the nausea taking over his body. He presses a bloody hand to his stomach, smearing evidence of his crime across his school shirt. "In return, I will grant you what you wish. The murderer you truly seek is on the other side of town. This man was your tie to me. Undeviating. Resolute."
Kensey runs three feet to a large oak tree before he doubles over, emptying the contents of his stomach on the forest floor. Tears spill down his cheeks, his shirt sticking to his back. Only when he's sure he has nothing more to give, does he straighten up. But his spine is still curled, doubled over in what he's sure is shock, but could easily be shame. Guilt. Fear.
Wow! I love that so much. The writing style is just perfect and the overall story is just so enticing! You’re so talented!