Ansel Iidie Abakoltrante

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Summary

It starts with a betrayal. A young boy left to fend for himself. And the only path forward is through hell.

Status
Ongoing
Chapters
18
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
18+

Memories of a child. | I., II., III.

I. In silence, accurate memories of that place returned to him as if he were still there. Trees grew upwards and gnawed at the top as the bars of the cage. “This path is good”, he ran. A silhouette flashed. Wolf. Devoured him with its eyes. Iidie turned back into the other path. He jumped into the third, the next. And… He returned to the fork. From large, leafed branches he built walls, on the sand with his finger he joined the branches and fell to the ground inside. The rain stopped on the walls and flowed down so that inside was dry, warm, safe.

Suddenly, the heavy door opened with a crunch, and a powerful figure looked at him. How he escaped from there remains inexplicable. He ran, ran, ran... Blindly believing in his way. Darkness, fear, loneliness, a flood of thoughts. For the first time, he was completely responsible for his own freedom. And so afraid of losing her.

The silhouette from the bed in the corner of the room approached.

“Iidie... Iidie...”

The kid flinched, than calmed, as if he was going to fall asleep... flinched again. Ritra brought his hand closer, trying to wipe the boy’s tears. When he touched him, a powerful shock shook the child.

“Calm down… Calm down… Everything is…”

A violent sob stirred the caregiver’s chest.

“I’m here” he put his foot to Iidie’s foot.

II. 1. Again the big man stared at him all night. The feeling in the stomach was like eating something rotten. It wasn’t until the other end of the room—one hand on the handle of the knife, the other on the string with which the knife was tied to the paranoidly tight belt—that he breathed. He never wanted something like that to calm him down. He knew how disgusting it was to find solace in being able to inflict suffering. But he was not able to do it any other way. For two years, he has been constantly waiting for danger, waking up every day ready to fight or flee. He no longer had the strength to reproach himself for the iniquity of judgment. All his attention was drawn to the nagging premonition of something bad. Prophetic, if not happening every morning. When even a little of his thoughts began to wander along the unexplored paths of a child’s imagination, his sense of responsibility towards guarding his own safety made him come back to the ground. Like every child, he wanted to have bigger dreams than seeing the sky every morning. Instead, he checked today. It was there. He experienced another miracle. Only his eyes hurt terribly.

2. He didn’t like being outside. It was a human forest with hidden wolves. People bent over him like trees. He recognized them by their shoes and feet, and in his imagination those were talking. He hated the hands because those worked for the spirits from above. In his understanding, everyone had a lot – Ritra had some cool ones, but most of them terrible ones – they could change their authority very quickly. Iidie’s success depended on satisfaction of those. Ritra’s spirits were restless today. He closed in on himself so as not to irritate them. He also suppressed an involuntary cough.

3. The caregiver’s nervousness, was child’s stress. The pressure in lungs took away his calm breathing, and as always when he walked fast, he could not breathe.

Ritra’s spirits were unpleasant, growling with a wolf warning. The man was throwing himself and suffering. Iidie didn’t want to know why. He will come back when they are favorable. He grunted. Coughed. The farther he went, the harder it was for him to hold back. He was choked by a coughing attack. For a moment he thought he was dying. He fell in a narrow alley.

But after a while he caught his calmer breath and felt his heart pound calmer and calmer.

4. Soon after, a tall, strong silhouette peeked from the bright wall. Iidie jumped behind the rotten board and grabbed the knife without moment of thought. Potent boots took a step towards him. Strong and dangerous, walked as if trained in hunting, and stained the sand with fresh blood. Iidie growled warningly. The shoes came closer. They heard a loud bark. They straightened up, left.

Iidie waited before breathing. Wolf. There were not many of them and it was difficult to recognize them, besides, they did what they wanted and did not always attack, but every encounter was possibly deadly. He saved his live. Today it worked, but one of the sunrises he may not see if not alert. He would probably have to fight or flight if those shoes see him again, and honestly he preferred neither.

5. Ritra was good at finding him. Even too good. Usually, when Iidie calmed down and didn’t think, he managed to hide. This time the man stumbled upon him, still hidden behind the board. He was tired as after a mighty battle, yet the good spirit took supremacy over the others. Then the man would become gentle and warm like home, giving all attention and worthy of telling everything.

Iidie didn’t want to tell him anything. He really didn’t want to. There were other spirits who listened. Like the one this morning. This one was a bad one. Just like all the other spirits he didn’t understand. He didn’t want to say anything. He wanted to keep everything to the only person he trusted: himself. But the anxiety from bad dreams became unquenchable. His body wouldn’t handle it alone. Even if he felt bad every moment he spoke.

The good spirit was grieved. But remained. And Iidie felt like he had thrown off a bad weight.

A moment later, an alien spirit appeared and turned the world upside down.

III. Son of a bitch gave him away. Gave him those big boots. And dared to swear to come for him within a quarter. Liar! He didn’t need his protege. Everyone is a deaf traitor. The ones he hates the most. He spat on such humiliation. Following the heavy boots, his bitterness did not become any milder, he threw away food. The wolf showed no concern, woke the kid up with dawn and they marched until it got dark. Iidie must have fainted at the end of the road, because the next thing he remembered were colorful slippers.