Playing Death |ONC 2021 Longlister

Chapter 11

"James! Wait for meeeee!" a young boy with pitch black hair screamed, laughter spilling from his mouth.

"You're way too slow!" the boy with the honey blond hair screamed back, panting, running away. A breeze ruffled their hair as they chased each other around, the black hair finally meeting the honey hair, the moon and the stars bursting forth with honey and gold; too ingrained with innocence to know of the selfish world.

"Wanna have snacks?!" the boy screamed again.

"What is it?" the honey hair asked.

"Samosas with sauce and chili pani puris!" the moon screamed. They walked hand in hand towards a place that was home. When things were normal and the world didn't seem so cunning against playing games.

It faded to another time when they were both teens, one of them browsing books in a library as the other chatted. The midnight skies perusing words that couldn't yet be mustered and the honey boy who couldn't stop honey and sunshine spilling from his mouth. Somewhere a star cracked open in the crevices of the midnight boy and the honey boy shut his mouth as the midnight boy told him of worlds so unlike anything the other had ever heard of.

Librarians whispering harshly to shutup because who doesn't shutup in a library meant to shutupandread?

Midnight boy telling honey of poetry that he wished he could die with words.

Honey boy telling him if he died with words he would be a novel for midnight skies.

Conversations and silences that ran deeper than diluted blood bonds between familial relations.

So much poured between them that time stood still to pause and listen.

They laid side by side on the rooftop as midnight watched the stars and honey surprisingly pointed out every constellation he could make out. Orion, Big dipper, so much more. The North Star. Midnight chuckling as he listened for the first time until honey asked question after question.

"Do you think we are made so we could be so small to adore something so large like...stars?"

"Perhaps that is why we may know how small we are to adore the better things in life."

"Van, do you think there is something...divine?" the honey boy asked, frowning imperceptibly.

"God?" the midnight rumbled with laughter. "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe god plays dice sometimes. But-" he paused looking at honey. "When I think of how fortunate we are, continents apart but so close right now..."

"I call god when I'm suffering, but now that you mention it," he smiled. "I like to quite think god must be there perhaps."

Honey boy who stopped talking to midnight one day. Midnight who never asked why. Midnight who never got full moons again and honey that never spilled sunshine the same.

It was a lost war before it began.

Honey singing. Midnight watching with mixed feelings. Honey making it big. Honey smiling at his fans. Honey signing autographs, stickers, t shirts, books, and even skin. Honey Gold being in the limelight.Midnight watching, watching, watching. Watching to pounce or watching over him?

Midnight who watched over honey so cautiously, calculated, judging as they parted like two rivers who never had time to say goodbye.

A hallway formulated on the screen, hazy, wild and smoked as midnight stood there, lost. It started dissolving fading into mist.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Layla peeked from above her massive screen and I watched the boy wake up whispering coarsely, his voice ragged.

"So you two were close!" Layla blurted before I had the chance to respond.

Vance looked shocked, blinking back rage, shock and anxiously pulled at his shirt until the frays were a bunch in his hands.

"Well, we didn't have to do anything to know that," I shrugged.

"So you actually did something?" his voice was raised now as he stood up, bringing his face inches from mine. "Do you realize something known as privacy?"

"Well we are way too entangled in your thing to come out," Layla hissed back, stepping in front of me.

"Not you," he looked at her menacingly. "You are not entangled in this so get out."

I sighed heavily, grabbing the boy's arm as Layla's horns emerged and her skin turned fiery red, burning. "Don't mess with her, boy unless you want hellfire upon yourself. And, we only saw your dreams."

I pondered on whether to tell him the whole truth but I decided he would not see reason at the moment considering his rage was building even more.

He pulled at his hair, opening his mouth to scream but none coming out as he knew the perils of waking everyone up. He covered his ears, got to his knees and started visibly shaking, as I looked on helplessly, alarmed. Layla's expression matched mine but she was rooted to the spot. I knelt down, touching him softly, gripping his arm. "Look, I'm sorry we did that. But we need to know what we are dealing with to crush your...enemy."

He looked at me pain stricken as I pleaded mutely to Layla for help. We were not the best ones certainly for this situation. I raked my head for ideas until I settled on one.

"Since you are in pain, let us do something we would have to do anyways," I looked away, then met his brown eyes with mine. "Do you want to learn how to pluck souls?"

***

Weee what do you think Vance will do? Will he yield to Death? Vote and comment your thoughts!