Edited On: 4/6/2013

Lull me to Comfort

Chapter 1

"Help! Get us out of here please!"

This town wasn't a stranger to screams. It filled the air as wholly as oxygen and toxic fumes; every corner of the nameless city speckled with characters with their own stories, all driven to desperation to turn to villainy. It was a common sound, and it woke the people better than an alarm ever could. Here, it was better to turn tail and hope the owner of those screams reached someone who was braver. A savior.

Someone heard those screams.

But it didn't exactly matter if they were the one causing it in the first place.

Eradicus laughed, a chilling sound that reverberated throughout the small prison. My face hasn't moved from the glare it's been set it since he came in here to 'quiet' us. Which was pretty much a metaphor for "beat you even further until you lose use of your vocal cords".

"So, I finally succeeded in the main goal every villain here's been dreaming of. I have you trapped here, your Woo Foo powers gone, your whole body bruised and at my mercy. What more could a villain ask for?" Eradicus chuckled, his emerald eyes filled with a sick satisfaction, "Oh yes of course- maybe the power over the world! To rule it and its pathetic population! And with the destruction of Woo Foo oh-so-close to my reach, that will be an easy task."

"How could you, you monster? This is really low, even for you!" Yi-my daughter screamed, struggling against the bonds that confined her. But the battle had taken a lot out of her. She was weak –drained-, wounded, and bound.

Eradicus shook his head, "Why, you should know by now that I would be willing to do anything just to destroy you!" he retorted mockingly. She bit her lip and quieted down, knowing her limits.

Lips set in a smug grin, Eradicus stepped away and headed for the titanium bars that trapped us in the dark and dingy dungeon. Nothing in here was enchanted with magic, and I knew Eradicus knew that it wouldn't have mattered either way because we're all too weak to break through these chains, even if he did infuse them with magic.

He was mocking us; teasingly dangling the prospect of easy escape through the bars. I growled and he left, his ear-piercing laughter trailing behind him.

Turning to my side, I acknowledged my children's well-being, my long-dormant fatherly instincts kicking in. Yin was huddled near her brother, her eyes glazed as she laid down on the damp floor.

Strangely, my son had kept quiet during the whole ordeal, choosing instead to crawl to a corner and hug his knees as his eyes kept watch over his sister's limp form.

I cringed; it hurt me so much to see them like this. They were too young to be put through this kind of torture. I

Limping to my children, I sat next to them, flinching at the pain I felt by doing such simple actions. How could I have let myself turn out like this?

Hugging the two limp forms that were Yin and Yang. I snuggled them in my arms, careful not to hit any of their wounds.

Lifting up their heads, Yin and Yang looked at me, their face emotionless but their eyes filled with tears. It reminded me of a small child who got hurt by someone and would come crying for his parents. They closed their eyes and whimpered as they snuggled even closer to me.

I supported their heads with my arms as I backed into a corner and leaned onto the cold, stone wall. I cradled them like I never had the chance to before, my mouth slowly forming words I remembered being sung to me before; back when I was the frightened child, and not this failure of a father.

Dreams surround our blue-colored lives

Softly, they lie dormant in the deep sea, where there is no wind and no stars

Lost, inside pure darkness,

If you don't cry and dream, you can go home one day

That was it, a lullaby. I didn't attempt to lessen their fears by saying lies; that everything would be fine. Because I knew, we knew, that this was it. Life isn't always a fairytale, and it doesn't always have a happy ending. And after all those easy days of adventure and laughter, we finally knew real suffering and horror. As a family, we experienced real pain.

This town isn't a stranger to screams. It knows the process familiarly; goes through it without much complaint. It knows the cheers that sometimes follow these screams- the whoops of joy and victory and bliss. It also knows- intimately- the silence that is dreaded, mourned and sometimes welcomed.

Tonight, it's introduced to a new sound: voices- one deep, worn and tired, one soft and feminine, one hesitant- entwined in a lilting lullaby that neither takes nor promises hope, but grounds reality.

The night shutters.