Soft white snow steadily descended from the sky as the cold months began to set. Winter would arrive in a few short weeks, temperatures plummeting to the negatives. Soon the entire town would be silent, streets empty aside from the few cars that would race by. Families would celebrate, wrapping gifts for their children in preparation for the holidays.
Lucien's feet sank inches into the blanket of snow underneath him. "Strange.." he murmured under his breath. Growing up in the lab, he'd never seen snow. Though in the few short minutes he experienced, he'd grown already quite fond of it. In his early childhood, Lucien was told stories describing snow from his caretakers. Interestingly each flake was shaped to be unique from its kin. Though similar, no flake was like another.
Memories continued to rush into his head. However after aging and time passing, they'd grown old; hazy and faint. He vaguely remembered Bonnie bragging about events she experienced when she was young and free. "Snow!" she'd cry out. As the memories quickly dissipated, Lucien's head spun in circles, his vision blurring. He despised himself for forgetting. Day by day the names of the other children were cast away into the depths of his mind, locked into a cage. A cage with the key lost, forever gone. He gritted his teeth, swallowing back his anger and continued to plow forward.
The birth of a new day was met by the cry of the chiming clock. Twelve strikes hit as midnight arrived.
The sound was followed alongside more indistinct memories. The sun had risen high that day, radiating warmth and light in the form of rays as the children scurried in excitement, sliding down the slides, spinning on the Merry Go Round. The boys had gathered at the Monkey Bars, testing their strength against one another.
Lucien was the last to undertake the challenge. So far out of all the children none of them had reached the end. The other boys watched in amazement as Lucien quickly reached the tenth bar. His hands gripped tightly, balancing himself before extending his left arm for the next. His heart raced quickly as he dropped his remaining right arm, before thrusting it forward. Only one more to go, he thought. This raised "Ooos" and "Wows" among the children.
As he nearly reached the last bar the sound of a bell similar to the striking of a chiming clock cracked through the air. Recess had ended. The crowd of children sighed before heading towards the entrance gate. Lucien, however, was still fixated on the last bar. "Just a little more.." he muttered to himself. The memories quickly vanished back into his mind. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.
"Already midnight.." The moon had replaced the sun and darkness surrounded Vine Square. Thankfully, the few working light posts pushed away the midnight blackness so Lucien hadn't had to navigate his way through the dark. His eyes darted around, examining the abandoned run down shops that filled the streets. In its prime, Vine Square had been a hotspot bustling with traveling merchants and traders as well as foreigners and sightseers. However as time passed, its popularity among the wealthy declined. Now it was mostly occupied by poorer folk in search of work.
The clouds steadily began to drift away, the snowfall momentarily coming to a halt..
--!
On sync with Lucien's tenth heartbeat he swerved to the left, eluding two daggers that narrowly whizzed by him.
"Oh.. You're quick!" A light skinned man with a face no older than sixteen stepped out of the black void. A complete stranger. However, he reeked with the noxious smell of blood. 𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧? Lucien assumed so. In the crevices of his left hand's knuckles were four more daggers, each the same design as the others. "You don't look like a Shepherd though.. Well, let's see how you do against three!" He raised his arm before thrusting forward, firing multiple daggers.
At the blink of an eye he was gone. Vanished into thin air. The daggers now pierced several inches into a wall so that the entirety of the pointed edge was hidden, only the handle exposed. However, only two laid there.
"You're too slow.. Wolf." Before the assailant could even turn, one of his very own daggers transfixed through his nape. Quickly a purple-tinted blood spewed out as Lucien pulled the now purple painted dagger out and slashed diagonally across the Wolf's backside, dropping him to his knees, now weak and feeble.
"M-My own.. knife.." Blood coughed out, painting the cement sidewalk violet. "DAMN YOU!" He swiftly rose, spinning on his heel while tightly clutching onto his remaining dagger. Lucien flinched backwards, however, the distance between the two was too tight. The knife charged forward with momentum and ripped into the stomach and through liver.
Without hesitation Lucien's hand slung forward, fingers tightly wrapping around the wrist. With the other hand, he pulled back, turning his hips slightly despite the pain of the blade still impaled inside. With tremendous force a fist flew forward, amplified with momentum. One straight swift punch cleanly connected with the Wolf's unguarded face, sending his head whipping back alongside multiple bones shattering.
They staggered away, vision growing fuzzy. The clatter of his blade dropping to the ground was followed by another fierce punch fired at his gut, knocking the wind clean out of him to the point where he'd felt like he'd never breath again. Blood pounded in his ears, overshadowing Lucien's words. At this point he couldn't speak, his jaw broken into several pieces. 𝘐-𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵!
Lucien was sure to demonstrate the difference in power. Rapid punches assaulted his attacker, each followed by the cracking of another bone or another tooth dropping. Bright purple blood stained his knuckles. Lucien watched as the Wolf pitifully crawled away, using the leftovers of his strength, throwing away his pride for a chance at life. However, this story had been written millions of times in the past. Throughout history, even the bravest and fiercest of warriors cowered as the reaper rang their doorbell. Yet their efforts were in vain. No matter how fast you'd run, no one escaped from death's grasp. And now the reaper's scythe approached Aryo Suchet.
𝘐𝘵.. 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴.. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬..