[A few days later]
A young boy sat by the window in his room gazing at the scenery beneath him with a photo of a smiley couple in his hands. He looked lonely as his small dark eyes dimmed. Just then he saw a black van enter the vicinity of his house.
A smile flashed on his face as he thought, 'It must be mum and dad. That's the car they usually come in.'
Tossing the photo aside, he rushed out of his room and headed downstairs. Reaching the lounge downstairs, he was welcomed by a taut silence. The home butler sadly gazed at the young boy without a word.
He thought they acted strange yet asked, "Grandpa Butler, are mum and dad back?"
The butler didn't say anything and took him to a hall flocked with people and where two coffins were placed with a picture of the bereaved before them. Seeing this the little boy quickly rushed forward in disbelief.
The boy gazed at the coffins with utter disbelief. 'It can't be mum and dad,' he tried to convince his brain. But the photo of the couple as evidence burnt all the possible optimistic thoughts in his mind.
The truth was his parents had died and now he was all alone. He had no idea how but in the next few minutes he sat down sobbing, "Dad! Mum! Is it true you left?"
"Mum, you're awake right? It's going to be ok as soon as I close my eyes right?" he choked on his sobs, not knowing what to do.
The sobs soon grew to wails as the boy shook the pale corpse of his father, "Dad! Wake up. You promised to take me to great-grandpa's. Mum
The few people in the lounge pitifully glanced at the boy who endlessly shook his parents' lifeless bodies with disbelief. It was truly a tragedy. The stern butler whom he called Grandpa Butler tried to pull him away from the two coffins which were yet to be closed.
However, he had no idea where the little boy got his powers from but he somehow managed to shrug him off after being pulled away from a certain distance.
He hastily crawled towards the coffins and swiftly opened them not caring about what the rest said. He didn't mind his ugly, tear-stained face nor did he mind his dishevelled appearance. He only cared to see his two parents awake.
"Mum if you wake up I promise I won't mind if you scold me again. Dad, I'll help with your small errands. I promise. Please don't leave me...," he lamented like there was no tomorrow. His face paled while his eyes turned red and swollen from all the crying.
He sat closer to the two coffins, his expression blank as he couldn't find it in his heart to believe the situation at hand. Suddenly, the silent audience was interrupted when they heard a cold voice called, "Ares Maltimore, what are you trying to display by looking all haggard?"
The crowd craned their necks, trying to see who had interrupted their silence, only to be welcomed by the gigantic majestic figure of General Dafour Maltimore. He stood there like an emperor gazing at his subjects. He strode towards the area where the young Ares leaned on the two coffins.
Truthfully speaking, it was Ares's first time seeing his great grandfather in real life though he had seen him in the family portraits that hang on the sitting room wall.
Now seeing him up close, he surely looked intimidating and cold. A chill crept up Ares's spine as he glanced at his great grandfather's dark, cold and icy eyes. His dark eyes, a pool of calmness and coldness, bored into his as if they could see through his soul.
He stretched his hand and roughly grabbed Ares's arm, forcing him to stand up. He signalled two men dressed in black satanic attires. They swiftly heeded his command and took away the coffins. Ares watched helplessly as the last remaining image of his parents slowly faded with the distance.
He struggled, screaming endlessly but his pleas landed on deaf ears. Eventually, their silhouettes left everyone's sight. The friends and close business partners of the Maltimores extended their condolences to them for their loss.
As the saying goes, time flies and it was finally dusk. The setting sun kept on sinking further and further while darkness covered the skies like a curtain.
The usually bubbly vibe in the house was now as dull as the atmosphere was sombre.
Ares sat on the floor in his room, looking at the shadows being formed by the figures that he once loved. Figurines he made with his dad, a painting of his mom and dad left undone.
He felt desolate and alone. In the dark, he closed his eyes and ducked his head, hugging it between his knees, a habit he'd do when he wasn't in a good mood and his parents would take turns in coaxing him. Alas! This time was different. No one would coax him nor would he hear a soft knock or the soft voice of his mother.
After what seemed like an eternity, his closed-door burst open and in emerged the gigantic figure which never failed to frighten him. His expression was stoic like he had never smiled.
However, the pain in his heart, body and soul didn't allow him to feel intimidated. He let it engulf him. He didn't lift his head from his knees and remained in his sorry position.
He heard footsteps edge closer towards him. The footsteps finally were shushed by the soft Persian carpet sprawled near his bed where he had sat. The figure crouched near him and stared at him. A spark of pain flashed in his eyes, however, it was barely visible. His cold expression camouflaged it very well.
"Ares! Look at me," commanded the man, his voice vibrating through the entire room.
Ares disobeyed and didn't look at him. Rather, he kept his head down. Suddenly, Ares felt his hair clutched firmly, however, not too tight to cause him pain. His face was forced to stare into the man's face. His face was still pale with a lack of the usual rosy coating he had.
"Ares! You shouldn't forget that you're a Maltimore. Do you think that your parents would want to see you like this? Looking all sorry and pathetic? You disappoint, boy. Where's the arrogant and proud Ares? Didn't you always claim to be strong?" scolded Old Dafour harshly.
He knew what he did to his great-grandson was cruel but he can't bear to leave him in such a pathetic state. Deep down he hurt as well. Though it wasn't his first time seeing him, he had to help him come out from his small shell and face reality. He recalled that the last time he saw him, he was a toddler.
However, now he was a few years away from teenagehood. Ares could only cry harder from both his grandfather's harsh words and the pain of having lost his only parents.
However his great grandfather's words startled him more, "You better cry more because this will be your last time."
His statement seemed more like a threat than a suggestion. After that, Dafour lifted his full figure and exited the room, leaving the dumbfounded Ares. Only until the door slammed softly did he return to reality, trapped between whether to continue to cry or not.
Ares found himself laughing not knowing what was funny either. Eventually, a couple of moments later, he drifted into slumber land.
The next morning, Ares has woken up by a gigantic figure hovering above him. He sat straight from his bed not remembering how he reached there.
His deja vu was interrupted by the heavy commanding voice of his Old Dafour, "You have ten minutes to prepare yourself. We're leaving."
Ares glanced at his grandfather confusedly and asked hoarsely, "Where are we going?"
Old Dafour halted in his movements and said, "To your new home. Now hurry up. You've got less than ten minutes."
Ares muttered those words again, "A new home..."