The Legend

"Have you heard a legend about a Boy with no face?

I thought not. It's an old tale, from World War II.

It is said, that once while bombarding England, one bomb fell too close to one small boy, lost and alone.

When the team of soldiers found him, he was still alive, yet his face was damaged really bad. It was very serious, so they sent him to the best hospital in London.

Although, the car he was being transported in, disappeared and couldn't be found for months.

They found it, at last, only to find all passengers dead, with scratched out eyes, faces drowning in blood.

But the body of a boy was missing.

It was never found to this day. Some say that the ghost of the Boy with no face wanders England, searching for his face he once lost. And he could be literally anywhere."

"Grandpa, stop it, you are shining with that flashlight in my eyes," a little child giggled and his grandfather smiled. "That is for a cooler effect," the grandfather said proudly.

"Dad? Come on, stop telling him that stories before bedtime, he won't be able to fall asleep," little boy's mother walked into the room and tucked her son into the bed. "Come on, he likes it," the grandfather said and stood up from his grandchild's bed."Yes, I do," the boy said happily.

His mother chuckled and pecked her son's forehead. "I know, but it's time to sleep Cedric," his mother said and gently pulled sheets over her child.

"Please, can grandpa tell me last story?" little boy bounced in his bed. "Alright, but the last one," his mother smiled and left the room. Grandfather sigh and turned off his flashlight.

"Come on grandpa, tell me more about that boy with no face," Cedric got comfortable in his bed and watched his grandfather. "I think it was enough for this night, kid," the grandfather said and walked to the small window.

He looked outside. It was raining really heavily. The grandfather smiled.

"After all, it's rude to talk about someone who is listening."

Cycle 142 start