Chapter 3 - Despair

As the blinding flash of violet-colored light gradually faded to give way to the darkness of the night again, the wreckage its destruction left behind was a sorrowful sight to behold.

Although the humble wooden shack wasn't anything extraordinary, there was no need for it. Its sole resident was only artificially kept 'alive', it had no needs or specific desires. He did not care about how pretty the walls were decorated, or what bright and luxurious color the painting was done.

Old man Lord Raven didn't care for making the little hut fancy, yet it still was the most precious treasure he had in his mind.

His greatest glory, his last luster, his reason for this continued torture of an existence rested inside there. Though he was barely conscious and it was questionable if he even understood what was happening around him since his synapses were constant no matter what happened to him; the old man firmly believed and hoped that Kai heard his every word.

How he listened to Lord Raven's every prayer, remembered the old stories he had told him over the years. How he understood his plight and even listened to the thousands of apologies he tried to say over the countless days.

Yet, now just as he finally accepted the sad truth, Fate once again decided to play a cruel, twisted joke on him. A strange, never-before-seen phenomenon came down from the heaven above, struck the poor shabby cottage mercilessly, and destroyed the last remaining hope he still fostered deep inside his heart.

The twisted miracle of the sky above left behind nothing in its destructive wrath but smoldering wreckage. The strange, violet flames that stubbornly withstood the drooping rain, slowly, gradually began to disperse, leaving behind dark ebony colored twisting, curling trails of smoke.

From behind the safety of the window, Lord Raven went deathly pale in an instant. Looking at the carnage only a couple of seconds longer, he turned towards the door, and with unexpected agility, an unknown force driving his tired, weary bones, he shot out from the room. His quickened pace, left light pitter-patters behind as he scurried through the first-floor hallway and hurried down the stairs.

Shoving the maids and even some of the security out of his path, the old man like a reborn beast charged through the house, rushing to the side exit. Behind his wake, his wife, Genna followed with a growing frown creasing her usually smooth skin. The wrinkles of worry, as she was finally in the final phases of her more than 12-year scheming, were about to bear fruit.

She couldn't let such an unknown factor ruin all of her plans. After all the schemes, the ploys, the traps she set and devised, slowly inching forward, making her way into the position she wanted to be in… She can't possibly let everything crumble because of some twisted miracle of the heavens!

With her quick thinking mind, she changed course and hurriedly rushed towards her son's room, and without knocking, charged in. As she threw the door open and barged in, she spotted her little brat, the ten-year-old Robert sitting in front of his computer, so deeply focused on the brightly glowing screen that he most likely even missed everything happening.

She scoffed with annoyance as she saw her stupid son's obliviousness. With a scowl ruining her perfect visage she stepped over with large, but silent strides, taking her place behind him.

Looking at the screen, she couldn't help but frown, the boy was once again playing some stupid violent-looking game, cursing at the red glowing "You Died" screen every so often.

Huffing with sheer annoyance and a wave of rising anger once more, she didn't hesitate and gave a hard slap at the back of her son's stupid little head.

With his short, barely noticeable dark brown head of hair, her motherly 'care' made the violent boy violently hit his keyboard, earning a groan, a curse, and eventually, a pain-filled cry.

Caught off-guard, the stump and chubby creature of a boy reached for the point of assault at the back of his head. After the momentary daze caused by the sudden blunt force trauma, he realized that he must have made his mother mad for some reason.

He shuddered at the thought of earning yet another beating and he instantly shot up from his chair, showcasing uncanny agility despite the several layered lumps of fat widening his frame. He turned to face his mother standing at attention. He did his best to push down his quivering, trembling, frightened state whilst he tried wrecking his mind hoping to remember the reason for this sudden punishment.

Still, no matter how hard he tried, how hard he frowned, he couldn't come up with any reasonable explanation for the sudden session of evening education. In the end, he had to give up, and with a meek voice, the portly little dwarf asked the cold-looking gaze standing in front of him.

"M-mother? W-what i-is the p-problem? D-did I m-make you angry w-with something?"

Trying his best to sound submissive, little Robert hurriedly cast his gaze down, bowing in front of this merciless demoness lest he would be rewarded with even more pain, with more slaps.

Still, deep down, there was a growing seed of something unknown, something unexpected growing. The constant, hard beatings, his suffering, his fate under the care of those slender, beautiful hands… Robert didn't know what it was, but deep down, he started to find some meager solace, that began to numb all this pain, all this torture and instead transformed them into something that gave him the warmth he was oh so fond of, so desperate for as time went on…

"You fat little gremlin!" Genna cursed with a cold, angry tone. She raised her hand in the air, only to strike down in the next moment yet again, carrying way too much force in the slap.

As her palm collided with her son's head, he was helpless against such pressure, such might, and was instantly thrown down face-first onto the floor.

With a loud thump, his head crashed against the wooden tiles of his room's floor, Robert cried out with the numbing, yet the burning sensation of pain yet again. Still, if one listened, he would be shocked to hear that instead of the expected sobbing of a child, there was a strange, disturbing undertone slowly coming to the surface…

It was.. as if the little boy started to find some weird enjoyment in all these beatings…

"You little shit! How can you be so engrossed in your stupid games, that you miss your chance! Ah, why did I have to give birth to such a failure!" The woman scowled with anger, revealing a completely different side of the caring, loving wife…

—

Rushing out from his Mansion's Side Entrance, the old master, Lord Raven could be seen rushing with unexpected agility behind each of his steps. Due to the rise of his adrenaline, he even seemed to suddenly forgo the usage of his walking aid. His cherished walking cane was tightly held in his hand as if it was a baton.

Resembling that of a crazed gold digger of an archaic age of exploration, the old man had a frantic look on his wrinkled, stubby face as he rushed towards the still-smoldering wreckage of where his son was just a couple of minutes ago.

The staff, noticing his worried, borderline crazed expression, and also witnessing the surprising ferocity and strength as he shoved the few unfortunate servants and guards to the side as they unknowingly dared to block his way, have all decided to step aside instead. Who would be stupid enough to block the way of a desperate beast?

Rushing through the courtyard, Lord Raven didn't hesitate to trample the carefully attended flowerbeds or even to wreck through the neatly trimmed bushes, just to shorten the distance even by the tiniest bit. He didn't care, he couldn't possibly register such meaningless matters, the only thought that dominated his mind were the ruins of his son's shack.

Lord Raven's heart was beating in an unhealthy, chaotic manner as he made his way over to the wreckage in barely a minute. As the same, post-apocalyptic scene expanded before his eyes, the old father's figure shuddered with fear and worry.

Not wasting any more time, he stepped into the shambling cataclysmic sight, not bothered by the thin layer of light purplish, violet-colored ash. He rushed to the nearest pile of burnt wooden boards and jumped right into the action.

From the first glance, even as he got near, he could not see a body, which by itself could be a positive piece of news, but in reality, it did not help to ease his growing worry. Lord Raven did not care for his stature as the Master of the Raven Manor, or even as the CEO, owner of one of the most influential multi-billionaire business empires in the entire East Coast of not just the United States… but the entire American double continent as well.

No, forgoing the warnings of his doctors due to his waning vitality, he reached for the nearly burnt piece of wood, and slowly began to lift it. Pushing it ashore, he reached for the next, slowly unwrapping this grotesque mound of the present. He was desperate for a sign, for some signal… a hope that maybe his son somehow, miraculously survived the disaster…

Even though he did not think that there would be any chance of that, he at the very least wanted to hold his son's body in his arms. Even if it would be nothing more than a charred corpse, he wouldn't mind it too much at this point. The meaning of his life, the reason for his living was the faint dream of speaking to him again in the distant future. Just so he could apologize for the umpteenth time, he would be satisfied.

He would be happy, just with that.

It may sound cruel, or downright evil, but in all honesty, he somewhere deep down knew that if his son, Kai would finally leave him for good, he would soon follow them after. He could no longer exist in such a harsh, cruel reality where his loved ones have all but left him to wallow in his self-pity and misery.

Yes, he may have a new wife and a second son in Robert, and it may be downright evil, but Lord Raven couldn't love them the same way he did May and their Kai.

He knew he wasn't being fair. He could see the attention, the care in Genna's eyes whenever she gazed at him. She could feel the warmth in her embraces, the hotness of her enticing breath whenever she leaned in for a kiss… Yet, his heart somehow turned cold, distant no matter how hard he tried forcing himself.

As for Robert, they have never been able to connect. The little chubby boy never really seemed to seek his supposed father's pats or reassuring words. He always seemed to be keener to cause mischief for his mother, or just play with his computer closed off in his room. He didn't resemble the old man, his supposed father at all…

'Argh… Nothing here…' Lord Raven groaned as he finally lifted the last piece of wood and peeked under the first rubble, only to find nothing. He sighed with a miffed look, raising his attention and inspecting the carnage for the first time.

He had to admit that he was slightly confused to see nothing of the large machinery that they had stationed around Kai, each serving a different medical purpose. Nothing from the room seemed to somehow survive the aftermath. Not even the charred, burned molten remains could be seen peeking through the rubble at all.

This was strange, mysterious to say the least.

Still, Lord Raven wasn't ready to throw in the towel, to accept the dreadfulness of the creeping reality. With a growing grunt, he forced himself off from the ground and made his way towards the next sizable pile of debris to resume his excavation. He would not rest until he searched every nook and cranny of the ashen plot of land, and resolved this mystery.

A few minutes later, a group of staff, -mostly robust guards-, arrived at the scene, led by an aged, elderly-looking slim and tall man. He was wearing a traditional-looking butler's attire.

"Lord Raven, please don't strain yourself. Allow the staff to do the heavy lifting." The elderly butler spoke up as they walked over to the old master.

Lord Raven either didn't hear or just decided to ignore the call coming from behind him and kept on lifting a particularly large piece of half-burnt piece of dark wood lumber so that he could see if any clues were lying beneath it.

After being rewarded with nothing but disappointment once again, he grunted inaudibly and pushed himself off from the ground again. Mumbling to himself, -mostly some curses-, he scampered to the next nearest mound yet again, only to repeat the exact same process over and over again.

Noticing their master's desperation, the group of staff shared worried gazes, and without the need for additional words, they made their decision and stepped over to assist the old man.

No words were exchanged between the parties, there was no need to. Soon, they began to work together to search through the ruins, searching for any signs that could point towards the fate of the Young Master.

Time passed as the team worked together, ignoring the steady slow downpour of the nightly rain, growing ignorant of the harsh cold, as they worked through most of the night.

Minutes turned into several hours, soon surpassing midnight when they finally stumbled upon a smaller, yet distinct-looking dark, black-colored ash. Amidst the remains, they found a piece of fabric, a burnt piece of fabric from the hospital gown that the Young Master used to wear.

Holding the small parchment of light blue wool fabric, Lord Raven's face paled. His body trembled under the heart-wrenching pain.

He clenched the piece of cloth, lifted it to his face… and slowly began to silently sob.