Whispers

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Ch 3 (scene 1)

Sealed in Blood

A deafening thunderous flash ripped through the sky, briefly lighting the heavens. The bright remnants quickly dissipated back to the night’s gloom. Increased winds rattled the windows; the storm had intensified. Pa attempted to seclude the anguish to himself, it was poorly disguised as he looked beyond the window, gloss-eyed. His breathing had deepened, possibly what he was about to say carried a difficult weight. The wide eyed boy could not resist the temptation; he continuously rubbed sweaty palms on his knees, it was something that he did when he got really anxious. It appeared that most of Pa’s attention was fixed toward the flashes of wet fury outside. Pa took a deep breath, focus readjusted to the present, yet his eyes remained somewhere else.

“Henry, my boy, like us, you do not hunger. This parallel power you bear, it took upon a unique course, I hope that it remains rightfully so. To live like us.” He paused, holding back emotions, and it wasn’t like him to show any. Pa’s eyes roamed back and forth from the fireplace to window. “Henry, to live like this”—his left hand clutched a tight fist, blood ascended up from the fingertips to the wrist—“life loses its delicate worth, the only pure possession I have learned to miss.” The continuous sounds of burning wood and heavy rain drained out the awkward. “Within you is a power passed down from your father. I’ve sensed it since your birth—”

Out of character, Henry cut grandpa off. “Pa, I’m not sure I understand. What power?”

The rest of the words were deemed unworthy, grandpas eyes only broadened upon the utter of power.

The elder glanced at Henry, so silent and so still—as though time had stopped and awaited for a response. Very slightly, Pa dipped his chin, stamping the final spoken words’ validation, then, he pressed the period with a smile. Yet, the feeble smile was so minute that if the slightest wrinkles on his face were unfamiliar, it would have still remained a straight face to anyone else. 

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