Bab 1: Humble Beginnings
"You deserve this, you piece of garbage," the little boy said, as he punched viciously at another little boy. From afar, they might look like two normal 5 year olds playing in a park, but the boy on the ground had a bloody nose, split lip and seemed about to be hurt even worse. His expression was too calm though. An adult would have gotten chills seeing his face in the midst of a fight. Unfortunately the 5 year old on top didn't have the same instincts.
The boy on top, a mop haired boy, a little overweight and sweaty, punched the other boy in the belly. He curled inwards, to protect himself, but his expression remained calm.
"You can't kick my dog. Who do you think you are?" Tears were leaking from the chubby kid's eyes.
"Your dog bit me. I was going to kill him, but you got in the way. I don't know why, the dog catcher is going to kill him after I call to complain," the boy said, blood covering his teeth. His tone was matter of fact, as if this whole situation was a little puzzling, but not strange.
"He only bit you because you're weird!" The chubby kid was crying harder now.
"He is still going to die. If you want, we can do it together. Then at least you can say goodbye properly."
The dog, a puppy really, was not far away. His leash was looped around a play structure, and he was huddled on the ground. His golden fur shone in the sun, but he looked completely cowed by his encounter with the bloody faced boy. He whined quietly.
"You want me to kill my dog with you!? Are you sick in the head!" The chubby boy was yelling, but the park was empty now, so no one paid attention to the escalating encounter. "You're the one who should die," he said, and raised his fist high.
"I see," the bloodied boy said.
As quick as a snake, his hand whipped around towards the chubby kid's head. A wet crunch was made as the fist sized rock slammed into the soft temple. Blood started to leak out, even as the kid tumbled forward onto the boy.
"Ugh. You're so heavy, get off," he said, but the large body was just dead weight on him. He struggled and shifted until he squirmed out from underneath.
Tom was always careful to follow the rules, his mother had made it plainly clear that disobedience would not be tolerated. He thought it would be ok in this case, the fat kid had threatened his life. The large boy wasn't moving.
'Is he dead?' Tom thought. The idea didn't really bother him, but he decided he had better make sure. The puppy was whining loudly in the background, but the park was still empty. Tom tried to spend as much time away from his mother as possible, and often wandered around the neighbourhood and the forest. Most kids his age were in school at this hour, unless they were homeschooled, like he was.
He rolled the boy over and could see the dent he'd made in the side of his head. It was bleeding steadily. He wondered if he could see the bone if he rinsed the blood away.
Tom bent down, putting his ear close to the boy's mouth. He could hear steady but quiet breaths. Alive then.
Tom stared at the fat kid for a little while. He was battered, sure, but would be fine probably. Would Tom be okay though? The kid had threatened to kill him. His dog was a biter too.
'Will he tell on me for hitting him? Will I get in trouble?' He shuddered delicately, imagining how his mother might unleash her punishments on him. She was so careful not to leave lingering marks, at least not where they could be seen.
He squatted down beside the boy and ran his hand over his face, gently. The boy didn't stir.
He used one hand to tightly squeeze the nostrils of the boy's nose, and forcefully held his other hand over the open mouth. At first he couldn't feel any change, and the body didn't move, but after a short while he started to feel a desperate suction against his hand. The unconscious boy was desperately trying to gulp in breath. Tom increased the pressure, and felt like, in a way the fat kid was helping as his sucking mouth pulled his hand tighter.
The body started to shake and move, but only a little, and Tom held fast. When the body stopped moving, and the suction dropped away from his hand, he still held on, and counted to 100. Just to make sure.
He looked around, but he was alone now. 'Mother won't find out anything now,' Tom thought. Keeping his mother happy was the most important thing to Tom, and he would do anything to avoid her punishments. Though he was young, he recognized that she was unusually creative and cruel.
Then he picked up the fallen rock and walked towards the puppy.
"I didn't forget about you, little guy," Tom said.
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The sky was a swirl of greys and dirty white, rain pelting down hard enough that everyone had to look down at the coffin. Not that there were a lot of people there, Vera was not a popular woman.
A river of water was sliding off the coffin, held over the grave by the casket lowering device and covered by electric green fake turf. The colour was jarring amongst the muted brown of the exposed soil and the water crushed floral arrangements placed haphazardly nearby. Only a few arrangements, probably donated by the parish.
"Our sister Vera was a righteous woman, and a pillar of decency in our community. She tirelessly donated her time to the church, and to help lost souls in search of salvation." The priest was a strong looking man, dark hair flecked with grey, with penetrating eyes. He stood without an umbrella, the rain pouring over the sharp planes of his severe face.
"Vera had a hard nature, but it came from a place of deep love. She believed in the eternal glory of our lord, and didn't shy away from giving and receiving penance, to the benefit of everyone's soul." The Priest paused and looked at Tom. "I'd like to invite her son, Tom, to share a few words as we celebrate her joyful transition to the afterlife," he said, gesturing to Tom who stood at the foot of the casket amongst the oldest members of St. Mary's congregation.
Tom looked around, seeing the few people who came out to send his mother's corpse off, and held back a smile. It was always the oldest, wickedest people who fled to religion in their twilight years. He had witnessed many of this congregation be violent, racist, petty and uncharitable over the years. Age had softened them into this pack of wrinkled children, who spoke of love and the immortality of the spirit. 'People are sickening,' he thought, not for the first time.
"Thank you, Father Black," Tom said. He also had not brought an umbrella, but thought it appropriate to wear a hat. The wool fedora he wore did an admirable job of keeping the driving rain out of his face. It was a dark charcoal that contrasted slightly with his midnight blue suit, in a good way, and the ribbon was a deep black. The hat was his father's, allegedly, and he thought it fitting that he wore it to his mother's funeral.
"My mother was a woman who believed so devoutly that she sacrificed everything in this life for riches in the Kingdom Beyond. I hope you're happy now Mother." Then Tom dropped a rose on the casket, and bowed his head. He hoped that the rain, and the brim of his hat helped hide the flicker of a smile that kept threatening to break out over his face.
"Let us pray," Father Black said. Everyone bowed their heads as the Priest prayed the casket down into the earth.
They all went to the Parish Hall for soggy tuna sandwiches, pasta salad and weak coffee. The shabbiness of the whole affair struck Tom as appropriate. 'She lived a shabby, hateful life. It would be weird for her to go down with sunshine and riches,' he thought. He had to school himself not to smile as he shared pleasantries with the people who stayed for the free food. Usually smiling wasn't something he ever thought of, but today it was taking up a lot of his mental energy.
There was an electric ball of power roiling in his stomach. He knew it was the pure anticipation of freedom, almost in his grasp. 'Is this what happiness feels like?' he wondered, and had to fight off another smile.
People didn't linger long. The rain had let up a little, and the old parishioners used the opportunity to leave. Tom stayed, helping the church volunteers clean up. He was a conscientious young man, just as his mother had raised him to be.
He turned 17 a week ago, and was already 6 ft tall. He loomed over everyone in this small, old township, except for Father Black. Crow's Rest was really just a collection of a few main streets surrounded by ever widening spaces between homes, and then surrounded again by farms and fields. Some would call it idyllic. Tom just thought of it as the first step.
"Tom. Might I have a word?" Father Black asked. Tom had no idea Father Black was behind him, the man moved like a shadow.
Without turning, Tom said, "Of course Father, I'm at your service."
"Come with me. You've helped enough, and the Parish Committee is almost finished here."
Tom followed as Father Black led him out of the hall into the rain again. They crossed the crushed grey stone of the parking lot towards the rectory, just beside the Church. Tom had been inside many times, as his mother devoted all of her time to the Church community. This was the first time he'd entered the Priest's home without her though, and Father Black had only been the parish priest for the last 2 years.
They sat in the Father's office, a snug and warm room. A welcome atmosphere after the chill of the rain.
Father Black looked at Tom over steepled fingers, and leaned forward on his desk. "Tom… I'm sure this is all hard for you. Your mother's death was sudden after all. Very sudden," he leaned forward even more. "The coroner said it was an unbelievable misfortune that she banged her head like that falling down such a short flight of stairs…"
"You're right, Father. My mother always lived her life as if she could be called to the Kingdom of heaven at any time. She didn't know the meaning of the word regret. Perhaps God decided to reward her early?" Tom's face was calm, almost questioning. He looked like a young man who had decided not to dwell on the unfairness of fate and just move forward.
'Still,' thought Father Brown, 'the Coroner said she could have been hit with a hardwood plank to achieve a similar result. He didn't rule it murder, but he could have.'
"She was nothing, if not scrupulous in her devotion to God," the Father agreed. He leaned back into his chair, the intensity of his features softening. "I also understand you're leaving Crow's Rest. Isn't this a lot of change for you all at once?"
"Yes, next week. I've secured early entrance into the University in Happenstance. It was always my plan to go next year, but now there is no reason to stay." He paused, and wiped at his eyes, though they were dry. "Too many memories here. I think it will be easier to let go if I have a fresh start, you know?"
"Happenstance… Happenstance," the Father said, rubbing his chin. Then he raised his head and looked with wide eyes at Tom. "Wait, the University in Happenstance, do you mean…?"
"Yes, I'll be attending the Securitas et Intelligentia, National Universitas," Tom said, finally breaking into a wide smile.
"You're going to attend the National Police, Military and Espionage University? You're attending SIN University?"
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone