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Okay, this is an old story of mine that I decided to bring back from the dead and make some extreme modifications to. I didn't like the way it was going, and I was never particularly proud of the first chapter, but the rest of it was just in need of some revisions and a different path. Never did finish it, only a couple of chapters into it before I basically gave up. Hopefully, this time, I can get it right.

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Young Loves Demise

chapter 1

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I feel pain. I held my ears and eyes shut too hard for too long. I'm afraid of what I might see when I expose them to the devastation I know is just beyond the barrier of darkness. Darkness, a waning comfort threatening to give way to a much stronger, more horrific light.

I finally give, the doorways to my soul creaking open slowly and allowing the wave of devastation to invade what was once untouched by the tainted light of this foriegn world. My hands flee from my head, freeing my ears from the confines of doubt and allowing them to bask in the bloodied screams and cries of the body of all and the body of none.

I look up, into those glaring faces. Sad faces. Pitying faces that are helpless in their shock, not moving a finger but to point and gawk in disbelief. Maybe disbelief, for any other obvious emotion would be sorely inappropriate. Lies some were, but who would know?

'Why don't they do anything?'

The sounds of distant sirens add to the music of panic which permeate the unbreathable air.

'Why aren't they helping?'

I look down at the two bodies at my small feet. Two unmoving bodies, whose faces are too familiar for me to forget. Truth was the known, acceptance a distant realm not yet breached.

'Mother?'

Tears sting my eyes, threatening to scar my face; I start to kneel down next to the all too familiar bodies. These scultpures, still warm from the workings of life, have finally come to completion with the last chisel from an artist I can no longer admire. This work of art, of which I've seen none, make me repulsed with the artist.

'FATHER?!'

The tears of pain now trickle down my pale and cold face, yet I don't make a noise. Not a single sob as I curl up next to the marble sculpture I can recognize as a comforting female. Nobody dared to move and shatter the unnerving silence which blanketed the crowd in stifiling realization.

'Help mother.'

I curl tighter around the stone body, still so warm. A familiar thumping of the artisans work no long sounds, proving that his damned work is now complete. I can feel something liquid soaking into my clothes, but I don't care. I simply keep my eyes closed and stay with the slowly dying warmth.

'Help father.'

Everybody but me looked up at the screeching tires and thundering sirens. They were distant sounding, almost non-existent in the torrent of chaos and pain which plagues my senses.

'Help me.'

I felt a tugging under my arms and around my ribs, slowly pulling me away from the only family I have. The only family I had.

'No.'

I tried to reach out for the deceased. Pitiful whines escpaed my muzzle as I clutched desperately for what once was, which is all I knew and never knew I would ever only know, and knowing that all I ever knew would become but what I once only knew made my heart beat quickly. A new feeling, an unknown entity had touched my heart, and I knew at once it was that artist. He was there always, I now know, and I hate him for trying to make art out of a twisted and broken canvas.

'No.'

All I did was watch in horror as the black tarp shrouded the two lonesome bodies, the sound of a zipper strengthening my understanding and resolve.

'NO!'

I struggled against the human restraints, the beast inside striking uselessly against these tamers. Like an ant trying to move a mountain out of sheer will, so pointless was my struggles and cries.

'MOTHER!'

Nobody in the crowd offered to help. The bastards wouldn't lift a finger. Did nobody care?

'FATHER!'

Being pulled farther, and farther.

'MOTHER!'

With what little strength I had, I flailed my body, twisting and contorting it like a worm being held at one end by a laughing fishermans son before he skewers me on a hook and hands me to the much more experienced man, whom will only toss me out to see what he could recieve in return. I will be the worm whom got away. This I knew when I felt one of my knuckles connect to something soft, and I felt freedom only one hand away.

'NO!'

I broke free of the other captivating hands, whom had dissappeared at the beck and call of the owner of the previous two manacles of flesh. Once free I hit the ground hard, feeling too much torture in my heart to notice I had cut my leg. I managed to get up quickly, and I started to run.

'Mother.'

My running wasn't swift, and it was particularly sloppy. My sense of direction hadn't devloped fully, and in my state of mind was completely gone. That's why eventually I find myself with my back against a wall in a small, dead-end alleyway. I'm surrounded, those white coats laughing maniacally at me. Those in the white coats weren't there before. The blue shirts with golden badges were scary, they weren't alive; they seemed as machines programmed to follow only one directive order, and seemed to do so efficiently without the care of the well-being of whom they were turned on.

Without a heart, without a soul, without a thought of their own they were most imperfect for tending to this world. Yet they are the caretakers of this daycare damned by our very ancestors. I ran from them, afraid of those without souls.

'Father.'

Now here I am, facing an evil I did not understand. All I knew was that these men of demon hearts were worse than the blue shirts. I felt it in their eyes, how they gazed upon my shaking form with a lust that could not be satiated with anything less but my screams of pain and terror. Their warm, lovingly fake smiles would not fool me. There was only one thing I could do to get away.

I tried one last desperate attempt, not knowing if I was ready yet.

'I'm.'

The evil behind the spectacles looked at me with confusion as I bent forward, then agape. Pain seared across the entirety of my back, but desperation kept me moving. Move I did, as blood-red feathers drifted majestically around my body.

'Alone.'

Mother taught me to listen to my instincts. Father taught me the basic movements. Now I teach myself how to act as slowly my feet lift off the ground, the air rushing downward in torrents.

'Alone.'

Several men dove at my ascending body.

'Alone.'

I pump my unused muscles as faster and harder than I have ever dared to try.

'I'm scared.'

They barely missed me. One hit the wall with a sickening crunch. A foot now lay suspended and naked.

'I'm scared.'

I flew far away. Just kept on pushing pitifully and flying. Flying, beyond what my screaming muscles could bare, too far for my troubled mind to care. Keep moving, no matter what just keep moving. That is all I lived for, all I knew, the only truth I let rest in my beating heart next to the faces of my mother and father. They would want me to live, so I would never let them down.

'Someone help me'

I can not recall how far I flew, or how long ago I crash landed, curled up and began to cry. Those memories were lost, and this is now. This, the knowledge that there was blood staining my fingers, and a pain coming from my head. Reaching up and touching where the pain was coming from sent my world all fuzzy for a moment, and i now knew the source of the blood. It was me. I hit my head somewhere.

Where? I looked at my surroundings, so foriegn yet so familiar. Black asphalt under my knees, with a yellow light coming from above me. Looking up I find a street lamp high above, being held in place by a concrete arm held by a concrete pillar, which sank down into a concrete sidewalk. This sidewalk had a red curb. It wasn't originally red. Red blood colored the curb haphazardly.

Though my crying at once was abated it started new. I hurt myself, but I didn't remember how.

'I'm scared'

Something happened. A soft, blue hand laid itself upon my shoulder. Looking up, all I could see is a comforting smile, surrounded by black fur.

'Alone.'

"You ok kid?"

A kind, gentle voice flowed from the anthros throat.

'I'm scared.'

"N-no." Through sniffs and sobs I answer.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he sat beside me.

'Everything'

"E-eve-r-r-rything." He wrapped an arm around me and held me close. I love the feeling and comfort of his small embrace. The warmth invited me, and I buried my face into the soft fur. It was then I noticed that my blood wings were no longer on my back, and I thanked everything under the sun and throughout the stars that this was so.

"Tell me about it."

I felt a soft hand caressing my head, carefully avoiding that malice I had discovered earlier. He knew, and he accepted, and tended. I calmed down a little before I sat up and away from his grasp.

'My mother and father were killed.'

"M-my mother and f-father were k-k-killed."

That last word tasted like acid on my tongue. Fresh tears started to glaze my red eyes. Even as I say this, it was fear of being in pain and the joy of being found by a benign spirit which coaxed more seawater. Even as I say this, the reality of what it meant was so foriegn, so unreal.

'The men in white coats are after me.'

"S-some hu-m-mans started to chase me.'

'pain'

"And said they were going h-hurt me."

I'm starting to regain some control of myself, although for how long, I don't know. From everything I told him, I watched as his smile, turned into a frown, and now his face is beginning to show utter shock.

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

'Please, let me stay with you'

"Please, let me stay with you!" I clung to his chest again, frantically, and started to sob.

He was hesitant for a bit, but eventually relaxed, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

"Ok, little guy. For as long as you need. Nobody will hurt you, okay? Not with me around, hell no." he rubbed my back gently, spoke softly. "I'll need the extra hand anyway, to help with my new place. Sorry, I won't have a bed for you, but I have a spare hammock you can use in the corner of my room."

'I'm not alone!'

"Thank you!"

I hugged him tighter as I said it. Hope. Someone there for me.

"But first things first."

I looked up at him with quizzical eyes.

"We'll need to know each others names, if we are going to know each other".

He smiled with such arrogance it was hard not to admire him. I laughed a little bit at his smile and whipped the tears from my eyes.

"I'm Xebas, and you are?"

"Hmm. I'm Kenneth."

I saw him looking at my two tails. I moved them behind me a little bit, kind of embarrassed. He chuckled

"Well, I'll call you Kenny. Well, nice to meet you, I think I'm gonna like the company."

"Thank you so much, Xebas," as I leaned into him again. I can't get enough of his warmth. He picks up my small form and carries me off. I wrap my two tails around me.

"No problem, little bud," the last words I heard before I was overtaken by the need for sleep.

I now know we are going to be great friends. Best friends

'Forever.'

My name is Kenneth Jacobson. This is the earliest memory of my life I have. This is how my first life began.