⾕House of The Unwanted Children⾕.⾕Cathedral's Sonata⾕.⾕4⾕

Instructions

⾕.⾕House of The Unwanted Children⾕.⾕ .⾕Cathedral's Sonata⾕. ⾕Chapter 4⾕ .⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕ ⾕⾕. To be exact, what had happened last month had brought over this vibrant change in Cain. And he knew what had happened, even if Lester had acted like he didn't remember what had happened in the Room of Illusions. After all, cain himself had been dragged into the mess by a few older children who were the part of Lester's little group of "popular kids". You could say they were destined to be heroic, and great and what not. After all, those snobbish kids took it upon themselves to "protect" the weak and possible candidates to...you know...una11ve the next week. To be exact, this was a group of people who were extremely strong. Strong, with perhaps the strongest kind of magic within their reach. And to be even more exact, these people survived on their baits. Baits being the weaker, pointless and helpless children in the House of Unwanteds, who had no choice but to depend on the stronger ones. What the poor helpless children did not know, was that they were baits. Baits who would be pushed to the edge of the cliff when the time was right, only to save the person that they had been depending on for their survival. Once again, brutal. But then again, normal. For the children here were abnormal. Unwanteds for a reason, abnormal for a treason. Anyways, what had exactly happened last month? Well, we'd have to rewind back to the 15th day of the last month. When everything was a usual. With him being sick and pale like translucent glass, and barely any sight to help him see and barely and strength to walk. Spending another day under the tree like a dy1ng man on a wish list completion goal. A book in his hands. The very book he had recently forced Leticia to get him after promising to clean the entire house for a week. Not the best choice of duty to do. But weak little Cain would often get help from the twenty five year olds who pitied him for his weak physique and that help would often keep him free for days. Like today. Some foolish kind "Lilith" descendant of age twenty five had decided to take good faith within their hearts for once and had offered to help him. And Cain, putting his sickly facade up again had managed to earn himself a free day. Now if you know what you know, and you knew what I knew, you must have realised that I said "sickly facade". Well why would one say that? Simply because Cain had changed. He was a changed boy, not a changed man, who had come to realise his days were far too limited and his life was strung with a thin thread, which was half eaten by moths, attached to the weaving machine, begging not to loose itself into the air. But back then he had no idea how to survive. So here he was, making most of his time, buying books and reading as many as he could. Diving into the imaginary world where everything was fine, and the unwanteds didn't exist. A way to fool oneself. An imaginary world. Temporary Psychosis. But that's also called raging. Raging fits for no reason. And did he have them? Yes. At night, when everyone else was either tucked asleep or trying to find a monster to k111. But really, those fools who did go to k111 would either be found d23d or alive. Anyways, here he was reading a book on meningitis, busy reading up on all the things that he would need to know. Why? Well, even if he did want to accept his fate, he couldn't forget those horrible memories that yet still plagued his dreams like a vine of fear gripping onto his life, threatening to make him fall to the ground the second he chose to scream. And that left him with a never ending bonfire of wishes. To show these horrid people that they had been wrong, k111ng innocent children. They had been utterly wrong. And to make Lester pay. Make him pay for making him, Cain, have horrid dreams at night about the day and incident he so dearly wished to forget. "Oi...Loopy Cain." Shouted someone. Cain sat up straight, with his back against the tree. Today he couldn't see much, except blurs of colours. And so his ears were on high alert. Alert like never seen before. "What? Who are you?" "Can't see again? Can't your stupid ears figure out who I am?" "He wouldn't, Maxie, he's a fool, after all." Snickers. Those horrid snickers. However, he ignored those snickers sent at his way to mock him. And his condition. What he focused was on the voices. He knew Maxie.Or well, Maxine. Maxine Totlebocher Lilith. A part of the heroic squad that Lester had owned of. How wouldn't he remember that snippy voice with that god awful shrillness within? But the other voice, that also he knew very well.The boy who spoke with sarcasm like it was his second name and first nature. Cruz Palyulin Lilith. That utter disaster of a boy of 15. +