The Smiling Death

He saw her standing in front of him.

'Am I going to die now?... sorry, Senior Vixra.' he thought. His heart ached in pain and sadness. His mind was slowly feeling numb.

He wanted to kill this woman... but he was too weak. Even though he had the will to take revenge, he couldn't do a thing.

He closed his eyes, silently waiting for death to come. A smile formed on his lips.

'Hah... Fuck you, Arnold!' All he did was curse.

But death didn't come.

After some movements,

He snapped open his eyes and saw the woman standing a little away from him, still and not moving at all.

What shocked him the most was that the doors of houses and buildings started to open.

People started to come out of their houses, with the same hazy, dazed eyes, no expression, as if hypnotized. They stood still and silently outside, not moving again.

Every single one of them had come out.

Amon continued to look at the scene.

He moved his hands as they trembled, reaching into his ring. He took out two healing potions and uncorked them with shaking fingers.

Gulp! Gulp!

The liquid burned down his throat, but he didn't care. Warmth spread through his body as his wounds began to close, the stinging pain dulling slowly. His breath steadied, though his heart still pounded like a war drum.

He wiped the blood from his lips and slowly pushed himself to his feet. His legs wobbled, but he forced them to move.

'Fuck! I need to get out of here!'

Step by step, he started walking toward the orphanage. Each step echoed faintly in the dead silence of the town. He tried to make no sound, every instinct screaming at him not to draw attention.

The woman… she was still there. Standing in the middle of the square, unmoving, her gaze fixed upward at the night sky.

Then,

Her lips curved into a wide, twisted smile.

Amon froze at the corner of a narrow street, hiding behind a wall. He peeked out carefully.

The entire town had gone madly silent. People stood everywhere on the streets, in alleyways, outside houses, all motionless. Their eyes were still hazy, lifeless.

Then, the ground began to rumble.

A deep red light spread under their feet. Lines of glowing symbols shot across the streets, climbing walls and rooftops until they connected into one massive formation. The magic structure slowly lifted into the air above the whole town.

Amon's eyes widened.

"What now?" he whispered.

The red glow surged, bathing the town in its eerie light. The entire town was now covered by the enormous, blood-red circle.

The dazed people slowly lifted their heads to look at the sky. Their necks twisted unnaturally as if pulled by invisible strings.

And then,

BANG!

Amon flinched. One person's head exploded. Then another. And another.

In the next instant, everyone's heads burst open all at once.

Splatter! Splat!

Blood rained through the air like a storm. The streets turned crimson in seconds. Headless bodies dropped one after another with heavy thuds, piling on top of each other.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Amon stood frozen at the scene, his heart beating faster. Warm droplets splashed across his face and clothes. Some of the blood trickled down his cheek, mixing with his sweat.

His eyes trembled. His breath hitched.

"This… what the hell…" he whispered, his voice cracking.

The strong smell of blood filled him with waves of nausea.

The town that once lived and breathed was now a graveyard of silence and blood. The red glow slowly dimmed, but the smell of death lingered everywhere.

Amon's body was soaked. The sticky warmth of others' blood clung to his skin. He couldn't move, couldn't think.

Only one thought echoed in his head,

'What kind of monster could do this?'

The whole town's streets were filled with blood. Dead bodies lay everywhere on the street, headless.

The only one standing there was a burgundy-haired woman with her evil smile, enjoying the blood while laughing.

Amon gulped down his saliva. At this moment, he wasn't feeling anger, rage, hatred, or the will for revenge. All he wanted to do was run for his life.

He turned back and dashed forward. He didn't look behind. His body was still screaming in pain, not fully healed. Yet he pushed himself to run.

Stomp! Stomp!

His steps were heavy and tired, yet fast.

"Hah... hah..." He was breathing heavily.

Finally, the orphanage came into view. A small wave of relief washed over him.

But then his eyes widened in sudden realization.

"Shit! Kids!"

If all the people in town died so horribly, did that mean the kids at the orphanage also met the same fate?

Fear gripped him.

He reached the orphanage house. He continued to run and jumped over the wooden fence.

As his feet fell on the garden of the house, he stopped. His heart sank.

He continued to stare at the headless bodies on the ground silently. Only the sound of his breathing and the rustling of wind could be heard.

Lily, Samuel, Joy, Sister Kreta, and Sister Lisa... Everyone was dead.

The small bodies of all the kids lay there silently.

Amon walked slowly towards them.

Stomp!

His steps were slow, measured, filled with pain. His dark eyes stared at them. Beads of tears formed at the corners of his eyes.

He knelt beside one of the dead bodies, the body of a young girl wearing a pink frock. If not for the dress, Amon might not have even guessed who this body belonged to.

She was Lily. The memory of her started to flood his mind how she called him big brother and watched him with sparkling, admiring eyes.

Amon's eyes fell on the other headless bodies Joy, Samuel, Oliver, Mason... all of them were dead.

He had met all of them just a few days ago. Not even a whole week, yet their memories and laughter continued to echo in his mind.

For so long, he hadn't cried. Not when he was beaten. Not when he was mocked. After losing his parents, he hadn't cried once.

But now he couldn't control himself.

"…Damn it…" His voice broke. "Why… now?"

He pressed his hand to his face, trying to stop the tears, but they wouldn't obey. They fell hot, heavy, relentless cutting down his cheeks like molten glass.

For the first time in years, Amon Vale cried.