The Undertaker

“Child… Why do you insist on hiding such beautiful eyes?”

The angel looked at him sadly with such pitiful eyes.

“Do you want to live again?” He asked.

The child, torn and broken, looked up at the angel with his lifeless eyes. He nodded.

—-

“That kid is cursed don’t go near him.”

“Gods look at his eyes. ”

“Just like a monster.”

“Freak. ”

Endless whispers and hushing surrounded the child as he hurried through the market place, hugging himself tightly in his torn up cloak.
Winter was harsh that year, not many dared to leave their house to face the heavy snow that pelted down on the rooftops of the little village known as Terranium.

The boy was sent on an errand by his foster father to gather wood in the forest in this merciless weather. Yet, by the time he had finished his errand, freezing cold and yet panting heavily with the wood strapped to his back, he returned to an empty house.

His foster parents had abandoned him… Again.

And again, he was sent back to that orphanage, which was not much different from a prison, actually. That winter, the children could only have 2 meals a day and 1 battered up cloak for warmth. No one was to leave without permission, of course.

The boy huddled up in his little corner of the thin mattress, blowing warm air into his trembling hands. His dishevelled emerald hair completely covered his eyes, to avoid being criticised or bullied by the older kids and the citizens of Terranium.
He had strange eyes, indeed. One blue, one red. His pupils had rings in them, forming a unique pattern in his eyes, something that resembled a target board for arrows.

This special trait of his was the main factor for his lack of adopters and also his social status in the orphanage.
He never understood why these humans so heavily discriminated against others just because he was different. Just because his eyes resembled those to a demon’s, he would be referred to as a ‘freak’ or ‘monster’, and people would back away from him as quickly as possible, as if he had some contagious disease that could cause an epidemic throughout the world and wipe out humanity with his very 2 eyes.

At any time, he decided death would be the best solution to this torture. He envied the dead people out there in the graveyards. Every time he had the chance to escape his ‘imprisonment’ in the orphanage, he would sneak out to the graveyard, sit by the field and gaze over each and every one of them, thinking about what kinds of life the dead used to live, how they died, so on.
It fascinated him such.
He was constantly monitored 24/7 in the orphanage. Social workers patrolled the area like prison guards. Why do they have to trap children in this building rather than give them their freedom? It was beginning to turn into a mental asylum and he was beginning to feel the effects already.

One fine day, the child could take it no longer.

He sprinted out of his room, ignoring the social workers and headed towards the nearest window. He stopped just at the edge, panting wildly. This was probably the most amount of excitement he had ever had in his life.
He enjoyed those 5 minutes he spent running from the guards.

He took a deep breath, and hopped right out of the window.

—-

“Good evening. My name is Deniere. ”

“Who are you?” The child asked, slightly puzzled. “I thought I-”

“Yes, you died. ”

The child looked up to face a tall man, wearing a golden crown with wings sprouting at each end of it. He had a halo floating above his head, and a pair of magnificent white wings sprouting from his back.

“Are you an angel?” The child asked, eyes full of wonder.

Deniere chuckled. “Yes, my dear boy. Welcome to heaven. ” he paused for a while, and frowned a little. “I see you don’t have a name. ”

“I do. ” the child replied defiantly. “Number 4016. That’s my name. ”

“It is a label, not a name. ” The angel replied sadly. “Do you not wish to have a real name?”

For once, the child looked really baffled. “I don’t understand. What’s a real name? ”

“Well, for starters, a real name does not have a number in it. ”

“Oh. ”

“Do you want one?”

“Um…” The child shrugged. “I’m dead anyway, what’s the point? Can I go to heaven now?”

Deniere sighed. He held up his hand a staff appeared. He pointed the staff upwards and a projection of a lifeless boy lying in the snow, which was stained bright red. “This is you. ” he said as-a-matter-of-factly.

The child giggled. “At least I died properly. Thank god I didn’t survive. ”

The projection disintegrated and the angel turned back to the boy, frowning even more. “You should thank The Lord for giving you life, not taking it away. ”

The child shrugged again. “I don’t want to go back there again. ”

“Your eyes… Why do you cover them? They are beautiful. ”

For a moment, the child froze and stared straight at Deniere. “Um…” He choked, at a loss for words.

The angel knelt down and used his finger to wipe off a tear from his cheek.

“I will be committing a terrible sin for this deed, but I sincerely feel horribly sorry for you, my boy. ” Deniere gave a lifeless chuckle. “I guess I can’t hold it back anymore. ”

The child, at this moment, was struggling to wipe off the endless tears that were streaming down his cheeks. Apparently he had never ever been praised in his life before. Especially for his eyes.

“I will name you Sinclaire, and I will grant you a second chance in life. ”

The boy was beginning to get a hold of his emotions, and croaked “w-what?”

“Remember me. ” Deniere the angel smiled, as his body began to glow slowly.

Sinclaire squinted his eyes and tried to reach out to the angel- “wait-” before the entire world became pitch black and Sinclaire blacked out.

Sinclaire woke up with a start, gasping for air. He began to sweat. A white sheet covered the rest of his body, which was resting on a bed, alone in an empty room.

He slowly crept out, and walked past other rooms whose doors were locked shut.

Sinclaire then made a dash for the exit and he emerged out of the building, with the sun shining brightly in the sky and the birds chirping ever so merrily in the distance.

It was…. Spring?

—-

10 years later

“Aaaaand, that will be 100 silver pieces please!” Sinclaire declared proudly, glad that he had managed to make another proper burial at the graveyard flawlessly.

“Thank you so much Mr Undertaker! ” a woman heavily clad in make-up thanked him as she blew her nose into a tissue, eyes still watery.

“A pleasure to do business with you!” Sinclaire bowed and accepted the money from the woman’s butler who was standing beside her.

As Sinclaire pocketed the money, he took a stroll through the graveyard to admire his work.

10 years had passed since he met that angel Deniere, and he had been brought back to life. He had still hid his eyes with his overgrown hair, such that he managed to survive on his own without anyone figuring out about his eyes, and had started a pretty successful job as an undertaker.

Sinclaire veered off into the woods. The sounds of nature calmed him much during this time of Spring, but it was quickly interrupted by a very familiar voice.

“Child…”

Suspicious, Sinclaire threaded lightly through the bushes, only to find a wounded person sprawled against the river bank.

No- it wasn’t a person. It was an angel. Strangely, his wings were black, and his halo was gone.

“D-Deniere…” Sinclaire gaped.

“I’m glad you’ve fared well, my boy. ” Deniere managed a faint smile. His head, arms, torse and wings were bleeding all over, causing the water to turn bright red. His pitch black wings were drooped in a weird position, and that light aura around the angel had faded to reveal a dark purplish aura instead.

“What…” Sinclaire stuttered.

“I’m terribly sorry. ” the angel started tearing then. “I’ve become a fallen angel…”

—-

To be continued…?