The sounds of chanting ring in Hiro’s ears as he slowly awakens with a wince. His eyes are blurry and heavy as he tries to lift his head. He feels a sharp pain in his stomach as the memory of being stabbed rushes towards the front of his mind. The choir’s relentless chorus echoed in his ears, a chaotic symphony of chanting voices and overlapping melodies that seemed to blur into one deafening roar. Slowly, his eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light. Before him stood a sea of robed figures, seated in perfect rows, their faces obscured by shadows, yet their presence overwhelming.

  Where am I?

  He tries moving his body, but it doesn’t listen. His body feels heavy and as he tries pushing himself through it, he realises that he’s tied to a wooden structure. His heart pounds out of his chest as his eyes dart around him, five others are all tied to crosses beside him going through the same confusion and horror he is. It’s only then as he tries to scream out that he feels the cloth tied tightly around his mouth.

  He looked along the row of people, women, men and a young girl directly next to Hiro. Her terrified eyes locked onto his as her chest rises and falls frantically in her panic. Their eyes lock for just a moment as they practically cry out for his help. Hiro tries once more to pull himself free but the rope around his arms was unforgiving as it bites into his skin with every futile tug.

  The chanting and singing reaches a slow end as they are replaced with a disturbing chorus of cheers from the robed figures in front of them.

  A figure clad in a robe far more intricately designed than the others steps up in front of the rabid wave of people as he raises his hands.

  A sudden hush falls over them.

  “Welcome all of you! We are gathered once more to give our sacrifices to the forgotten god!”

  The men and women on the crosses’ muffled screams barely cut through the roaring crowd.

  The man’s voice rang out over the crowd, his words dripping with mockery, 'These are the chosen... the blessed sacrifices!

  The six wriggle around desperate to get free from the rope. They all share a stab wound in the stomach with dried blood painting their shirts. Hiro’s eyes shake as the situation begins to really dawn on him. His muffled scream is drowned out by the cheering.

  The man pulls down the hood of the intricately designed robe as he walks up and down the ‘sacrifices’ his eyes were filled with bloodlust. He looked familiar to Hiro as he stared deep into his soul.

  “We’ve got some lively ones this month” He places his hand on Hiro’s cheek and runs it down his chest until he touches his stab wound. He presses his thumb into it causing Hiro to shriek in pain.

  “Oh, forgotten one! Can you hear our cries?! Can you answer our calls?!” The crowd fill the building with bellowing chanting that feels heavy on Hiro’s already weighed down shoulders.

  He pulls out a knife from the sleeve of his robe and dances with it to the figures. He swings it in front of the tied-up sacrifices every flinch or wince would garner a cheer. They were toying with them all.

  He wanders over to Hiro and places the knife against his cheek “Maybe you should be the first to answer the call?” Hiro’s eyes shake with fear as he stares into the demented pupils of a mad man.

  I’ll kill him!

  Hiro hears a roar from within. The voice grates against his ears, an unbridled rage slowly building within. He can feel something dark slowly taking hold of his body.

  The man smiled as he walked to the opposite side of the row of people.

  “I think I’ll choose you”

  Hiro closed his eyes and looked away, all he heard was a thud and the others crying out. The crowd again burst into roars. Arms flailed in the crowd as the cheered the man slowly losing the light from his eyes.

  The young girl beside him stares directly at him, not a single inch of her body was still as the terror oozed from her. She was looking at him helplessly and agonisingly he couldn’t do anything.

  The crowd was building to a crescendo with every thump of the knife into another sacrifice. The muffled screams were getting quieter and quieter as the small stage the man stood on became a pool of blood.

  The man leaned in towards the girl. She could feel his breath against her face. She felt as though she had a hand clenching her throat, she could no longer scream out.

  I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him if he touches him… I’ll kill him if he touches my Hiro!

  The voice causes him to writhe in pain as it rings out constantly.

  “And two remain…” He places the knife against the young girls neck.

  She can’t even move anymore. Frozen completely in fear.

  Just as the man goes to slice… her eyes shimmer a vibrant red. Tiny arms reach out from her neck and push the knife away. In her desperation she releases her power.

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  But this last gasp show of survival only makes the man cackle. He lifts the knife and slashes down. Straight through the multiplying hands and nicking her neck. She screams out as the cut hands retreat into her neck.

  Her red eyes slowly lose their colour and she passes out. The man looks disappointed, the crowd boos.

  “Really? I didn’t even get to see the pain in her eyes…”

  He shrugs and moves onto Hiro. “Guess I’ll save her for last then”

  He lifts his knife and points it straight to his chest.

  Please don’t do this! Kyoko I’m so sorry!

  As his eyes slam close and he prepares for the strike of the knife he opens his eyes to darkness. He can’t see anything. Everything around is blank. He feels light.

  Am I dead…?

  The thought soon escapes his mind as he feels an embrace from the darkness. It feels nostalgic and new at the same time.

  “I’m here… leave it to me” the voice is soothing as he slowly closes his eyes.

  “Ok”

  The man laughs out as he slams the knife into Hiro’s chest. As he waits for the usual look of hopelessness to show he doesn’t get it. Hiro just goes limp. His eye twitches in anger as he pulls the knife out and slams it into him again and again and again.

  He breathes heavily before freezing in his place.

  Hiro’s head lifts up. There's no control. His movements are puppet-like as if a puppeteer was high above slowly lifting him. His eyes slowly opened causing the man to fall back. The church grew silent as they watched a miracle take place in front of them.

  A piercing white etched itself onto his pupils as his eyes began to shake wildly. He opened his mouth as a black mist poured out and began to swirl around his once limp body on the blood soaked cross.

  The man crawled backwards, his hand slipping off the raised stage and onto the floor below. Everyone was in stunned silence as Hiro was enveloped by the dark mist. His body fell to the floor as he pulled himself free. He slowly stood tall as the mist gave him the look of a crazed animal.

  He was hunched over and breathing erratically, the white eyes burned through the darkness, unblinking and unyielding like a predators gaze and his prey was crawling away scared.

  The crowd began softly chanting. They raised their hands in unison and slowly brought them down. They were praying for him with every step he took.

  A voice from the back of the crowd screamed out “The forgotten god has answered our calls!”

  The man hurries to get away “N-no… you aren’t real. I made you up! You can’t be real!”

  Hiro lets out a breath as the chanting gets louder and louder with every step he takes. His head falls back as he looks to the roof of the building.

  “AAAAAARRGHH” He lets out a blood curdling scream as the chanting only harmonises with him. The crowd prays for his every step as he slowly gets off the stage. The man runs into the crowd as Hiro pauses.

  The bellowing of the sea of robes only grows louder in a maddening swirl of voices.

  In a second, he pounces into the crowd swinging his hands at anything he can grab hold of. He slices and rips at anything that he touches. Bodies fly in whirlpool of bodies. The chanting only grows as blood sprays against the stained windows. He grows closer to the man with every ripped robe and blood splatter.

  Hiro runs rampant killing anyone in his grasp. The crowd loves it as he pulls bodies apart and paints his body with the blood of others.

  Hiro himself is in a dark void, no thoughts or feelings. He just floats in the dark embrace of nothingness.

  Hiro stands surrounded by bodies as he rips apart the final chanting robe. His chest rises and settles at rapid pace but slows down as he doesn’t see anyone else. His hungry eyes then land on the leader of this cult. He slowly back up against the door of the church and he scurries outside.

  The man falls over himself unable to stand in the deep snow. Hiro steps out and stands over him.

  “I-I’m so sorry please forgive me god!” He clasps his hands together and sits in a praying position.

  Hiro doesn’t care about his pleas. He lifts his hand ready to strike.

  Just as he goes to swing… he passes out. His body hits the snow in front of the man with a thud. The once swirling black mist evaporates in a puff of powdery snow. His body lies still and unmoving as the man laughs through his fear. He can’t believe his luck.

  He frantically searches the snow for his knife unable to find it. His hands shake as he digs up the snow around him.

  He quickly lifts himself off the ground and pushes Hiro onto his back. He wraps his hands around his neck and tightens his grip with a cackle. He uses all his strength to quell this flame before the young girl throws her body into him.

  The man shouts at her before cutting his losses and sprinting into the woods behind him. The young girl drops her forehead into the snow and cries out. All the fear and horror released into the red snow below.

  She scoots over to Hiro and lifts his head onto her little legs. She’s so skinny that she’s clearly not lived a fortunate life. Tiny drops of blood land on Hiro’s cheek from her neck. She forms tiny hands to try and stop the bleeding by holding together the wound on her throat.

  She begins to drag Hiro’s lifeless body through the snow and away from the church. The heavy wooden doors of the church rattle with the wind as the bodies of the cultists lie scattered across the floor. Dried blood paints the walls as a reminder of how horrifyingly dangerous whatever it was inside Hiro is.

  Hiro hears a muffled voice call to him. His eyes are blurry and his ears ring.

  Mother…? Kyoko…?

  As his vision improves a young girl smiles down at him. She has a scar across her neck. Her short black hair hangs down casting a shadow on her face.

  “Hello…?”

  She smiles, “Hi” her voice is broken from all the shouting, it comes out raspy.

  Hiro’s eyes can’t quite focus on her as she fazes in and out of focus for him. She is lit by a crackling fire beside them.

  They sit alone inside a shallow cave. The only sounds being heard are those of the fire and the howling wind just outside the entrance flinging snow around.

  She leans in close towards him, “You saved me”

  Two sets of footprints reach the sight of a church hidden by some forest. The crunching of snow beneath their feet is silenced by the growing blizzard around them. Their hoods cover their faces. One of the figures peeks into the door and immediately fall backwards. The other picks them up curious as to what was inside before being held back by the figure wearing a large red jacket. Her white hair just peaking out from under the hood.

  The figure in the blue jacket looks down at the blood in the snow, even if the snow covered most of it there were still faint signs that snow had been disturbed below it. The figure adjusts her goggles

  “what do you think Rose?”

  “Hmm I’m not sure… someone clearly got their revenge on the cult though… I want to leave Isamu”

  Isamu pulled her hood down and lifted her goggles that Hiro stole for her onto her forehead. She squinted her eyes. “Someone could be hurt…”

  Rose looked towards the door of the church as it creaked open, “No… more likely they could hurt someone else. It must’ve been one of the god’s children, right?”

  “Yeah…”

  Rose sighed and pulled down her hood letting her long white hair flutter in the growing wind.

  “Dad’s right… these people... they’re dangerous”