Field of Death: The Culling

Eyes, dark and seething, stare at shadows of light through darkness.

Around him are the dank walls of this place he chooses to stay. Cluttered shelving. A tattered cot. His carving tools. As lock of blonde hair falls over his forehead, he pushes it back, still staring at the dim light that seeps from the space above. The smell of sod and moist earth surround him, penetrate him.

More like home than home. More like his youth than he wants to realize.

~~~
"Ross!"

"Coming, Lancy!" Ross calls over his shoulder as he wipes the stains from his hands onto his pant leg then gathers up his easel. He rolls his tattered parchment and stuffs it under his arm as he tosses his charcoal into the small cotton bag he carries with him always. Everything in place, he rolls to his feet and starts back toward the large white house where he and his older sister live.

He was expecting the Widow Martin to come by this afternoon and this must be her, but he hadn't realized it was getting so late. As he approached the front door, he set the easel aside and smiles at Lancy who stands watching him.

"She's been waiting for ten minutes and she looks uptight." She turns as he enters the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron and following after him into the parlor.

"Widow Martin. You look ravishing this afternoon!" Ross enters the front room with a wide smile and open arms. The woman sitting there begins to speak, but Ross speaks quickly over her, "Now, if I might ask you to sit here in the window where the light can highlight your lovely figure..."

Lancy shakes her head and walks back down the hall toward the kitchen. Ross always had a charm so that no one could be mad at him for long.

~~~
Heart racing. Hands run over the silky surface of his cloak. He catches his breath as he shuts his eyes as the thoughts sweep over him again. He didn't look at it. That would ruin it all. That would make this moment meaningless.

He wanted to be anything. Anything, but meaningless.

~~~
"Now then, how is that?"

"I don't know." the lady tilts her head to stare at the parchment, her index finger tapping her chin.

"How about this. You take it home. Hang it in your very favorite place. Next week, if you still are unsure about it, you can have it without paying me." Ross winks then reaches for the parchment slowly.

"I suppose that would be fine. Of course, I would pay you if I kept it, Ross," she nods once to which he returns a nod.

He escorts her to the door and opens it for her, "Lady Martin, I thank you for your time. Let me know how you decide." With that, he closes the door and turns to stroll back toward the kitchen where his sister is cooking.

"You're too much of a flirt with the older women, Brother."

Ross shrugs and picks up a carrot, "I'm not sleeping with them, Lancy. I flirt. They want to hear the compliments and I don't mind it." He crunches into the carrot and smiles with his cheek filled.

Lancy just smiles back and sets down her current task of cutting an onion, wiping her hands on her apron, "Well now, Mister Flirt. Go gather the laundry from outside."

Ross bows grandly using the carrot as a mock scepter then clenches it between his teeth and steps royally to the door and out.

Lancy smiles and shakes her head.

~~~
Daylight. How did he get here? What was this force within him making him move without his will being tapped?

Weary. Exhaustion. Had he slept yet? All he yearns for is a soft spot of silence. Away from the sounds. The sights that his mind subjected him to.

The younger one going ahead of him. The arms reaching out to take him. The dark place, only slivers of sunlight beaming through the short opening at the other end. It was days. No food or sleep or warmth.

His voice was raw, his throat nearly bloody from screaming.

"HELP!"

With a start, he awakens. Again, the dreams turn him to his task. Guide him to his goal. He stands and moves toward his prey, a boy standing in full daylight at a clothesline. It was incredibly easy to strike him down. His soft flesh gave way quickly to the blade.

He drags the body to a nearby shady spot and positions it against a tree, slipping the block into the pocket before turning and moving away through the thick underbrush.

Another brother removed. Another sibling freed.

Faintly, as he reached the outer edges of the thick forest, he could hear the sounds of the other shrieking his name, "Ross! Oh my God, no! Ross, no!"

She has no idea what he's done for her.