Tragedy

Alex

'That went easier than I thought.'

Pleased, I grabbed an old piece of leather out of my pocket, wiping clean the blood from the birth and started walking back towards my cabinet.

"But… My blood's not that color…"

Then, the rookie said something that made me stop completely. Remembering that day, I couldn't help but get angry.

**

Almost 2 years ago exactly

"Hey!"

I had stopped by Carsten's shop after work to pick up dinner for my family, a routine I had become accustomed to after many years.

Unfortunately for old Carsten, a small thief came by and took some mushrooms off the stand. I tried to grab the kid, but they had already disappeared into the crowd.

"Sorry Carsten…"

I awkwardly scratched my neck.

'I should've been able to reach them. What happened?'

"Don't worry about it. They didn't manage to get much. Here's some Dark Mushrooms."

Surprisingly, Carsten was in a good mood today. It wasn't for no reason that he was known as "Old Grouch" with the regulars.

I gave Carsten 12 Red Crystals and started making my way back home. Only a handful had the luxury of having a home in Adonia, and I was one of the lucky few.

My job as a Crystal Miner was one of the highest-paying, and I had been working there for almost a decade, now that I think about it. Time really flies…

Despite having a good steady income, I was only recently able to purchase a house with my wife, Cynthia, who worked at a farm in Tauran Junction.

Together, we recently welcomed little Dylan into the world; an event that not many could say they participated in.

I finally reached my house and took out my special Crystal Keycard, opening the heavily reinforced stone doorway.

However, instead of being welcomed into my home by my wife or even by the cries of Dylan, I was welcomed by the heavy odor of blood on the air and the sound of chomping coming from further inside my home.

As I peeked my head into the living room, I saw a sight nobody should ever have to witness in their lives. My family was being eaten on the floor.

Overcome by rage, I grabbed the assailant's shoulder, turning their head around to meet my right hand tightly clenched into a fist.

Their body fell backwards onto the floor, but before they were able to get up, I straddled their chest, laying into their face over and over.

With the muscles that I had acquired from years spent constantly swinging into stone, crystal, and ore, I made quick work of the assailant; their head now a mess of mush and skull fragments.

Stepping back, I now took in my surroundings.

My son–all but a bloodied blanket in the hands of my wife.

My wife–her throat now a cavity; one arm ripped off of her otherwise untouched body.

Turning back to the victim of my rage, all that I could tell from their remains was that it was a female, and her blood was a strange cerulean color.