Vengence
He groaned, awaking as he struggled to sit up, the throbbing in his head threatening to make him retch. For a brief moment he felt a tinge of panic, fearing he was blind, only to discover his eyes were sealed with caked and dried blood. Most likely a hint to the throbbing in his head. He struggled to feet, digging the blood from his eye lids and immediately wishing he hadn't.
His home was destroyed. The kitchen was on fire, the furniture splintered. There was certifiably a struggle here. He called out to his family, voice hoarse with dehydration. How long had he been out? He took in the scene of devastation. Scorch marks covered the walls, made from either fire, beam sabers, Shredders of Dracons. He had no idea. He staggered to the front door, or where the front door used to be as it was now a smoking hole. Outside was just as bad as inside. Houses burning. No signs of life. He called out again, hos voice stopping short as he saw them. Two freshly covered graves, one freshly dug and open.
"No..." He whispered, nearly falling to the ground. He forced himself forward. He had to know. He stopped the two covered graves, a small leather strong and pendant was on each. He fell to the ground, there was no doubt that he son and daughter were hear. He prayed to God that their end had been quick. He crawled to the open grave, fighting back the sobs that threatened to over come him. He looked in to the pit, quickly turning away and falling on his back. Sobs racked his body. Her end had not be easy. It was obvious she was forced to dig the graves for herself and her children while her husband was left to burn.
Only he didn't burn. Not in the way they intended at any rate. Rage consumed him. He lay on the ground there next to the remains of his family, neither knowing nor caring how much time passed. Vengeance would keep him warm through out the night and heaven help who ever did this.
His home was destroyed. The kitchen was on fire, the furniture splintered. There was certifiably a struggle here. He called out to his family, voice hoarse with dehydration. How long had he been out? He took in the scene of devastation. Scorch marks covered the walls, made from either fire, beam sabers, Shredders of Dracons. He had no idea. He staggered to the front door, or where the front door used to be as it was now a smoking hole. Outside was just as bad as inside. Houses burning. No signs of life. He called out again, hos voice stopping short as he saw them. Two freshly covered graves, one freshly dug and open.
"No..." He whispered, nearly falling to the ground. He forced himself forward. He had to know. He stopped the two covered graves, a small leather strong and pendant was on each. He fell to the ground, there was no doubt that he son and daughter were hear. He prayed to God that their end had been quick. He crawled to the open grave, fighting back the sobs that threatened to over come him. He looked in to the pit, quickly turning away and falling on his back. Sobs racked his body. Her end had not be easy. It was obvious she was forced to dig the graves for herself and her children while her husband was left to burn.
Only he didn't burn. Not in the way they intended at any rate. Rage consumed him. He lay on the ground there next to the remains of his family, neither knowing nor caring how much time passed. Vengeance would keep him warm through out the night and heaven help who ever did this.