The Innocents by Nathan Senthil (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

“Pl-please…” she implored.

“I am sorry.”

Face twisting in rage and vehemence, the woman swatted his hands and lifted her arm once again. But she didn’t hit. A few moments passed, and she dropped her hand, as if it weighed a ton. “There are some leftovers on the table,” she said and walked away. Ryatt had to rise a little and lean left to see her.

The pig… no, the detective followed her as she trudged to a room. She stopped at the threshold, one of her arms holding the door frame, barricading entry. Should be their bedroom.

The detective opened his mouth, but closed it before saying anything. He repeated the action two more times, like an amnesiac goldfish.

The woman sighed. “I packed already. I’m leaving in the morning.” With the back of her wrist, she smeared the tears cascading down her cheeks without consent. “I-I’m sorry. I just… I just can’t.”

Still shaking, she closed the door ever so slightly. Joshua lingered, watching the door. Then he wiped his face on his shoulder and sniffled.

Silently witnessing all this, Ryatt couldn’t breathe or swallow easily.

Ryatt never had a problem killing because he didn’t believe good people existed. Any person who didn’t try to stop evil deeds happening before their eyes was bad, weren’t they?

Except his mom, every single one of them was as selfish as they came, including himself.

Even pigs did their duties, got paid, and didn’t give a shit about good and evil. But this Joshua, his demeanor, his voice, it all suggested that he was dying inside. He was going way out of his way to sacrifice his marriage, hence his life and happiness, to catch Ryatt.

To stop evil.

With difficulty, Ryatt digested a truth that had dawned on him a while ago: Joshua was like Iris. They both belonged to the unlucky clique of angels God had forgotten to collect when he abandoned the world usurped by demons.

“Hello?” a voice called from above, jolting him.

Heart pounding, Ryatt looked up.

A small head was protruding out of the window on the second floor, the eyes on it peering at him. The boy waved and Ryatt returned the gesture.

“A-a-are you hungry, M-mister?” the boy asked and brandished half a cookie with the other hand. “Want s-s-some?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ryatt grinned and looked around. The streets were still quiet. He grabbed hold of the tendrils and climbed up.

The boy’s room was small. Painted in periwinkle blue, it had no posters or drawings. Books were strewn across the floor but no toys or video games or TV.

The boy was sitting down, his legs tucked under him. He stretched his arm towards Ryatt, holding the cookie he had been eating. But the cookie slipped from his fingers. Seemed like the little one had difficulty with movements.

The boy picked up the cookie and gave it to Ryatt again, who accepted the generous offer and tossed the whole thing in his mouth. It was coconut flavored, laced with butter and cashew.

What was the boy doing up at this time? The ruckus downstairs would have woken him up. The half-asleep child treated himself to a cookie, evidently quenching the sugar crave you get when randomly woken up in the middle of the night.

Snaking a hand into his jacket, Ryatt knelt down in front of the boy and watched his big brown eyes. He pulled out a lollipop and gave it to the boy who accepted it hesitantly.

“I could be called a villain.” Ryatt shrugged as if that was not his problem, but a universal fact that everyone just had to deal with. “But even I love superheroes. You know who my favorite is?”

The boy shook his head, absent-mindedly toying with the lollipop.

“My mom.” Ryatt smiled. “You know who yours should be, handsome?”

The boy smiled shyly and shook his head again, picking his nose.

“Your dad.” Ryatt gave the boy’s bony shoulders a gentle squeeze. “He’s a goddamn hero.”

Ryatt put his head down, ashamed for having planned to kill Joshua and deprive this world of yet another good person.

Then he lifted his head. “You never forget that, you hear?”

The boy nodded and began unwrapping the candy cover.

Ryatt got up and slogged to the window. As he swung a leg over the ledge, he halted and turned to look at the boy one last time. He gave Ryatt a beautiful smile that filled his heart with pure joy. The child must also be an angel. An angel that would inevitably rise above and make this world a better place. Like his mom. Like Detective Chase.

Ryatt just had to ask. “What’s your name, tiger?”

“G-G-Ga…” The boy closed his eyes and tilted his chin up, as he struggled to construct the word. Then he said, in the feeblest of voices, “Gabriel.”

Part II: Joshua

Chapter 16

November 24, 1994. 11:13 A.M.

The piano played in the background a crude, repetitive tune, as he shuffled along in a queue, waiting to deposit cash. The music was temporarily overlapped by commotion.

The ground in front of him caved in. From the smoldering hole, three entities clambered up. Red, blue, and pale green faced demons.

While the red and blue disappeared somewhere, the green masked demon snarled at him. Then it pulled out a huge gun with its claw, blood dripping from the muzzle.

Two loud explosions!

Stunned, he looked back. A woman sprawled on the floor, her pinkish red entrails drooped from a grisly laceration in her stomach, onto the shiny marble.

Wait… two explosions?

He looked down. A red dot appeared on his chest and slowly stretched into a wide blot. Sudden darkness sucked his mind. He unfurled his fingers. Let the coldness consume him.

But…

Why is that goddamn piano still playing its goddamn jingle?

* * *

Joshua awoke with