Chapter 2

Wrath

“The silent sobs of children are more painful than the full fury of a man’s wrath.”

        “Alice, will you do it?” she nodded, not finding it necessary to speak. “Are you sure? This is a very difficult task.” she nodded again, still not speaking. “Are you really sure— I mean with all the things you do every day, won’t this become a hindrance?” A soft sigh escaped her lips. “Jae,” she spoke “I accepted it, didn’t I?” he nodded “Then, you don’t have to worry about it becoming a hindrance. This is my job after all. I have done this all my life, more than you ever will in a life time. I can handle this.” Alice gave him a bright smile and ruffled his hair. He made a heavy sigh and sat down on the grass.

         “Goodbye,” he stood up “See you next week. I’ll bring the next one with me on Thursday.” He waved goodbye to Alice as the bus left. His image fading slowly into the distance as the bus zoomed off. And as he did, Alice stood there watching, her hand tightly clutching unto her chest. Her eyes full of sorrow.

        After walking down the mountain, Alice reached a field of dandelions and sunflowers; she called it the Elysium Fields. She walked through the field, picking up some flowers as she did, and continued walking until she reached the bank of the lake that separated her home from the city. She got on the boat by the bank and rowed to the other side; her home territory. It is a long way from the city to her home, but Alice does not complain. She enjoys the walk; coming from that ugly metropolis to the Eden-like paradise that is her home.  

        Her house was big, but also small. It was painted white with vines coiling all over it. Inside, it was painted a very light blue with a little hint of white here and there.  Alice opened the door. She dusted her shoes before she entered her house, to keep it clean. Walking in and out the storage room, she took out a clear glass vase and filled it water before placing the flowers she got from the field. She brought the vase to her room and placed it on the side table then turned on the table’s lamp, bringing light into the dark room. Afterwards, she went downstairs to prepare dinner.

        Silently, he walked down the wooden stairs, his eyes scanning his surroundings as he walked.  As he reached the first floor, he heard clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen; now, he was sure he wasn’t at home. His wife never cooked. Pulling out a knife from his heel, which he was thankful to have not been taken away, he crept slowly towards the kitchen with his knife, inversely held, in front of his chest, ready to strike. Slowly, he reached for the kitchen’s doorknob. He turned the knob carefully, trying to avoid making a sound that might frighten his prey. With one foot then the other, he was able to reach the kitchen without getting caught. He sighed in relief, but quickly sucked it in when his prey had seen him. ‘Shit!’ he mentally cursed. He pounced at his prey, causing them to fall unto the ground, and then pressed the knife against her neck. “Tell me, where I am, who you are, and how I can get out here, or else, I will cut off your neck.” He ordered threateningly as he pressed the knife harder, creating a slit on her neck. The blood from the cut dripped, yet she showed no sign of pain or fear. “Pierce,” she spoke then, his grasp on the knife loosened and the knife dropped onto the floor. He stared at her, asking as if she knew the answer as to why he reacted that way, as to why he was so affected by what she had just said then it him. She had just said his name; the name of a dead man.

       He slowly backed away from the girl; his eyes frantically shifting their gaze from himself to her. “Pierce,” she spoke again “Do you remember now?” He did not respond. She asked again “Do you remember dying?” Still, he did not respond. Sighing, she picked up the knife then stood up. She placed the knife on the sink then walked out of the kitchen. She scurried upstairs and entered her room, walked towards her desk, and then opened the box on top.  She took out something from the box then retreated downstairs into the kitchen.

        Pierce did not move from his position. He was still seated on the floor, blankly staring at the other side of the room. The girl walked towards Pierce, upon entering the kitchen. She kneeled down then, opened Pierce’s hand whilst placing something in his hand then closed it. She stood up then left, but as she did she said “Pierce, there is a reason as to why you are here. Try to remember the past and you might find the answer. And, by the way, my name is Alice Clow and I am the doctor of the dead.”

         After hearing what Alice had just said, Pierce snapped out of his trance and opened his hand; ring laid on his palm. Tears fell from his face as he remembered everything that has happened from before; before he killed himself.