Shadows of Dawn
17th February 1989
Inside the familiar damp of her office, nestled within the heart of the orphanage, the matron sat immersed in her work. Worry etched lines of concern across her face as increasing reports from some of the children painted a less than ideal picture of her favourite child.
Bondrewd seemed to have taken their previous conversation to heart, no longer secluding himself in his room but instead mingling more and more with the children. However, the nature of his interactions remained a mystery to her.
Her contemplations were abruptly interrupted by a timid knock on the door, followed by the entrance of a blonde-haired child, his cheeks flushed with distress and innocence lingering in his wide eyes.
"M-matron, Bondrewd killed my pet rat," he stammered nervously, tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. His words hung heavily in the air, punctuated by the weight of accusation and uncertainty.
The matron's heart clenched at the boy's distress, but skepticism clouded her judgment. "I have spoken with him and a few others... It seems that you are the only one who seems to believe so," she replied, her tone tinged with doubt. Yet, beneath her composed façade, a seed of doubt gnawed at her resolve.
The boy's insistence and tears tugged at her conscience, casting a shadow of uncertainty over her resolve. Could Bondrewd, her trusted child, be capable of such cruelty? She wrestled with the question, torn between opinion and truth.
"I'm telling the truth!" he cried, desperation lacing his voice as he prepared to storm off, only to be interrupted by another knock on the door.
This time, it was Bruce, his demeanor notably changed from the timid boy she once knew. His confidence exuded authority as he addressed her curtly.
"Matron," he began, his voice steady and resolute, a stark contrast to the trembling boy before him. His presence commanded attention, a silent reminder of the shifting dynamics among the children.
"Next time knock" She responded sternly
"This will be the last time" Bruce retorted, an arrogant smirk hung on his face.
"What did yo-" The matron began only to be interrupted
"We're out of toilet paper" Bruce said matter-of-factly earning her increased displeasure.
"I'll get some later now I have work to do so please leave." With ire in her tone, the matron sent the two out.
As the matron dismissed the two boys, a sense of unease settled over her. Something was amiss among the children, a subtle undercurrent of tension that eluded her understanding.
As she prepared to leave for errands, a faint chill danced along her spine, a premonition of impending doom. Ignoring the feeling, she headed toward the front door stepping out into the cold. only to be startled by the appearance of the blonde boy who hung unsurely behind her
"Matron, you asked for me?" he inquired, confusion evident in his voice. His innocence seemed at odds with the gravity of the her premonition, casting a haunting contrast against the backdrop of uncertainty.
"No, I didn't call for you," she replied, her gaze drawn to the second-floor window where Bondrewd's eyes met hers with an eerie intensity. The weight of his gaze bore down on her, a silent exchange passing between them.
A sense of foreboding gripped her as she hesitated, a silent plea lingering unspoken between them. And then, with a wordless farewell from the boy above, she felt her body lurch forward as if propelled by an invisible force.
The world blurred as she tumbled down the stairs, her mind reeling with disbelief and betrayal. Rain pelted the ground as her vision dimmed, a final scream echoing in the night air as darkness enveloped her.
In her last fleeting moments, the matron's suspicions were validated, but the truth brought no solace, only anguish and regret. As her consciousness slipped away, she was left with a single, haunting question echoing in her mind: "Why?"
Screams rang out as she hit the floor with a thud alerting the various children.
Cold eyes watched on before dissipating behind cold, frost tinged glass.
As the matron's lifeless body lay sprawled on the cold ground, a chorus of panicked voices erupted among the children. Bruce, his features twisted in a mask of false concern, seized the opportunity to deflect blame.
"It was him! He pushed her!" Bruce's accusatory finger pointed towards the trembling blonde boy, his voice laced with venomous conviction. The other children, fueled by fear and confusion, joined in the accusation, their voices rising in a cacophony of chaos.
The blonde boy stood frozen in shock, his innocence shattered by the weight of unfounded accusations. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events.
As the commotion reached a fever pitch, Bruce's voice rose above the fray, his authoritative tone cutting through the chaos like a knife.
"Enough!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the dimly lit corridor. "Somebody inform the police!"
With a subtle nod from Bruce, some older children dispersed, leaving the blonde boy standing in the wake of their accusations. Trembling with fear and uncertainty, he turned and fled.
"Catch him, I'll go call Bondrewd" Bruce screeched as children ran out of the orphanage after the guilty one.
As the chaos subsided Bruce turned and left, his face turning pale as he stood alone in a dimly lit corridor, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. Ignoring his feelings, he strode purposefully towards the end of the hallway, where darkness lurked like a malevolent shadow.
With each step, the air grew colder, sending shivers down his spine. Yet, Bruce pressed on, his determination overriding his apprehension. As he reached the end of the hallway, he peered through the darkness of a room to his left, a sense of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak.
Stepping into the gloom, Bruce found himself enveloped in darkness, his senses heightened as he strained to see through the inky blackness. Suddenly, a pair of cold, purple eyes gleamed in the shadows, piercing through the darkness with an otherworldly intensity.
Frozen in place, Bruce felt a chill run down his spine as the eyes bore into his soul, their gaze filled with an unfathomable depth of power and malice. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the two figures locked eyes, one submissive to the other.
"Good job," a cold, methodical voice rang out, devoid of all emotion, sending shivers down Bruce's spine.
"Th-thank you, Lord," Bruce responded nervously, his words trembling with fear. He knew the power the child in front of him possessed, the true face behind the mask that none others knew. It terrified him to his core.
Yet, within this fear lay ambition. As the figure before him rose inevitably, so would he, as a loyal servant, below one, above many
This maturation and subsequent realization came swiftly, unbeknownst to him. His personality shift was merely a tool in the deft hands hidden in the shadows, hands that would, upon his final usage, simply snuff him out as he had been ordered to do to others.
"You may leave," the voice commanded, and Bruce scuttled off in fear, eager to escape the oppressive presence that loomed over him.
In the darkness, a sigh of relief poured out.
"The plan went off without a hitch. Her death was... lamentable," Bondrewd mused to himself, a brief flicker of sadness crossing his features before being consumed by the hunger that rushed into his eyes.
His entire demeanour shifted from calm to obsessed in an instant a signifier of the duality of his mental state.
"Lamentable, yes, but there must be darkness before the dawn," he concluded, his thoughts a symphony of desire, a brief sadness from death dispelled by an ambition that burned brighter than all others.
"Dawn," a word he had grown fond of, symbolized finality, the sweeping away of all darkness and confusion by the gentle rays of light. Like a prophet, he would guide the ignorant and powerless toward it, offering them salvation from the shadows that clung to their existence.
"All for dawn" Fanaticism hung on his person as his voice projected out, submerged in the darkness he hoped to dispel.