Once upon a time. There was a boy. 12 years old the boy was. He saw a pretty dame from across his father's corn field. He went to see the lady. Only to find her to disappear, just as he got to where she was. He called for her, assuming she had been picked up by a wild animal. He sought for her, both throughout the field and in the forest. He found no trace. He assumed he was daydreaming due to heat stroke or something. For these reasons, he went inside to cool off. He dozed off. As he slept, he dreamt of the girl, thinking about what she was there for, why his mind saw purpose in putting her into his vision. Eventually he awoke, only to be put back to work by his father who had returned from a meeting with the town council. His father said that Elise, his mother, had gone missing. The boy immediately thought of the lady he saw and quickly told his father what he had seen. His father pushed it away for Elise was seen at the market around the time the boy said he saw her.
The boy did not argue, as he had work to do. He set back into the fields, the day had started to grow near. With the woods beside him he always had heard the leaves crunch, but this was different.
He dropped his equipment, and made his way towards the wood. The ebony black crow cawed, startling the boy. He stepped closer, then stopped.
You could hear the blood curdling scream across the country, for he had just seen the eyes of a creature from Hell. What did he do to deserve this? Was it fate or just luck? He stopped screaming when he saw what this creature was.
The warm sun yellow eyes belonged to the creature from Hell.
How had this creature shown affection? This ghastly creature, the creature that had made him scream. The scream that no one answered.
He shook his head in his own disbelief that this creature had shown affection. Somehow he felt like it was not some creature of hell. His mind wondering to what his father had told him of Heaven. He had never believed it, but if he had maybe this creature was sent as protection. For who had been up there knew he needed it.
He looked into the eyes of the creature and whispered a song that he had once heard from some place.
"Soft eyes and a gentle soul, protect me this young night."
The creature let out a sound that resembled a soft moan. What was this creature?
Four days had passed since he met the creature. Four days since he was thrown into the towns asylum. Being called crazy wasn't easy when you are the head farmers son. He had prayed to whatever God there was for someone to save him from this place. This place where people had pulled out their hair in the feeling of anger, this place where disease roamed the floors at night. Had he done something wrong to deserve this? He had told the truth, just like he had been taught.
His father, he was the one to throw him into the asylum. Acting as this was not his son, talking of possession.
The word of the yellow eyes creature got out and everyone still laughed. There was no reason to, for what had he done to not be trusted?
Suddenly he snapped out of thought. He had to et out. He wasn't crazy, but this place would drive him to it.
He started to pray. Not to the heavens, but to Hell. If one side wouldn't help him, then he had to try with the other.
A night had passed and nothing had happened. He kept to himself, watching for the yellow eyed creature that he had grown to love.
Soon six years had passed since he had heard from the yellow eyed creature. He had grown not to love it, but to hate it. This creature had left him hear, his heart full of love and hope. His heart now was empty, only filled with grief.
One day he heard a tapping, a deep rapping at his prison door. He opened the slot that he was allowed and saw the creature. He pleaded with it now, just to get him out. He made it think that he still loved.
The door was open and the creature was dead, he had grown to love this place. He kept his cell clean, and welly ordered.
You could hear a soft whimper as he tore the neck of this creature, and with swirling mists around it, he saw it transform. He started to weep for he knew not what he had done. He tore out the throats of one he loved, and now he wept over the lady's body wishing he could take it back. He whispered his song once again, with his tears falling on her soft cream face. He pushed back her auburn hair and cradled her. Maybe he was a mad man. Maybe he was the real creature from Hell.