“Crack! Crack!” A whip carved its way into Alhen’s back.

  His skin tore off effortlessly with the gliding movements of the tool.

  Through each hit, he gritted his teeth with more strength, feeling how the pressure mounted until blood started coming out of his gums.

  “Ahghh!” He screamed.

  Ropes wrapped around his hands, and he kneeled on the ground with his ankles facing the wrong direction, receiving his baptism.

  He had already lost sensation in his lower half.

  His arms couldn’t bring themselves to manifest an ounce of strength, hanging loosely on the bindings.

  Father Vincent looked with narrowed eyes from the side as the torturer struck him.

  “Alhen,” he said lowly while getting closer to him.

  “Why are you screaming?” There was no emotion in those words, making Alhen’s body shiver.

  Alhen gazed at him slowly, with great effort.

  The look on Father Vincent’s face showed genuine confusion.

  This would have made him angry if not for the fact that the constant whipping kept him from showing anything else other than pain and exhaustion.

  “Pain is your ally, not your enemy. Without it, making it as a hunter will not be possible,” he said.

  Alhen tried to focus on his words, but the whip, leaving deep gashes on his back, didn’t help with his effort.

  He closed his eyes from a strike much harder than before, leaving him gasping and making him throw up on the floor.

  Due to the lack of food in his body, all that came out of his mouth was a wet pale liquid that stained the ground and Father Vincent’s shoes.

  The father, however, didn’t seem to be bothered, and Alhen kept his gaze locked to the ground.

  He felt a hand nearing his chin, taking hold of it.

  Father Vincent raised his head with his hand until their eyes met.

  “Never look down,” he stared deeply into Alhen’s eyes.

  “Always look in front of you. Even if someone tortures you, even if you feel pain, even if you want it to go away, even if you want to die… never look down.”

  The seriousness in those words made him momentarily forget where he was.

  That was until he felt a hard strike on the back of his head, making the world turn black for a second and begin spinning.

  It took a while for his vision to stabilize, and he found himself staring at the ground once more.

  Alhen tensed the parts of his body that weren’t too damaged and stared deeply into the father’s eyes, causing a small smile to manifest on his face.

  “Good, remember that the outside is dangerous. I’m doing this for your survival,” he said before slowly walking to the side of the room.

  After a while, the blind man who whipped Alhen stopped.

  His body couldn’t relax; however, he was feeling a deep burning sensation on his back, and his body shivered from the cold and pain.

  Everything hurt; now that it was all over, moving seemed worse than the torture he’d just gone through.

  “You did well for your first time; get used to it. We will be increasing the difficulty over time,” Father Vincent said.

  Alhen nodded absentmindedly and dreaded the time when he would have to do this again.

  The door leading to the room opened, and the nuns who were usually beside the father entered and carried him out.

  His limp body offered no resistance to the manhandling of the nuns, who didn’t care to be gentle with their actions.

  From the corner of his eyes, Alhen could see his friend Henry looking concerned at him, and looking a bit deeper, he saw some fear.

  He could only turn his head towards him and offer a weak smile, regardless of his condition.

  Alhen hoped that it would lessen his friend’s worries, even if just a little bit.

  Despite his good intentions, now Henry appeared more nervous than before.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t talk to him.

  The nuns carried him out of the room and led him through the long hallways filled with prayer.

  Alhen wasn’t sure whether he would ever get used to the fanatics of the church.

  They had been praying for a few hours already, and they didn’t show any signs of stopping.

  ‘How boring does it have to be?’ He wondered, trying to distract himself from the pain.

  His attention was wavering, unable to stay focused on one thing.

  Without realizing it, he found himself in a nursery room.

  His back lay against a bed, causing immense pain once he realized the situation.

  One second, he was being carried, and the next, he appeared in bed.

  “Did I lose consciousness?” He said in a low voice, but no one answered him.

  Candles lit up the place; the smoke emitted entered his nostrils and made him cough.

  Sixteen beds, all organized, extended through the room.

  Besides him, Alhen could see the boy who had gone before him to receive his first baptism.

  A nun entered the room at that exact moment, the door making a loud screeching sound while being opened.

  A single nun carried a tray, and perched atop it was a blue vial with a golden eye in its center.

  Her blond hair almost reached the ground, and the almost bored lower half of her youthful face, which he could observe, made her seem indifferent.

  He shifted his gaze.

  Alhen’s eyes didn’t divert from the mysterious liquid, wondering what it might be.

  The nun placed the tray on Alhen’s thighs and took hold of the vial.

  Opening it, a rich smell of vanilla wafted through the air.

  His body relaxed, and he could feel himself getting better by the second.

  She offered the liquid to him, and he gulped it down with effort, his throat feeling like sandpaper.

  A warm feeling enveloped his body; it felt like it was hugging him, and Alhen almost thought that it was worth it going through that torture for it.

  His minor wounds healed rapidly, while the more serious ones slowly diminished in size, but didn’t close completely.

  Alhen released a sigh of relief as he felt strength returning to his body.

  “What was that?” he asked, but got no answer in return.

  Behind the veil, he didn’t know whether the nun was looking at him condescendingly or if that was her normal stare.

  Either way, the nun left the room, leaving him and the boy alone.

  Alhen took a second for the feeling to settle down before looking to his side, finding the boy staring at him with furrowed brows.

  “Why does Father Vincent like you so much?” he asked without missing a beat.

  Alhen remained silent, which made the boy stare at him harder.

  After a while, all that could come out of his mouth was, “I don’t know either.”

  The boy tsked before looking away from him and fixating his eyes on the ceiling.

  He remained staring at it for a few seconds before a scowl appeared on his face.

  Closing his eyes, a frown remained present on his face at all times, even with his eyes closed.

  In Alhen’s mind, he thought about all the times that Father Vincent had favored him over the others, and he still couldn’t figure out why.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  He didn’t consider himself particularly special.

  Minutes passed with him being lost in his own mind.

  He noticed that the boy beside him had fallen asleep, something that surprised him due to the short time that had passed.

  The door abruptly opened, and some nuns came inside carrying someone’s body.

  Alhen opened his eyes widely as he recognized the person; it was Henry.

  His body, limp as a rag and badly bruised with many cuts across his body, didn’t seem to hold any strength.

  His gaze, which projected his worry, followed Henry until the nuns laid his battered body beside him.

  They practically made him inhale the vial, lacking any finesse and care in their treatment of his friend, and he almost choked on it, having to take multiple breaks to gulp it all down.

  With how Henry was being treated, he could say that he himself got luxury treatment in comparison.

  “Henry!” He exclaimed in a low voice.

  Despite taking that mysterious liquid, his throat wasn’t healed fully, making his voice sound weaker than normal.

  He wondered whether to do something or to stay in place, but ultimately decided on the latter.

  He saw the injuries of his friend lessening until he regained strength.

  The nuns left after finishing their job, slamming the door behind them, startling both of them.

  Alhen gained his composure quickly and didn’t pay much attention to that, focusing on his friend instead.

  “Henry, how are you feeling now?” he asked softly.

  Henry quickly turned to look at him, and his eyes seemed different.

  He breathed heavily, even after taking the vial.

  Deep inside those eyes, he could see it, that feeling of dread that didn’t allow him to breathe.

  Alhen placed his hand on his shoulder, having to extend his arm a bit as the beds were a little separated.

  With that, he breathed deeply and seemed to relax his body slightly before looking at Alhen.

  “Sorry… I don’t know why I am acting like this,” Henry said, his voice now steady.

  Despite his attempts to hide it, Alhen could see that his friend was putting on a mask, not allowing for his true emotions to show.

  Alhen kept his arm on his shoulder and stared at him for a few seconds until Henry released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

  “Hahh,” Henry appeared to be calmer now.

  “Don’t worry. You are still alive; you are fine. Considering all the things that you have gone through, it’s only normal that you reacted the way you did.” Alhen reassured.

  Henry didn’t seem relieved in the slightest, but uttered his thanks either way.

  “Thank you… I-I never want to feel that again. Even though I come from the poorest district of the kingdom, this has never happened to me."

  "I did not know that you could feel so much pain and fear, that I could feel like this,” Henry said.

  Henry’s gaze seemed lost on the ground, and Alhen didn’t know what to say for a second, struggling to find the words to reassure his friend.

  “Well, the important thing is that it’s over. You will not have to worry about it for some time, but let’s not focus on that. Can you tell me what the outside is like?" Alhen asked.

  "I’ve never seen it before, and to be honest, I’m already tired of being in this place; it’s been nine years already, and I have never even caught a glimpse of the world outside the church,” he commented.

  His attempt to distract Henry seemed to work, getting him out of his reverie.

  Henry avoided Alhen’s gaze, looking at the ceiling instead before beginning to talk.

  “I have not seen the other districts, but I will tell you about the one I am from. It is called the Lunar district, and apparently, it is the worst district."

  "It is closed off so the moon doesn’t reach it and turns you into a monster, at least that is what I heard, and it keeps away the creatures of the night.” Henry paused, thinking about what to say next.

  “The ceiling is barely ten feet tall, and they do not allow us to leave, and we never have enough food. There are many people with sticks on the streets, and they hit you for no reason."

  I once had to eat a rat because we had nothing to eat, but I have seen people do worse. There was this guy who ate a man, right in front of everyone! And nobody cared.”

  Henry looked shaken.

  ‘Talking about his home district must have been hard for him,’ Alhen thought as he observed his friend’s facial features, and his expression shifted to one of discomfort.

  ‘How did Henry survive in that place for that long?’ He wondered.

  “It must have been hard… living like that.”

  There was a silence, and Henry responded with a simple “Yeah.”

  “What was that about turning into a monster from the moon?” Alhen changed the topic, hoping to relieve some tension.”

  “Well, since I can remember, I have always been told that looking at the moon will turn you into a ‘Wiht’, some kind of monster,” he explained.

  Alhen frowned, hearing his words.

  “That sounds terrifying, but it also explains why they don’t let us leave this place. All I heard was that the outside was dangerous, but I never knew why; Father Vincent didn’t want to tell us,” he said.

  After those words, yet again, silence; it took a few seconds before Alhen asked another question.

  “And what happened for you to end up in the church?” Henry didn’t answer, and his face shifted into an uncomfortable one.

  His body seemed frozen, and the expression on his face made Alhen regret ever asking that question.

  “My mom… she… sold me to the church.” Before Alhen could say anything, he continued.

  “I once had a dog, his name was Ket, and he was my best friend, the only one, too. He got lost a few hours before I was sold. I tried searching for him, and I can not tell you how long I searched for him; it took me the whole cycle,” Henry said before taking a deep breath.

  “Well, eventually, I found him, dead. He… was being eaten.” Alhen’s eyes widened as he struggled to think of something to say.

  Henry continued, however, despite looking like he didn’t want to keep talking.

  “Four men surrounded Ket; they were huge, and they were eating my friend. I did the only thing that I could think of at that moment. I ran.”

  Henry bit his lip, and Alhen could see his eyes struggling not to let tears fall.

  “And I didn’t look back… T-that’s why when I got home and realized that I was being sold off, I didn’t fight it. I deserved it. For leaving my best friend behind.” He couldn’t hold it anymore.

  Tears fell, and Alhen rushed to wipe them off with his hands.

  Not a second later, Henry felt Alhen’s arms wrapping him into a comfortable hug.

  Henry’s tears stained his shirt, and the sound of muffled emotional pain enveloped the room.

  Alhen could hear Henry’s rapid breathing and felt the way he shook without control.

  At this point, there was nothing to say.

  Alhen stayed silent and kept Henry close until he calmed down.

  “Sorry.” Henry slowly pulled away from Alhen’s hug, looking ashamed of what had happened.

  “I feel better after talking to you about that. It means a lot to me, truly,” Henry thanked sincerely.

  Alhen shook his head and said, “You are my friend, it’s only natural that I do this.”

  Noticing no response from Henry, he changed the topic.

  “What else do you know about these wihts?”

  Henry turned to look at Alhen and observed his expression.

  “Is something wrong?” Alhen asked.

  “No, it is nothing. I just realized that since this was supposed to be a church made to make you a hunter, then this should be common sense,” Henry responded.

  Alhen sighed and focused his expression back on him.

  “Father Vincent told me that we would start our hunter classes next year. For now, all we have been doing is learning how to read, write, and do math—all the basic stuff,” Alhen scoffed.

  “We also help around the church, but we haven’t done it much since a couple of cycles ago; we are basically just existing at this point,” he finished.

  Alhen sounded frustrated; it takes a lot to avoid boredom when it’s the same thing every day.

  “Very well, let me explain the basics then,” Henry said before getting into a comfortable position on the bed.

  “I’m going to explain it exactly as my mother described it to me.”

  Alhen noticed the fleeting sadness on his face as he said those words, and he could guess why that was.

  “Hundreds of years ago, a being known as the ‘Nameless Lord’ appeared and took his position on the moon. It plunged the world into eternal night,” Henry said, letting his words sink in.

  “Everyone who stared at the moon became wihts; terrifying creatures whose instincts are to spread and kill every single human on ‘Lerethia’, our world.”

  Henry paused to look at Alhen, who had his eyes open widely.

  Henry then continued with a slight smirk.

  “Basically, hunters hunt down these wihts and keep everyone safe. The kingd-” Henry didn’t have time to finish as nuns opened the door and brought back another kid, interrupting their conversation.

  Alhen looked at his friend and thanked him for the information.

  “We should stop here; if Father Vincent finds out what we have been talking about, we could get in serious trouble,” Alhen whispered.

  Henry nodded as the nuns placed the kid beside his bed and gave him the vial with the same roughness that he was offered.

  With nothing to do, they lay their heads on the hard straw pillow, feeling uncomfortable.

  As soon as they relaxed on their beds, however, they fell asleep almost immediately.

  An unknown amount of time passed before they woke up to the loud clanging of a bell.

  “Clang! Clang! Clang!” Alhen opened his eyes, being disoriented for a second.

  Looking to his side, he could see that Henry was already awake.

  In the entrance to the infirmary was Father Vincent, holding a bell and shaking it repeatedly.

  He entered the room before looking at each kid, making sure to maintain eye contact throughout the exchange.

  His gaze hovered over them before stopping on Alhen, and in a moment, he called him over.

  “Alhen, come here.” It was a simple command devoid of any threatening edge, something that he shouldn’t be worried about, but he couldn’t help but be.

  All the kids looked at him with differing expressions as he gave a slight look in Henry’s direction, who was looking at him worriedly.

  The priest didn’t miss this exchange of looks, and he maintained his eyes fixated on Alhen as he stood and walked over to him.

  Alhen reached his side; the room fell into silence that felt as if it could kill.

  “Henry, come here as well,” he said.

  Henry couldn’t react properly for a second from the surprise, but he managed to get out of bed before walking over.

  Father Vincent left the room and led them outside before guiding them through the maze-like hallways to a finely designed door.

  As they followed the father, they passed by the side of women dressed from head to toe in red who stood and looked in their direction with no expression on their faces.

  They followed them with a turn of their heads, causing both of them to feel uneasy.

  The door had an engraved open eye made out of bright gold.

  The inside looked clean; the room smelled of fresh paper, and the color was primarily light brown, giving off an inviting atmosphere.

  A full bookshelf stood behind a desk, and exotic skeletons of creatures that Alhen had never seen before hugged the walls.

  “Welcome to my office; please take a seat.” Father Vincent said.

  Alhen and Henry did as asked; they sat on chairs in front of the desk while Father Vincent stood and circled them.

  Alhen could see Henry’s shallow, quick breaths from the corner of his eye.

  His own hands trembled slightly, and he squeezed them with strength.

  Father Vincent approached them from behind and got in between them, and wasting no time, he began talking.

  “Henry, I have been told that you were speaking about the outside. Is what I heard true? Do not worry now, you can speak and say the truth, I can assure you that nothing bad will happen to you,” he reassured.

  Alhen began to pale as he stared at the priest's smiling face.

  It looked unnatural on him; that smile seemed fake, it oozed danger.

  He didn’t want to know what would happen once Henry opened his mouth.

  Henry hesitated, wondering what he should do, and when the first word came out of his lips, Father Vincent struck.

  “SLAP!” The thunderous sound spread throughout the room, dying off quickly but leaving behind a lasting impression.

  Father Vincent swiftly knocked Henry off the chair, making him land headfirst on the floor.

  Blood poured out of the back of it and slowly started to paint the ground red.

  “Henry!” With a jolt, Alhen shot up from his chair, knocking it to the floor in the process and rushing to his side.

  He knelt beside him and checked if he still breathed.

  Father Vincent’s gaze followed his every movement with an unbothered expression, not letting his feelings manifest on his face.

  Alhen confirmed that Henry was still alive, something that brought him great relief, but he was badly injured.

  “Father, please, call the nuns!” Alhen threw away his pride and pleaded.

  “Sit down, Alhen.” The Father scoffed and ignored his desperate plea.

  Alhen, however, refused to follow his command and stood there with a stubborn and defiant gaze towards the man before him.

  “I won’t sit down until you get a nurse to come here right now!” Alhen yelled at him.

  Hearing Alhen’s words, Father Vincent did not show any expression, but internally, he was momentarily taken aback; nevertheless, he recovered quickly and resumed his talk.

  “Very well, I will call the nuns, but Alhen, I see you as my son; that’s why I’m like this. You will grow into a great hunter, the strongest there ever was. I’m sure of it."

  "When that happens, never forget where you came from.” Father Vincent placed a hand on Alhen’s cheek and looked at him straight in the eyes.

  Alhen’s eyes were cold, but Father Vincent didn’t seem to mind.

  “Get ready; something interesting will take place soon enough. Be prepared for it, because I am.”

  Father Vincent showed a wide smile, looking excited for what was to come.

  Alhen could only dread that moment, because he knew that when the father smiled, it was never a good sign.