An Eye for an Eye

Revenge is a dish best served cold, especially when it has been growing cold over 10 years.


The Loss of an Eye

He watched it burn. The house he had grown up in and the house he had sworn to protect was burning, his hand covering the left side of his face, blood seeping between his fingers from where the blade has pierced his eye. They had taken everything except his money and his life. He wished he couldn't hear the screaming anymore and when he heard the sirens, he closed his only good eye now and let the darkness take him.

Chapter One

The Newcomer

"Who is he?" Came the whisper as an entirely new stranger exited the old rundown miller house. He was dressed in well-worn low riding jeans and a simple white t-shirt with a straw hat covering his black as a raven's wing hair and hiding his eyes. His body was all muscle even through the loose jeans and skin tight shirt; it was obvious that he did something that required him to be in that good of shape. Suddenly the male walked towards the slightly beat up but well-loved truck he had parked in the driveway of the old miller place and pulled down the hatch to the bed of the truck with practiced ease. A casual hop and he was in the back grabbing the now visible handle of a hand pushed lawnmower and pulling it to the edge of the bed of the truck completely oblivious seeming to all the stares he was getting as he jumped back down. Once again ignoring the crowd he manhandled the lawnmower without even a grunt of exertion before placing it on the ground.

"Probably will need the weed whacker and machete too." The male mused in a deep yet soft baritone that could probably soothe a charging tiger. With that he hopped back into the bed of his truck.

"I see you already got started." Came the calm statement and the male looked up pushing the visor of his hat back to reveal the strangest eyes anyone had ever seen, the left one was the deepest black that drew you in and the other was a crystalline blue almost the exact same shade as the ocean.

"Oh, hey Alistir." He said before grabbing the weed whacker and the machete once again jumping down to land on the concrete and placing on the ground beside the lawn mower before going to grab the gas tank.

""You could have bought any house you wanted and yet you buy this rundown heap." The male glared at that before he continued to pour the gas into the tank of the lawnmower reigning in his temper.

"I like this "rundown heap" Alistir and I do as I want to. So scram." He said testily and Alistir went to retort but the Town's "Grandma" cut him off as she walked forward smiling in welcome.

"Welcome to our humble town." She said in greeting and the male blinked in surprise before giving an easy going grin.

"Why thank you ma'am." He said in return extending a hand. "The name's Yami Sennen."

"Arianna but everyone calls me Grandma." Came her reply taking his hand and he chuckled at her next words. "Madam makes me feel old."

"Nah just distinguished." He shot back playfully as she released his hand. Nobody noticing that Alistir retreated vanishing into the crowd, well nobody but the raven-haired newcomer.