Umm...I'm a first time author on fiction press. Please tell me where to improve. And thanks to my friend saphire644, who reads over and edits this for me, telling me where it only makes sense to me and helping me out, giving me plot bunnies, researching words and phrases in foreign languages for me, giving , I owe her a big thank you.

THANK YOU Saphire644-chan.

PS:Chime is pronounced Chi-mae, originally it was supposed to be Chiame, the Japanese for 'blood' and 'rain' together. I didn't like Chiame that much and changed it to Chime.

Chime looked down at his hands.

Did he feel guilty? Of course not. He knew the fact that he had just killed someone should have made him feel guilty, but he didn't feel any guilt at all.

Just relief.

Was there something wrong with him? He didn't didn't really want to know either.

Probably because the lack of guilt was already throbbing in his conscience.

He walked away from the cottage in the woods. The burning cottage.

What he had done was revenge for the many the witch had killed. Those innocent children.

But was it right?

He rubbed his temples and tried to ignore his conscience.

He kept on walking.

Walking towards the bloody sun.

His name was Chime; he knew it was an odd name, but the years spent as the witch's apprentice had dulled the slight embarrassment he had whenever the name appeared. Most of the witch's victims never knew and never found out about his name. He was simply a shadow, her barely there assistant.

Chime tried to avoid being in their lives as much as he could. He had no right to be more than a shadow in their lives, after all Chime was helping them to their deaths.

Before, they had disturbed him, made him unable to even look at them properly. He didn't want to think of the victims, they made him think of his brother.

Chime didn't mind anymore, he was used to it.

Twelve years old and a murderer. The witch would have been proud of him. Something he rather not think of.

Another thing he rather not think of.

As he walked away, the sunrise stained his shadow to make his steps look like blood.

Once upon a time, there were was a boy and his younger brother. They were unhappy and young, and had ran away from their unwanted guardians. And so they found themselves in the woods they were warned to stay away from.

The witch had first came upon them when they had unknowingly stumbled upon her cottage He and his younger brother, both young innocent little children lost in the woods. The dark, deep woods.

It wasn't hard to find the cottage. Nor were there any problems getting closer and closer to that destructive cottage in the darkness.

Like flies into the web of the spider, and trapped by the harsh binding of the web.

Eventually they were eaten.

Literally for his brother. The witch had plumped him up, making him eat, as he cried she shoved the food down his throat. She didn't care about the tears streaking down his face as he tried not to throw up. He had thrown up once, and the witch had punished him. The scars were still there.

Then one day, his poor, sweet brother had been thrusted from one cage into another. Into his fiery doom.

She had eaten his little brother, cackling and savouring the bites.

For him, part of his will and being was eaten away. She managed to force something in him to change, no, she had eaten up his past self. Or at least most of it.

The witch took him on as an apprentice so she could pass on her legacy of magic. Black , blood rituals, curses and more. At first he was disgusted, but what he could do? So he slowly became indifferent, his heart hardening into a cold, empty diamond.

The witch was dead. Bringing her to the masses she had killed. She had not been given a grave, her body feasted upon by all, left to be nothing but food for the lowest of the low.

She deserved it.

He blinked into the bright light of the sun. It hadn't been very bright inside the witch's cottage and he had only gone out in the past two years at times like Dawn and twilight to gather materials the witch might need.

His eyes, although not as bad as the witch's were, weren't used to the full glare of the high noon sun.

Chime sighed and kept on walking. There was nothing he could do but make his eyes get used to the light.

The sun was now setting, Chime had walked the whole day. He wasn't really that hungry enough to eat, time spent with the witch had made him used to hunger. As the sun slowly fell back down, he wondered what he was going to do now.

Chime had no one left that he truly cared for. The people he once knew probably thought he died, and he didn't mind being thought as dead.

Well, he guessed he would just start all over now.

Chime's new life started with him falling asleep on the rough, hard ground.

NOTES for this story (you probably should read)

Well, this is a fantasy world. FYI: No there are no elves. Yes there is magic. There are people who's bodies are just bodies (a.k.a. human, nothing more, nothing less. Then there are creatures made entirely of magic. These are Elementals; like a water Elemental, they are immortal and are powerful, good thing there aren't a lot of them. Then there are the ones who are a hybrid of magic and flesh. Around 40% of the population is a hybrid, better known as "halflings". They have blood and flesh, but there is a bit of magic (not a lot like the Elementals) woven into the flesh.