Utterly Mad

Flynn was as still as a statue, the orange light that burned his home and the flesh of the ones he loved being cast over him like some cruel spotlight. Flickers of light reflected in Flynn's horrified eyes, and all he could hear was the roars and screams of the inferno in front of him.

Embers and ash blown onto Flynn's face to awaken him from his state of paralysis, and he could vaguely hear his brother say something, but Flynn couldn't concentrate while his dead family were looking back at him. Shells. Used dynamite, and oh, the casings. The mere thought that one of those casings held the bullet that shot his dear Pa sent Flynn down to his knees, clenching his teeth and fists as the brim of his hat covered his wincing eyes. The cries of his sister sent Flynn's hands numb and uselessly laying by his sides.

Slowly looking up into the sky, huge tears rolled down Flynn's cheeks, and he screamed into the taunting night sky as far as his voice could let him. He didn't care if anybody knew - he didn't care at all any more.

But he was going to find who did this. And they would pay the debt of his family's lives and his sister's cries in blood.