Chapter Text
A small boy with fiery orange hair walked beside his mom, gripping her hand firmly. The sun was high in the sky, nearing noon, and its light reflected on the nearby tower everyone could recognize. The small family liked to go into the park surrounding it, even though it was one of the busier parts of Paris.
The child resembled his mother, who had her equally ginger hair tied in a long braid, coming from under her straw hat. In her other hand she carried a basket, filled with vegetables. The boy’s bright blue eyes found their way to them from time to time, trying to sneak a peek of possible snacks inside.
Unlike the mother’s, his facial structure differed. He looked almost foreign.
“Mama?” the small boy tugged at her summer dress. “Where are we going now?”
The woman smiled. “We still need to buy some meat, mon trésor.” Seeing the disappointment flash in his eyes, she added. “After we’re done there, we’ll go look at that pond you like so much, okay?”
“Yes! Can I feed the ducks bread?”
“Of course.”
As they neared the stall, she gently patted his head. “Alright. I need you to wait here for me, okay? I will be quick, so we can finally go look at the ducks!”
He nodded, fiddling with his sleeves. His mom crouched next to him. “Don’t talk to anyone while I’m gone. If someone offers you sweets, say no and come find me immediately.” She looked him in his eyes. “Got it?”
“Yes, mama.”
“That’s my boy.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll be right back!”
There was a man offering him sweets.
The boy faintly recalled the conversation he’s had with his mama just a second ago. Or maybe it was a minute. His teacher said they’ll be learning that next month, so he didn’t really know now. What he knew however, was that he had to say no. Or his mama won’t take him to see ducks.
The man didn’t back off when he refused. Maybe he didn’t speak french? He wondered, if he was from one of the other lands, like when they went to look at the sea last summer. The people there spoke funny and he couldn’t understand them. But he found a cool crab!
He noticed the man was too close now. Oh, he also said something. He spoke funny, even funnier than people at the sea. He sounded kind of like a horse.
Before he could move away, there was a hand covering his mouth. He tried to scream for his mama, but his voice was drowned by the leather of the man’s gloves.
Then, nothing.
The ginger woman put the last item into her basket, before she turned to face her son. “Sweetie, I'm back!” She beamed, expecting her precious son to run to her in excitement. He was a very energetic child, after all.
She was, to her huge surprise, met with complete silence, before she noticed something.
The spot was empty.
Her heart stopped for a second and her breath hitched in her throat. She quickly turned around, frantically scanning the idea for the tell-tale ginger hair, but she was met with nothing. Only people swarming all around her. Her head spinned and she felt lightheaded.
Oh no.
Of course they have called the cops.
They have tried everything. From waiting for the police to search the city, to walking around themselves and asking people. The search has never been succesful.
Months passed, and the small family has long given up. All hopes of ever seeing their son again were crushed when the first “anniversary” passed. They have all mourned and the police slowly stopped searching.
When the mark has hit seven years since the incident, the boy was officially pressumed dead. If there was someone who dared to hope, they have given up at this point.
Fifteen years later, a ginger woman with white creeping up her hair, got a call from a distant relative. Wary, she answered the phone.
Little did she know, that one simple call could completely change everything.