Before we even had time to process the situation, Henry appeared, and he grabbed me, Ethan, and Peter and that strange thing happened again. The thing where it felt like I was being pulled through a washing machine by my belly button.
We ended up back in the main lobby of The Tower, and Grandad was waiting for us. He looked at me with an interesting look on my face, as though he were studying an alien creature.
‘I’m getting the rest,’ Henry said, before disappearing with another crack.
The orb above Ethan’s head slowly faded away, and Grandad’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth as though he had something to say, but he closed it promptly.
Two more cracks pierced the air behind me. Turning around I saw Mr Fowler standing there, some blood dripping down the left side of his face. In his left hand, he held Natasha, and in his right he held Asbel.
Henry had also reappeared, and he was holding Maltor and Quinn. He and Grandad looked at each other, with a strange mix of resentment and embarrassment on their faces.
I looked down at Maltor’s body. He was mostly healed. Steam still poured from the missing piece of his jaw, but his side was back, so that was good. He had clearly prioritised healing that area, which was smart, it was obviously the more important of the two.
‘Sir,’ Mr Fowler began, and despite what had just happened, his voice was strong, ‘Ethan, this boy, he’s a son of Titan.’
‘Is that what the floating orb was?!’ Ethan exclaimed.
‘Yes,’ Grandad replied. ‘You are a son of the most powerful deity that has ever existed.’
‘Peter got Claimed, too,’ I said. ‘He’s a son of Zeus or something, there was a lightning bolt above his head.’
Grandad pretended to be enthusiastic. ‘That’s good for him! That’s one of the Big Three!’ But then the topic of Peter dropped.
‘Fowler,’ Grandad said, ‘detail what just happened.’
Mr Fowler did, and he did not leave out the details of Ethan, Peter, and I joining in.
‘Albert,’ Grandad said immediately after Mr Fowler had finished, ‘you tell me what it was like for you; what you saw.’
I repeated the events of the past half hour. The adrenaline was still rushing through my veins, spreading throughout my body like a wildfire. The thrill of flying mixed with the cooldown of my anger made me feel like I could scale the walls of The Tower.
‘This is unusual…’ Grandad murmured. ‘Usually, Titan personally Claims his children. The orb hasn’t appeared for decades. Unless he- never mind.’
‘But we must congratulate the students,’ Mr Fowler said, and I could have sworn I saw the trace of a smile on his thin face. ‘Fighting Robert like that…Granted you don’t know who he is, but it’s still a great feat.’
‘You were moving your arm really fast, though, sir,’ Ethan said sheepishly. ‘I didn’t think it was possible to move that fast.’
Grandad continued to murmur to himself. ‘A son of Titan…maybe…maybe there is a bit of hope after all.’
‘Titan?’ I said to Grandad specifically. ‘That’s the big almighty one, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Albert,’ Grandad said, smiling down at me. ‘Ethan is a very powerful young man, as a son of Titan he can do more than any other demigod.’
Ethan was in a particularly good mood after that. After all, why wouldn’t he be? He had just found out that he was a son of the most powerful God that has ever, and probably will ever, exist.
‘I wonder if I can control fire and stuff now,’ he said excitedly.
‘Probably,’ Quinn replied glumly. ‘Watch me be a son of the worst God or something.’
‘I’m just gonna be thankful whoever I’m a son of,’ Asbel said, placing his hand firmly on Quinn’s shoulder. ‘A God’s a God, you know?’
I nodded. ‘Even if I’m a descendant of Hermes or something, I’ll be happy.’
I really didn’t need any more fancy powers. Being a descendant of Titan was the last thing I wanted at the moment. I wasn’t sure exactly what being descended from Titan meant, and what powers it would give me, but I certainly did not want them. In fact, it would be best if I were descended from Hermes or Athena because that would probably give me some useful ‘abilities’ that weren’t anything like controlling the elements.
‘In fact, there is something I need to tell you,’ Grandad said. ‘You can go now, Mr Fowler, if you wish. Get some rest.’
Mr Fowler obeyed Grandad’s orders. There was yet another crack and he vanished in a swirl of grey.
‘It’s about your parents,’ Grandad spoke again, addressing the group. ‘Natasha, Jay, Ethan, and Asbel, your parents have all agreed to come and live in the City.’
Their faces lit up. Maltor, Quinn, and I all stared darkly at one another.
‘They will be given housing either in the Valley or Suburbs, whichever they choose,’ Grandad continued. ‘And you will be moved to live with them.’
‘What about my sister?’ Ethan asked. ‘And my- my dad? My step-dad?’
The ‘step-dad’ part seemed to be more of a question to himself rather than Grandad, as though Ethan was questioning what to call him.
‘If I remember correctly, Ethan, your mother, step-father, and sister are all coming to the City,’ Grandad beamed.
He detailed to the others who were coming for them, as well. Jay’s mom and her boyfriend were coming for him. Natasha’s parents and siblings for her. And Asbel’s mother was going to live with him. Asbel’s brother had decided to live with a friend.
‘What about my mom, though?’ Quinn asked, sounding like he was holding back tears.
‘She declined the offer,’ Grandad replied solemnly, almost wincing.
‘She just doesn’t care about me,’ Quinn murmured angrily, balling his fists.
Maltor placed his hand gently on Quinn’s shoulder. ‘She definitely does, she just doesn’t wanna move-’
‘To a place with her weirdo son,’ Quinn interrupted him. ‘Yeah, I get it.’
Maltor and I glanced at each other nervously.
‘That can’t be it,’ I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. ‘She just doesn’t want the hassle of moving.’
‘Even if it means she’ll never see her son again,’ Quinn murmured now, seemingly getting angrier and angrier with every sentence. ‘I told you, I get it.’
Natasha quickly tried to change the subject. ‘So, uh, when are our parents getting here?’
‘They will all be here by about five o’clock tonight,’ Grandad replied, refusing to look at Quinn.
‘And, before you worry,’ Henry began, and Grandad closed his eyes like people do when they’re annoyed, ‘we’ve freed houses in The Valley, so you can all go to the same school.’
That brightened everybody’s moods, except Quinn. A dark look now covered his face, and he flicked his head in such a way that his brown hair covered his eyes. Was he crying? There was no chance, right? Quinn wouldn’t cry, I was sure of it.
Even in the face of such a powerful enemy, Quinn didn’t strike me as the type of person that would cry. I may have only known him for two months, but I’d like to think that I knew him quite well, and I knew that he would not cry.
I knew how he felt in a way. With every passing minute, it felt harder to contain my emotions, yet easier to live with them. It seemed like I spent every waking moment wanting to cry, but I knew I couldn’t. What kind of person would drag his best friends to a mysterious place that they knew nothing about, only to sit and cry about it?
‘I suggest you head to your rooms and grab your things,’ Henry added, looking at the few of us with families that were coming over.
I noticed that Maltor didn’t seem to care that his family weren’t coming to The City. I shot him a reassuring glance, but the effect was seemingly lost on him. He was staring straight ahead, out of the window. Following his gaze, I realised that he was not staring at anything in particular, rather that he was lost in thought.
Ethan, Natasha, Jay, and Asbel all dashed to the lift and headed upstairs to pack their things. Maltor, Quinn, and I still wore dark looks on our faces. Maltor and Quinn were lucky to have parents in the first place, some kids weren’t that lucky. I cursed myself for being so spiteful.
‘Ah, Albert, Maltor,’ Grandad said brightly. After being somewhat ignored again, Quinn seemed to grow even darker. He gave off an almost threatening aura. ‘We’re going shopping tomorrow, for school supplies. You two need wands, correct? And you might want to tell Natasha to tag along, too, because she needs one. We’ll leave at nine o’clock tomorrow.’
Maltor and I murmured in agreement. Henry then disappeared in that familiar whirl of grey, and it was just Maltor, Quinn, and I left with Grandad. Grandad just nodded slightly, and then took the lift upstairs, to whichever floor he lived on.
‘I’m going to my room,’ Quinn said gloomily. ‘Don’t think about following me.’
He took the stairs up.
Maltor and I just stared at each other. The look in his eyes said it all. He was worried for Quinn, worried for me, worried for himself.
‘Do you think this is it?’ he said quietly. ‘Do you think we’ve finally found our place?’
‘I hope so,’ I replied, just as quiet. A woman was sitting at the counter on the other side of the room, and I was praying that she couldn’t hear us.
‘After all that stuff we went through, those seven years, do you reckon it was all worth it for this?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I said without hesitation. ‘If you’re asking if I’d do it all again just to get to this point, then hands down no. I’d have preferred it if The School just left us alone, even if it meant I would’ve died.’
‘I reckon it was worth it, you know,’ he said, avoiding my eyes. ‘Because of our enhancements and stuff, and the fact that you’re alive, there’s actually hope for us to win this thing.’
He made a good point, but I still wouldn’t have done it again.
‘Oh, speaking of that,’ Maltor said brightly, ‘I have something for you, follow me.’
The two of us entered the lift together, and we ascended in complete silence. Maltor was seemingly bouncing on his heels with excitement. I kept glancing at him sideways, but he seemed to be ignoring me. Whether on purpose or not, I couldn’t tell.
When we finally got to our floor, Maltor ran as fast as he could to his door. He hurriedly unlocked it and the two of us stepped inside. The layout was pretty much the exact same as mine and Asbel’s. He shoved me onto the sofa and ran into the bedroom. I heard a drawer open and then Maltor re-emerged.
My heart stopped. Maltor stepped into the living room holding a weapon. My weapon. The weapon I had used to escape The School nearly four years ago. The blade was about one metre long and was made from iron or some other white metal. The grip, crossguard, and pommel were all made of strange blue-dyed leather. It looked like a pretty basic weapon, but I had a sentimental attachment to it.
‘W-Where did you get that?’ I seemed to be shaking slightly.
‘You dropped it before you flew away,’ Maltor said, trying his hardest not to sound spiteful. ‘Once I cleaned up I grabbed it and flew in the same direction.’
‘I didn’t want to leave you-’ I said immediately. ‘You-’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said, his brow slightly furrowing. ‘I know, I made you fly away, but it’s here.’
He tossed the sword to me like it was nothing. I caught it effortlessly in my left hand. I felt the memories return to me, it was like stepping four years back in time.
***
The date was Saturday, 16th April 2016. Heavy rain fell from the sky outside of The School. The room we were situated in was purely white, like an asylum. I gazed through the bars of my cages and whispered Maltor’s name. He had to wake up. It was now or never.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared back at me through the bars of his cage. The bars were so perfectly spread apart that they looked big enough for me or Maltor to fit through, but we couldn’t. No matter how hard we tried. There was no escaping this place.
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‘Is this it? Is it time?’ he said wearily.
I nodded slowly. ‘Do your thing.’
Maltor closed his eyes and a deep look of concentration washed over his face. The bars of his cage slowly bent outwards. This process took well over ten minutes. It was well past 4:15 when he was finished.
‘I-I can’t do it to yours too, we’d be caught before I even mustered the energy,’ he said faintly.
‘It’s fine, but step back, and cover your ears,’ I said.
I tightened my gut and slightly widened my eyes. I knew exactly what I wanted to happen, but I hadn’t practised it enough. How could I practise setting things alight in a prison?
Within a second, my entire cage was burning. Flames surrounded me, and I realised that we had indeed not thought this through. Setting the cage on fire had seemed like the obvious thing to do until the two of us realised I could not get out.
‘Dammit!’ I shouted as the fire alarms began to blare.
I knew that the ‘mirror’ along the wall in front of me was a one-way mirror, so someone was definitely watching us. They knew that this was our escape. After seven long years of seemingly endless torture, Maltor and I had had enough.
A piece from the top of the cage fell in. I leapt out of the way, which was a mistake. The cage was too small to dodge this piece of roof, so I fell straight onto one of the burning bars.
I screamed a word that I cannot repeat and then jumped upwards through the hole in the top. Landing expertly on my feet, I helped Maltor to his, and we looked at each other. Sheer determination filled his small blue eyes.
‘This is it,’ I said sternly. ‘These seven years have led up to this, huh?’
‘No more Erasers,’ he replied.
‘No more useless torture.’
‘No more DNA-grafting.’
That’s when the doors burst open. A dozen Erasers flooded the room. Erasers were another animal-human hybrid. Whilst Maltor and I had had bird DNA grafted into our own, Erasers were humans that had had wolf DNA implanted in them.
They ranged everywhere from five-foot-five to six-foot-two in height. Erasers looked exactly like one would expect a werewolf to look like, but about twice as muscular, and thrice as deadly.
‘Bring it on, cowards!’ Maltor shouted, charging at one of them.
He ploughed his fist into the side of one of their elongated jaws, forcing them back two steps. Pure rage ignited his eyes. He used every part of his body he could. He punched, kicked, headbutted, kneed, elbowed, anything you can imagine, he did to hurt them.
‘You won’t get us this time!’ I screamed, joining in.
I let out a battle cry of sorts and ran at full force towards the largest Eraser. It swung a gigantic paw down towards my head, and I dodged to the right…straight into the paws of another Eraser.
‘Hello!’ it said in a terrifyingly gruff voice.
Then Maltor punched it in the side of the throat with enough force for it to drop me. But I landed on my feet and hurled a barrage of punches toward the largest Eraser. My hands pummelled into its huge chest at horrifying speeds. Every time it swung one of its stupid big paws towards me I was a second faster.
Erasers had been designed to be brutes; slow yet powerful. They were one of the first experiments that The School came up with. Compared to them, Maltor and I were perfect. We were fast and just as deadly. And, of course, we could fly.
It didn’t seem to take long to finish the Erasers off, after all, Maltor and I were excellent fighters. Almost too excellent for our own good, if that was possible.
I could hear the Whitecoats running up the corridor so I grabbed Maltor’s arm and leapt behind one of the limp Erasers. I had a strange ability to travel through shadows. It used a lot of energy, but I just about managed to use the Eraser’s shadow to transport me and Maltor to the weapon room down the corridor.
The room was dark, eerily so, and Maltor and I grabbed the first weapons we could get our hands on. Maltor picked up two matching swords. The blades were each about a metre long and were made of jet black metal.
The two weapons I managed to pick up were the knife that wouldn’t ever leave my side, and a white-bladed sword. I held the sword in my left hand and the knife in my right because it just felt like the correct way to wield them.
The two of us broke open the door into the corridor. Looking left I saw a crowd of puzzled Whitecoats standing at the entrance to our lab room. And that’s when I made a horrible decision. I charged straight at the crowd of Whitecoats and dug my sword deep into one of their backs.
His lab coat became soaked with his crimson blood. It slowly dripped onto the floor, as his fellow Whitecoats turned slowly in shock. I yanked the blade out from his body, and he dropped to his knees. He coughed some blood, with splattered dirtily on the floor in front of him, before he finally fell, lifeless.
Killing Erasers was nothing new to me, it didn’t even faze me. But they were almost in constant pain, death was a reward for the likes of them. But another human? I felt sick as I watched the pool of blood around the Whitecoat endlessly grow larger.
‘Albert! Duck!’ Maltor shouted from behind me.
Wordlessly, I followed his command. One of his swords sailed over my head and hit another Whitecoat, who happened to be raising a knife to me, square in the chest. Maltor and I were good like that, we could trust each other. We knew that whatever the other said was the best for ourselves.
Maltor darted over and snatched the sword from the Whitecoat’s chest, smirking at me as he did so.
‘This is really it, huh?’ he grunted as he slashed his swords across another Whitecoat’s stomach.
‘No turning back now,’ I replied, slashing my knife across someone’s neck.
I winced every time I used one of my weapons. Yes, these people had held Maltor, Abbie, and I captive for the past seven years, but something felt wrong about killing another human. It felt like I was killing a part of myself.
However, pure rage seemingly blocked all other emotions. Without me even trying, flames danced up the body of the sword in my left hand. Maltor and I were unfazed, you sort of get used to strange things happening after you get your DNA mixed with.
I left a trail of flames in the wake of my sword. My eyes were wide and unblinking. Various emotions swirled around my head; I felt simultaneously overcome with rage, grief, fear, and joy as I hacked and slashed through the crowd of Whitecoats.
I heard a gasp to my left and turned to see Maltor fending off two Whitecoats. He had his sword pressed against one of their knives, in a sort of stalemate, yet one had snuck up behind him and stabbed him in the small of his back.
‘You ba-’ I began to yell before the exact same thing happened to me. Pain soared through my body, and I did my hardest to ignore it.
Pulling my body forward through immense effort, I seemed to slide off of the blade. I slashed my sword behind me, feeling it connect with the familiar toughness of a human body. Without hesitation, I charged forwards toward Maltor, slitting the throat of the Whitecoat that had stabbed him.
The flames on my sword were still burning strong, yet they were seemingly growing fainter with each passing moment.
We cleared the crowd of Whitecoats, and Maltor began to run down the corridor, but he stopped upon realising that I wasn’t following him. Alarms were still blaring at deafening volumes, and my ears were beginning to hurt.
I stared down at the limp bodies of the Whitecoats that now lay at my feet. My arms were trembling, but I wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or regret. There was no taking back what we just did. We just took human lives and lots of them. Even the Erasers were human if you didn’t think about it too hard. Blood spread around my feet, painting my worn-down shoes a horrible mix of black and red.
‘Come on!’ Maltor shouted to me. ‘Now or never, right? No going back now!’
I slowly began to follow him, my feet splashing in the thick pool of blood as I went. ‘Hm, no going back, right. We can never take that back.’
Maltor scoffed. ‘Seven years, Albert! Seven years of torture! They deserve this!’
During the whole planning stage of this escape, I thought that I would have been fine with killing a few Whitecoats to escape, but now that it was actually happening, it felt very wrong.
He grabbed my arm, and the two of us effortlessly navigated the corridors, slaughtering three more Whitecoats that foolishly tried to stop us.
‘Maltor…are you…enjoying this?’ I said, almost appalled as we turned onto the last corridor.
‘Why wouldn’t I b- HOLY SH-’
The corridor was absolutely swarmed with enemies. At least two dozen armed Whitecoats stood scattered around, and there was a pack of at least ten Erasers.
A bullet. A single bullet. It whizzed through the air toward me and Maltor, and flames grew from the ground a foot in front of us. They swallowed the bullet, acting almost like a shield, before disappearing without a trace.
‘Now!’ Maltor shrieked, taking advantage of the disarray this caused.
Together we charged toward our opponents, hacking and slashing through them, acting as though they were no more than flies. My arms were almost blurred as I tore through them all.
But it was getting harder to fend off the Eraser paws and the Whitecoat knives due to the thick tears that now swarmed my vision. Why? I thought to myself. Why am I crying? At a time like this? They deserve this. They all do.
A bullet pierced through my stomach. I cried out in pain as thick crimson blood soaked through my thin white shirt. It took an effort to tell myself to keep going, I felt mentally drained. I just felt like I couldn’t do anything, like anything I could do would ultimately be useless.
I ground my teeth together. I wouldn’t show weakness, not here, not now, not ever. I drove my sword into the throat of the closest Eraser and darted towards the Whitecoat that had shot me. He shakily aimed his gun at me. But he hesitated.
My knife dug into his throat. He coughed some blood onto my face, making me grimace. I roared in anger, forcing my knife all the way in. It was so deep I could see the blade poking out of the right side of his neck.
‘Sorry,’ someone whispered. The scary bit was that I didn’t know whether it was him or I that had said it.
But he had hesitated. That made him miles more human than I’d ever be. Steam poured from my wound, and I felt my energy draining into the process of healing myself.
‘Albert!’ I heard Maltor yelp. ‘Some help, if you wouldn’t mind!’
I didn’t even look to see where he was, it was like I knew. Something dripped down my cheek and off of my chin. I didn’t want to know whether it was a tear or the Whitecoat’s blood.
Trying my hardest to remain unfazed, I stabbed one of the three Erasers attacking Maltor in the jaw. It howled in pain, and I swung my sword around and caught its back. Another howl of pain. I jabbed it in the back of the head with my knife. The howling stopped.
The remaining Erasers turned to face me. I gestured to Maltor for him to fight someone else; I had this in the bag.
‘Not so tough now that I have weapons, huh?’ I smirked. ‘This is your turf and you’re losing, you’re pathetic.’
‘You’re the pathetic one, thinking we’ve lost,’ one of them growled in a rough voice. ‘How can we, the superior fusion, lose to the likes of you, a bird kid?’
Bang. Another bullet blasted through my left shoulder. I ignored the pain as more blood began to coat my body. Steam was now seemingly coming out of every part of my body. Just get out alive, I told myself.
The Eraser that had remained silent swung a gigantic paw down towards my head. I sliced the paw off. It may have looked effortless on the outside, but on the inside, I wanted nothing more than to put the paw back.
The Eraser howled in pain. ‘Wanna take off hands, yeah? How about I-’
Flames expanded from my chest. They were in a grid pattern, almost like an expanding dome cage. Even I jumped back. It was like the fire had spawned from my fear. I didn’t want it to happen.
‘Jesus, what are you doing?’ Maltor yelled, diving through one of the few gaps in the flaming dome.
‘I didn’t mean to!’ I shouted back, and the flames disappeared.
My legs were shaking, and I didn’t know how much longer I could stand. My mind and body were giving in. However, whatever it was I had just done had cleared the rest of the enemies.
‘Quick!’ Maltor roared, pointing towards the door. ‘Now is our only chance!’
The two of us ran as fast as we could, ploughing through the doors as one.
The sky was jet black. Rain poured down on us with such force it hurt. Every drop felt like a brick. I was certain I heard thunder, but I may have been seeing things. My head was throbbing.
Maltor and I stared into the sky. We both knew what came next, but whether we were ready or not was the question. The past seven years had led up to this one moment. The moment we’d both dreamt of since the day we got here.
‘U-up, up and away, yeah?’ I said, cursing myself for choking.
It may have been a blessing to escape from such a place, but the two of us had no idea what would happen once we got to wherever it was we were going. We had not thought it through at all.
‘Yeah,’ Maltor said, also sounding like he was trying not to get emotional. ‘Up, up and away.’
‘Crazy, huh?’ I murmured, just loud enough for him to hear me over the downpour of rain. ‘That we’re actually here?’
‘Yeah,’ he spoke equally as quiet. ‘I don’t even know if we can fly through this.’
‘No going back now,’ I said sternly.
‘Yeah, here we go.’
The two of us began to unfold our wings when another gunshot rang through the air. A bullet scraped Maltor’s right shoulder.
‘There they are!’ someone shouted. ‘Get them!’
Maltor turned, his eyes full of hatred. Yellow lightning began to crackle all over his body. He was shaking with pure rage. His teeth were clenched together tightly. All of this along with the rain and lightning made him look like a villain.
‘I’ll kill you all!’ he roared. ‘I won’t leave a single one of you power-hungry monsters alive!’
I also turned, feeling my anger rising. I tried to channel The Power, but I didn’t feel like I had the energy. Even biting my lip did nothing.
‘No! Go!’ Maltor shouted, the yellow lightning now lighting a twenty-foot circle around us.
‘No way in hell am I leaving you here!’ I screamed. ‘No chance are you fighting them off alone! We’re in this together, right? We always have been and always will be!’
Maltor’s eyes softened, just barely. Then he crouched and touched a specific point on my left calf. The two of us had ‘Instinct Points’. I do not know how The School managed to give us them, but we had them. When our Instinct Points were activated, it was like our brains shut off. We ignored whatever our morals were telling us to do. We did whatever our instincts said. Whatever would save us.
I didn’t want to do it, I promise. It was all a blur. I really did want to stay back and fight alongside him. It was the thing I wanted to do most. I didn’t know he’d touch my calf, it hadn’t been part of the plan. We were supposed to leave together.
All I felt was his hand swiftly making contact with my Instinct Point, and then the next thing I knew I was flying in the rain some fifty metres up. It was all a blur, I didn’t want to fly away.
I turned back to view the scene below me. Rain battered me from all sides, making it very difficult to stay up. Yellow lightning crashed down from the sky, striking somewhere near the exit of The School. I heard an unearthly roar and hazily saw Maltor activating his Power. I could just about make out him swatting the Whitecoats away like bugs, crushing them beneath his huge hands.
And I didn’t see him again for over three years.
***
‘I didn’t want to leave you that night, you do know that right?’ I said apologetically.
‘Didn’t I just say that I know it’s my fault?’ he said almost scornfully. ‘We both got out, so that’s all that matters. Even if I had to use my Power.’
I also remembered that the two of us vowed never to use our Powers. They were too dangerous.
‘We killed people that day, Maltor,’ I murmured.
‘It was kill or be killed in that place,’ he scoffed. ‘They deserved everything they got.’
‘Thanks for the sword,’ I tried.
‘Serves as a reminder, right? Of what we did. Of what we fought for. Freedom, right? That’s why we did what we did. Freedom.’
‘Yeah,’ I mumbled. ‘I wouldn’t go back there if I were paid all the money in the world.’
Maltor walked over and stood in front of me. He loomed over me, a dark look cast over his face.
‘We killed people, so what? It was for our freedom. If we didn’t do what we did that night we wouldn’t be standing here today,’ he said in an eerily quiet voice. ‘Don’t you think, Albert?’
I shivered. Standing up so that we were equal in height, I stared Maltor dead in the eye.
‘I understand, but you’ll have to forgive me if murder isn’t exactly one of my favourite pastimes.’
He squinted at me. ‘Take the sword. Should help with this whole thing.’
‘Yeah, thanks,’ I said, squinting back.
I left the room after that. When I shut the door behind me, I was certain that I heard the familiar thump of someone leaning against the door. And the usual sliding sound that followed.
Once back in my room, I hurled the sword onto the floor in front of the sofa, shaking. I couldn’t take it. Killing people then had been an issue, so if I were forced to kill people again, there was simply no chance that I would be able to live with myself.
I felt like I had to vomit. I clenched my teeth and fought back tears for the umpteenth time this week. My body was still shaking horribly. I was a murderer, wasn’t I? I may have been quick to put my knife to that woman’s throat, but there was no way I would have actually killed her. No way.
‘Those memories…I can’t do it…’ I whispered to myself, falling to my knees. ‘Killing someone else…another human…that’s not who I am…’
Now on all fours, I clutched and scratched at the carpet as though that would help. Help change the things I’d done. The things I was going to do. Mentally drained, I began to choke back sobs. I didn’t know how thin the walls were here, and there was no chance I would let anyone even notice a trace of me crying.
Tears slowly fell onto the carpet, leaving sporadic wet patches. My whole body was still shaking. I had a lot going for me, so why on Earth was I crying? I’d just found my Grandad, for the Gods’ sakes! I finally felt like I could somewhat fit in, I was finally making new friends, so why did I feel so terrible?
I let out a small yelp of anguish. ‘It’ll all be fine in the morning like nothing ever happened. I’ll f-forget it all. It will be a good day.’
Tears still fell down my face.
‘I’m a tough kid, killing someone is no problem. I’ll do it. Amy won’t ever see the light of day again when I’m done with her.’
So why did it feel so wrong? I was almost heaving with sobs, and over what? A stupid memory? I wanted to hit myself. I wanted to cause myself as much pain as possible, in some desperate hope that it would fix everything.
I let out another small yelp. No, I couldn’t do it. Another tear dropped to the carpet.