I still remember the feeling of warmth leaking down my fingers, staining the floor crimson.
A face scrunched up in pain, mouth quivering as several shrill shrieks leapt out of their mouth.
A pair of hazel orbs frantically moving about, attempting to piece together what had just occurred before landing upon my face, pupils dilating ever so slightly.
Two hands which clung to a serrated knife, which now sat deeply embedded into their torso, frantically attempting to stop the blade from being pushed in further.
Red encasing my vision as a raw voice, which I couldn’t even recognise as my own, bellowed out from my throat.
A shallow inhale of air followed by their hands sombrely falling to their sides, countenance dimming as their body heavily hung upon the blade.
Silence filling the room, broken apart by my erratic breathing. Knife escaping out of my loosened grip, the fresh corpse falling to the floor.
“That’s it?”
Brown hair had been scattered across a concrete floor, slowly becoming contaminated by a filthy red liquid.
Peering down at my red palms, a groan escaped my lips. I hadn’t noticed how hard I had been gripping the knife at the time.
“That’s… It?”
Unconsciously clenching my teeth together, my foot fell heavy upon the small girl who lay still before me.
Thud! Crack! Thud!
“Entertain me more! COME ON! MOVE! SQUIRM!” a raspy voice screeched out, queer snaps consuming their mind, actions growing more brutal after each second the corpse stayed quiet.
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When I’d regained my…focus… what greeted me was a wave of pain stemming from my feet.
Below me laid a pile of meat, scarlet covering half the room. An arm stuck out of the pile, broken in several places as it limply sat atop the red mess.
Two white orbs had been scattered across the room; pink matter mixed within the mound as I attempted to regain my breath.
A high-pitched chuckle erupted from my mouth which had contorted into a wide grin, arms spread out, taking in the sigh laid before me.
“Ah… How wonderful… Aren’t you happy… To finally have been of some use in this world…”
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Winter had always been my favourite season. A deep navy devouring the sky as icy winds indiscriminately slashing at anyone who was unlucky enough to have been caught its path.
Wrapped up in warm leather jacket, I followed two taller figures as they led the way forward.
Apparently, we were going to a family get-together, although my parents didn’t seem so happy about it, bickering back and forth in the car about something.
I liked my uncles and aunties, but mum always bad-mouthed them when dad was away on one of his frequent business trips.
She would always unconsciously bite her bottom lip when she was talking about something she really disliked, having to reapply a deep layer of rouge lipstick that she always wore.
“Those ungrateful leaches! Always trying to get their hands on what is rightfully ours!” she would resentfully cry out, tightly gripping anything nearby in order to release her stress.
I didn’t like it when dad went away. He would always say that it was for his work, but surely, he shouldn’t be working that much? He must be a very important man.
Following behind the two figures, I abruptly stopped before a dark alley. A series of whimpering having caught my attention, revealing two small children, who seemed to be about my age, huddled together due to the cold temperatures whilst dressed in very light attire.
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A cold hand harshly grasped mine as I looked up towards my furious mother.
Before I had time to think about what to say, words had already flown out my mouth.
“They must be cold… why aren’t they wearing anything warm?” I curiously enquired, my father quick to respond.
“Ignore them, Nathanial. Worthless beggars they are.” He frostily stated, dark brows furrowing in disgust as he spared the two children a short glance.
My mother’s hands pulled me forward as she started to speak, a haughty tone filling the boy’s ears.
“Those things are what make up most of the world, Nathanial dear. They leach upon those who work hard to fatten themselves, not wishing to work. Better off dead in my opinion!”.
Nathaniel’s father frowned at such a statement, realising that her statement had been another shallow jab at his brothers and sisters, causing him to allocate an admonishing look towards the older woman.
From that moment onwards, the small boy learned to see people differently. Those like him were natural born leaders, the high class.
And below that were the leeches. Those who were better off dead.
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Lower body covered in crimson, the blonde silently trudged out of the room, passing through a thick iron door into a kitchen like area. He’d had this underground area built under their house for a birthday present, his remaining parent distaining to go down there.
Turning on a tap, he scrubbed his stained hands together with some soap, futilely attempting to rid himself of his dyed fingers. He’d left it too long.
Looking upwards, Nathanial peered at the large mirror which showed his reflection.
Two hollow blue eyes bore back into him, a fuzzy black substance completely coating his body.
Like waves, the black static ebbed and flowed, sometimes consuming nearly all of his body, leaving nothing but his grinning countenance.
Behind him, three dismantled bodies hung from black nooses connected to the ceiling causing his to let out a small chortle chocked full of distain.
The corpses appeared to be stitched back together, albeit poorly. Some limbs were in the wrong places, mismatched eyeballs hanging from sockets.
The body hanging directly behind the boy seemed to be somewhat similar to the pile of meat he’d just made but seeing the other two made Nathanial reminisce.
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How would a normal boy react to having a bag be put over his head, a fist driven into his stomach and subsequently being hoisted onto the back of a bulky man?
Nathanial, age 13, had initially been grasped by fear, his new darkened surroundings cooperating with an influx of pain overloading his senses resulting in an initial bout of helplessness.
But then it subsided.
Hearing the frantic shouts of a few people as they ran away from the scene of the kidnapping into a noisy old car, the small blonde had thought at the time that they had seemed more afraid than he was at the moment.
Jostled into the middle seat of the car, a tense fifteen-minute drive ensued. The driver frantically shrieking about not wanting to get caught, mumbling under his breath about how he will “Save” someone no matter.
A man with a greasy voice who sat to the left of the boy admonished the driver, telling him to just do his job, his tone laced with disdain for the man’s behaviour.
Much to his dismay, Nathanial passed out, rendering him unable to extract anymore information from the trio’s conversations. He would have liked to see if he could have gained something hinting towards their identity or motive.
Brutally forced awake by a cold bucket of water being thrown onto him, he found himself sitting on an old wooden chair, hands tied together.
Three men stood in front of him.
The first was a tall, tanned and muscular guy. He had tattoo of a skull on his left bicep, wearing a black tank top and a pair of black jeans.
The second seemed to be a nervous wreck. He was short, wore glasses and constantly glanced at his two comrades, almost as if he was worried that they’d start attacking him at any time.
“That must be the driver.” The boy deduced, eyes curiously wondering over to the third person.
The boy’s pupils dilating in shock; eliciting a deep laugh from the third man.
Wearing a stained white tank top which could barely contain his overflowing waist, a familiar unshaved beard coupled with two dimly lit blue orbs and wheat blonde hair made Nathanial involuntarily let out a small gasp.
“Nice to see you, Thomas’s kid.” The fat man chuckled, his grainy voice flooding the boy’s ears.
The third man had instantly been recognised as one of Nathaniel’s family members by the small boy. Nathanial had seen him at a few family meetings, he was also a name which his mother often cursed at.
The small blonde kept quiet, staring at his uncle. By now, he’d pieced together what was happening.
“So kiddo, I’m gonna need you to call your pops and convey a little message for your uncle. Whaddya say, feel like helping this old fellow of yours?” he spoke, a smile covering his face as if he was asking for a small favour.
Once again, Nathanial chose to stay silent, making the man’s smile disappear after ten or so seconds had passed.
The fat man’s blue orbs tightened into a thin line as he tightly gripped his fingers into a fist.
“Those fuckin eyes of yours always pissed me off. Look’n at me as if I was trash!” he angrily spat, pausing for a moment as if he was thinking about something important before resuming his talking.
Countenance softening as if he was about to comfort the small kid, he trudged over to the boy.
“How would you like it if we were to take one of those precious orbs of ya? Eh, kiddo?”
Scrounging around in his pocket, he grabbed a medium sized pocketknife, waving it back and forth in front of Nathanial as if he were expecting the kid to burst out into a wave of tears.
Seeing a lack of reaction, he recoiled in disgust, sluggishly scampering back to a seat directly opposite the small boy as if he was already tired.
Sucking his teeth in anger, he looked over to the muscly fellow before commanding him, “Teach the little brat a lesson, will ya?”.
The tall man looked towards his employer and nodded, warming up his wrists, as he slowly stomped over to the boy.
The blonde’s sapphire orbs scaled the giant who stood before him, a confident smirk apparent upon his face, “You wouldn’t hit a ki--”.
Bam!
Cut short by a large fist connecting with his jaw, Nathanial accidentally bit his tongue as his head throttled upwards, flaring pain the only thing keeping him from fainting