Page 25 of Deadly Little Games

The familiar wooden door stares back at me with an old eviction notice plastered across the center. I swallow down the bile at the base of my throat, suppressing all the memories from that evening along with it. I shouldn’t have come here, but fate has a funny way of forcing you to confront your choices. Laughing at you uncontrollably until it turns into something much more sinister.

Throughout my life, I’ve always maintained a safe distance from others, never allowing anyone to get too close or evoke any emotions within me. Ever since my father began training me, I’ve become nothing more than an empty shell. A perfectly groomed member of The Brotherhood. He had a firm belief that emotions were a vulnerability that should be avoided. They would only ever kill you.

He’s right. Feelings are the crux of all evil.

Before I can stop myself, I kick the door open and step into the house. Everything’s gone, ruined, and damaged. The only thing that remains is the empty shell of what used to be a home. I make my way down the hallway and into a room.

The piercing sound of her cries reverberates in my head, haunting me. I stumble backward, hitting the wall, and everything around me disappears...

We arrive at the next house, and it’s a red brick one with a tiny wire fence. Lucas and Gage sit quietly next to my ten-year-old self, watching my father with a mixture of fear and admiration. As he turns around in the front seat of the car, his gaze sweeps over all of us.

“Just like I told you. We go in and get them out. If they don’t come willingly, we use force. Follow my every order. Got it?” he asks, passing me a gun, then arming the others.

The coolness of the metal against my skin sends a shiver down my spine as I firmly grasp the weapon, my fingers stretching to the other side. I’ve been using one ever since I turned six, and now, four years later, we finally have the opportunity to use it outside of training for the first time. My palms begin to sweat. I don’t know if I can do this for real. Gage’s hand gently rests on my knee, and as I look up, he nods in reassurance, silently conveying that we are in this together. No matter what happens, we will always have each other’s backs. For better or worse.

My father gets out of the car, and Lucas opens his door and I follow him out. Met with a gust of cool winter air, I instinctively lower my beanie to shield my ears from the cold. With the Glock held firmly in my hand, I trail behind my father, the sound of our footsteps echoing against the gravel road, accompanied by the soft shuffling of Gage and Lucas behind me.

With a loud squeal, the wire gate gives way as it is pushed open, revealing a chaotic scene of scattered toys and play equipment on the front lawn. As we walk through, the long grass brushes against my legs, tickling them gently. Just outside the front door, we come to a halt. The wood bears themark of an ancient eviction notice. Why didn’t they listen and move out? That would have been easier than us having to come and force them out. Wouldn’t it? I don’t understand but father always says we come by force. That no one will ever listen to us unless we show them who’s in charge. Words don’t matter, only violence. I have no choice but to trust him.

His boot connects with the front door, causing it to swing open violently and collide with the wall, producing a resounding bang. Echoes of screams fill the home. As adrenaline courses through my veins, my heart accelerates, thumping loudly in my chest. I move into the house, and it’s dark and cold. A little girl around our age lets out an ear-piercing scream that reverberates through the air. A fleeting shadow darts past us, dragging a young boy through the living room and disappearing from view.

“Get them,” my father yells. Slumped over the couch, the man—who I assume to be the girl’s father—remains completely still.

Gage’s grip tightens on my arm, urgently pulling me toward the room where the girl and boy vanished.

As I forcefully wrench my arm away from Gage’s grip, my fingers instinctively clench around the gun, pointing it forward.

“Fucking gross. How could someone live like this?” Lucas swears and kicks an empty bottle behind me. It flies past me, smashing into the wall and into a million pieces. I roll my eyes. Spoiled little brat, he is, but he isn’t wrong. This place is disgusting. With a shake of my head, I carry on walking, feeling the weight of each step.

The dim illumination from the streetlights outside offers us a slight glimpse of our surroundings. Following the cries of the little girl, Gage leads us down a narrow hallway to a small room with a bed in the corner. The girl shoves her littlebrother into the tiny closet and closes the door, causing my palms to become sweaty. Despite the tremors running through her body, she stands resolute, unwavering in her commitment to protect her brother above all else. My chest tightens and I can’t move. Sweat drips down the back of my neck, Gage steps forward, gun raised, aiming it at her chest.

Acting on instinct, I quickly position myself in front of him as a barrier to protect her. Gage’s expression turns sour as he slightly lowers his gun.

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

“She’s just a kid. We can’t,” I plea, looking into his eyes. Glancing around nervously, he swallows hard, his eyes darting between me and her before he finally lowers his gun.

“I agree, this isn’t okay,” Lucas says, coming to stand next to Gage.

With each creak of the floorboards, my father’s presence fills the room. With his eyes darkening, he forcefully grabs the back of my neck and swiftly turns me around, making me face the girl. He places his hands over mine, covering the gun. My body starts to tremble.

“No, I can’t,” I cry, but he doesn’t listen. He aims the gun right between her eyes.

“You can and you will—or you’ll be next,” he breathes into my ear and pulls the trigger.

Her screams pierce my ears until they feel like they are bleeding. Make it stop. Make it go away. As my body trembles, voices fade in and out. In and out. My fingers dig into my scalp as if trying to escape the chaos inside my mind. She’s dead because of me. I couldn’t save her. I can’t save anyone.

The touch of soft hands on mine sends a jolt through my body.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.” A voice cracks through the smoke and the ringing stops.

Coming back into the room, I blink slowly and adjust to the soft lighting. She stares back at me. As though she’s looking right into my soul. She isn’t afraid of me, which confuses me. Everyone is and should be.

Looking back, I can see now why Dad took us there. That killing was grunt work—something he’d normally pay someone else to do.

That was my training—our initiation into The Brotherhood.

Ever since that day, I became what my father wanted all along. A monster. A killer. Who didn’t think twice about it. Who didn’t have a conscience. Until today. Being back here has triggered something within me, something I spent so long burying.

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