Page 2 of Chad's Chase
A boy whom he grew up with. A boy whom he called ‘brother’. A boy who sat at the Byrds’ dinner table every night, whom they shared their home and lives with. A boy whom they all loved and treated like their own blood.
Chadrick. Niiveux.
As the betrayer gracefully attached a suppressor to his weapon, all false hopes dissipated, as it was clear Chadrick was not there to save them.
Hope was wasted on him. Because the evil they needed savingfromwas him. He wasn’t the savior of this night’s dark tale, he was the soulless villain.
Chadrick’s attention went to his wide-eyed, mouth-hanging little sister, and there was no emotion in him as he gestured to her and, in Russian tongue, ordered the henchman looming over Ricardo, “You, subdue her. Take her to her room and keep her there.”
When the henchman non-hesitantly did as he was ordered, dragging his wailing and flailing little sister down the hall until her screams of “Blood! No! Please, Blood! No!” were no more, Chadrick moved as calmly and quietly as a panther over to Mom and Dad.
Dad, bound and shaking, angled his head to look up at him. “Why—why are you doing this, Chadrick? We treated you like our own. We love yo—”
Dad’s word cut short as Chadrick aimed at his head and fired. As smooth and easy as honey overflowing from a spoon.
Stepping over Dad’s lifeless body, he crouched down next to Mom, who was still acceptingly quiet, and whispered something lengthy in her ear, then positioned the gun directly into the shell of her ear, and fired.
Dead.
This could not be happening.
By this time, Ricardo was full-on shaking, throwing dices with fear.
Like an incontestable king creature, Chadrick rose up from his crouch and walked over to him, his feet making no sound whatsoever on the floor tiles. He didn’t even seem real, or tangible, but like a black, evil spirit moving on thin air.
As Chadrick stooped down next to him, Ricardo stared up into his frenemy’s endless dark eyes, silently asking ‘why?’.
But this man was a total stranger. Not the ‘brother’ he knew and loved. Not the best friend he played video games with only hours ago. Not even an iota. His eyes were nothing but infinite nights filled with terror. His face a steel wall—straight, blank, inanimate, inhumane.
Knowing it was his turn to be executed, but not knowing what awaited him on the darker side, Ricardo began trembling violently as Chad raised his free hand and touched the side of his face, whispering, “Don’t be afraid, Ricardo. Trust that you are my brother, and I love you as such.”
The hand on Ricardo’s cheek moved slightly, and he felt the coldness of Chadrick’s silver ring on his skin, and, with a more subtle move, felt something puncturing the soft flesh of his cheek.
Chadrick kept his hand on his face for a while, and when Ricardo’s vision began to blur, he stood up.
Ricardo got swept up into vertigo, consciousness slipping in and out.
But it wasn’t enough to blot out the reality of Chadrick standing above him, three-headed, then two-headed, then three-headed again.
Consciousness there, consciousness gone. Consciousness back just in time to see Chadrick aim the suppressed weapon at him, and fire.
