Page 21 of The Devils Melody
He takes a sharp turn down an alleyway between two houses, and I nearly lose track of him. My pulse spikes, the panic finally setting in. I round the corner just in time to see him stop next to someone’s side door, his silhouette framed against the faint glow of the moonlight. He’s standing still, almost too still, like he’s expecting something—or someone.
I duck behind a garbage can, holding my breath. Kage’s eyes scan the street ahead, his gaze sweeping back and forth, every muscle in his body tight with anticipation. He knows he’s being watched, he just doesn’t care.
Then, with lightning speed, he breaks the window of the door he’s standing next to. It takes everything in me to keep quiet. I need to see this through and can’t risk Kage leaving because of me.
For a moment, everything stands still—Kage, time, my heart. But then he reaches into the window, opens the door, and slips inside.
I take a cautious step forward, then another, my feet barely making a sound. The streetlights fade behind me as I move further into the darkness, my heart pounding in mychest, the weight of whatever’s about to happen pressing down on me.
I’m too deep into this to turn back now.
I wait for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a few minutes, before finally moving. My anxiety is the worst it's ever been, my nerves amped up so high I could throw up right here in the trash. I check the street roughly twenty times before I make my way over to the same door Kage just went through.
I reach towards the handle and immediately hear a faint scuffle coming from inside. My breath catches in my throat. There’s more movement, and then a voice. It’s low and barely audible, but unmistakably Kage’s.
“Now, now Trevor. I told you to keep quiet and this would all go a lot more smoothly. But you just won't stop. You like being tortured, don’t you? Or maybe…”
A pause. “ Maybe you just liked giving me this little souvenir.”
At that very moment I hear a sick, squelching noise followed by a muffled sob.Holy fucking hell,what is happening?
I creep down the narrow hallway towards the voice, not wanting to see the scene play out, but needing to. I make it to the last door on the right, the light from the room illuminating the hallway. I try to stay undetected as I peek around the door, but luckily when Kage comes into view his back is to me.
The sight before me is one straight out of my worst nightmare.
Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of a grown man duct taped to a chair with his own blood soaked dick shoved into his mouth. There’s a pool of blood soaking the floor, the front of the man's pants torn anddripping red. Scarlet ribbons run down his chin, soaking the striped pajamas he’s wearing. It's almost as if Kage dragged the poor bastard right out of bed.
“I should thank you.” He says, “It adds character. I’m sure the ladies will love it.” He chuckles, like he’s talking about a new tattoo or something. “Now come on, Trev. You got one more chance to tell me who else you’re working with. I know you didn’t kidnap all those kids by your scrawny ass self.”
My eyes snap back to Kage and the bloody knife he’s wielding. Kage walks around Trevor, never taking his eyes off him. I move to hide myself from view and the fucking floorboards decide to turn on me for the second time tonight. There’s no mistaking the creaking noise, no mistaking the silence from the room next to me.I am absolutely fucked.
“Come on in, big brother. You’re going to miss the best part of the show.” Son. Of. A. Bitch. Kage knows I’m here. By the lack of surprise in his voice, I’d say he knew I was following him from the moment I stepped into the house. Maybe even long before that.
I try to walk into the room with an air of nonchalance, as if I belong here, but I have never been more terrified of my brother. The man in the chair starts thrashing, hoping I'm here to help save him from the hell he’s currently trapped in. My steps are slow and steady, as if any sudden motion might land me in the chair my damn self.
My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a brutal reminder of how completely out of place I am. The man looks like he’s been to hell and back, his face contorted in agony, his body jerking violently as though he might be able to escape my brother's wrath. I steal a glance towards Kage, who is now standing just behind the chair, watchingme with a strange mixture of expectation and something darker. As if he's waiting for me to break the silence.
“What’s going on here, brother? Why do you have a man taped to a chair with his dick shoved in his mouth? And what the fuck happened to your face?” I try to make light of the situation, as if this is a totally normal thing to walk in on. Walking closer to the scene, I’m careful not to step in any of the blood, and there’s a lot, still pooling around the legs of the chair. The last thing I fucking need is to be tied to this shit.
I’m standing right in front of Kage when my foot lands on something. An unsettling crinkling sound breaking the silence. I glance down, my brows furrowing in confusion. A piece of paper? I lift my foot, stomach twisting with disgust.What the actual fuck?My hand reaches for it instinctively, needing to confirm if I'm seeing this right. Unease coils in my gut, creeping up my spine. My breath quickens, each inhale jagged and shallow. My eyes scan the floor, desperate for answers, and that's when I see the rest.
Polaroids are scattered around him like broken memories, haphazardly strewn across the floor around Trevor as if someone threw them at him. Some face-up, others turned upside down, their edges curled with age or freshly snapped, as if they were taken just moments ago. Dozens, maybe hundreds, blanket the ground, each one a silent witness to something sick and twisted. A part of me screams to run, to tear myself from this place and never look back. But another, darker part forces me to stay. To see this through, no matter the cost, even if it destroys me.
I lock eyes with Kage, his gaze sharp on mine as if to say,Go ahead, brother, this will answer all your questions.I slowly pick up a couple of the photos closest to my feet. The moment I see them up close, a wave of nausea crashes overme, so violent it almost drops me to my knees. I gag, fighting to hold onto my grip on reality. My mind reels, refusing to accept the horrors laid out before me. But there's one undeniable truth; they all show different versions of the same nightmare.
Children.
Some are bound, lips split and bleeding. Some are painted in bruises and blood, their clothes torn and dirty. One little girl, she couldn’t be older than five, has dirt smeared across her face, her eyes soaked with tears.
There’s one boy whose eyes are wide with terror, his mouth held open like the picture was taken mid scream. Some pictures look like they were taken in a basement, the cold concrete floor wet and stained. The last picture I pick up looks to be twins, one girl and one boy. The girl is crying, clinging to her brother whose eyes look to be forever closed.
“Kage, what the fuck is this? Tell me what’s going on right fucking now! Who took these?” I’m screaming now, the panic clawing at my chest, suffocating me. But even as the words leave my mouth I already know the answer. The sick bastard in the chair is the culprit. My brother is a lot of things, but he’s not someone who would do this to a man just because he was bored one night.
Kage doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t even blink. His eyes are cold and unreadable, already prepared for this moment. He steps closer to the chair, and I feel the air in the room thicken, as if every breath is about to cost me. The man in the chair is still trembling, his eyes wide with terror, but there’s something resigned in the way he looks at me now; he knows this isn’t a rescue and it sure as shit isn’t going to end well for him.
Kage looks at me then, his gaze flicking over the room and the mess. I see it then, just for a split second, thedarkness in his eyes, the shadow of something even worse than I could have ever imagined. “You walked in here of your own accord, brother” he says softly, almost as though
he's trying to justify the madness around us. “Now you’re a part of it. Welcome to the game.”
