Page 138 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

One of the most important words in this world.

For some, it means love and warmth, laughter and happiness, acceptance and peace.

For some, rejection and pain, longing and anger, confusion and the desire to please.

In my life, it only meant betrayal, though, since my adoptive mother treated me like shit and my birth mom didn’t protect me from her father’s fury.”

Remi

Remi, 18 years old

George pulls the car up by Octavius’s mansion, and Florian flies outside, a phone still pressed to his ear. He has been calling him relentlessly the whole twenty-minute drive here.

Santiago and I follow as he tells the driver, “You can go home, George. We’ll study here.”

He nods; we know he will keep his mouth shut no matter what happens. He’s known us all since we were small, after all.

“Fucking pick up!” Florian exclaims, and we race toward the front door that’s slightly ajar. Surprisingly, Antonio, the house butler, is not rushing outside to greet us.

Fear envelops me as this signifies something is indeed wrong, and when we start going up the stairs, we hear rock music blasting from speakers, rattling the walls. Exchanging looks, we speed up. Florian barges in with us bumping into his back.

Darkness welcomes us along with the smell of alcohol saturating the air. Florian flicks on the light, and the usual squeaky-clean house comes into view. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Well, besides the rock music that becomes louder the farther we get inside, music that’s forbidden in this house, because Octavius’s stepfather orders everyone to listen only to classical.

“Maybe we overreacted. Maybe he’s not home yet.” I break the silence, although I don’t sound convinced even to my own ears, glancing inside the living room. “Is anybody here?” No one answers though, which in normal circumstances wouldn’t have been so surprising, since the household only has Antonio, a driver, and two maids, because his parents believe in a minimalistic approach in life.

His stepfather even refuses to have security watch his property, and the iron gates have a special code that allows you to get inside.

Florian is one of the few who knows it.

However, right now when the music is blasting so loud in the emptiness, the silence is strange and alarming.

Octavius prefers to stay in silence as screams are all he has known. He sometimes even wears headphones so people won’t talk to him.

Florian pushes Santiago to the side and then darts to the second floor, his boots thumping loudly on the marble, and we trail after him as the music becomes louder and louder, coming from the direction of the master bedroom.

This time, though, another sound joins it, a loud whimper followed by a cry of pain overshadowing the music.

Fuck!

The stepfather decided to indulge in punishment after all. That’s why he probably sent the staff away. While he doesn’t mind torturing Octavius in front of everyone, he prefers to be alone in order to deliver his most horrible blows.

As if the scar on his cheek hasn't been enough to serve as a permanent reminder of his hatred toward him.

“That fucking asshole!” Florian mutters, kicking the door open. We run inside, only to stop dead in our tracks when we see what’s really going on.

Mr. Reed is on the bed, thrashing while whimpering something incoherently. Or tries to at least. Octavius clamps his mouth with his hand while his other holds a knife he is stabbing his stepfather with, over and over again. His clothes and the white bedsheets are soaked in blood.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Octavius screams, raising his hand and stabbing him again. The sight of it finally snaps us from our shock.

“Octavius, no. Stop!” Florian lunges for him first, yelling, “Stop!” He tries to catch his elbow, but Octavius pushes him to the side, and Florian loses his balance, dropping on his ass by the bed and groaning.

I rush in next, wrap my arms around Octavius’s shoulders, and pull him back, trying to separate the bloody bodies, which only results in Octavius spinning around still kneeling above his stepfather. He swings the knife at me, slicing my arm. I hiss at the fucking sting as I jump to the side and join Florian on the floor.

What the fuck’s gotten into him? He must be in shock; he’d never treat us like this otherwise.

Octavius goes back to stabbing his stepfather over and over again, continuing to chant, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

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