Page 113 of Twisted Heathens
“Ow! Dammit, this asshole’s tripping. You stupid fuck.”
Surrounded again, I blink through blood as they pull my leg at an odd angle, yanking it just right. Something snaps, bone splintering and sending a wave of nausea through me. But still I don’t make a sound. Even as they break my fucking leg and any remaining air escapes my lungs. He trained me well; quiet is good. Holy. Pure.
“Stay down or we’ll break the other one too.”
Forcing my eyes open, I catch sight of Rio standing behind his thugs, watching with amusement. Forever the ringleader, protected by his privilege. He epitomises the evil at Blackwood’s centre.
Taking a final boot to my ribs, I curl inwards like a child, finally sated as the tsunami of pain overwhelms my bloodied body. At last, relief comes. Like a trained lab rat, I’m addicted to the pain. My attackers laugh at me and walk away without a second glance.
I’m ashamed to call you my son, Elijah.
You got the devil inside.
But don’t worry, I’ll get it out.
Let’s call it a baptism of fire, eh kid?
I stare up at the angry sky as my consciousness finally fades, along with the constant whisper of nightmares in my head. No one’s looking for me or even cares. Not really. I’m expendable. I’m fucking thankful because all I want is to lay here, broken and beaten, until my sorry ass is finally permitted to leave this world behind.
Some people leave empty spaces where they used to be. I’m already empty. I don’t exist.
The rain pours, heavy clouds thundering down on my broken body; the falling droplets slowly turning red around me. A halo of death encircles my desecrated remains.
Thirty-Seven
Phoenix
Blood Sport by Sleep Token
The sound of buzzing and voices rouses me, uncomfortable pain immediately rising to the surface. I stretch out, limbs stiff from spending the night curled up in the medical wing’s shitty waiting area. The others look equally exhausted, Kade resting in an armchair and Hudson’s towering frame stretched out across several chairs.
I’m so fucking angry I could kill with my bare hands.
Whoever attacked Eli yesterday… they left him there to die. Alone, beaten within an inch of his life, his fucking leg broken. It wasn’t until the afternoon gym class came out that he was discovered. Just thinking about him lying there, completely abandoned by the world, makes me long to strike a match and burn this entire institute to the ground.
I’ll find out who did it.
Then I’ll fucking kill them for it. Slowly.
“Shit…” Kade curses, stretching his arms high. “Anything?”
I shake my head, staring down the corridor where the treatment rooms lie beyond. “Nothing. What’s taking so long? Why won’t they let us in?”
“Standard procedure,” Kade growls, rushing to his feet. “Even though I’m his emergency contact, they still wouldn’t let me in yesterday. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
He swiftly kicks a chair with uncharacteristic anger, the loud bang waking Hudson up.
“You’re his emergency contact?” I frown.
Kade collapses back into the armchair and shrugs, staring up at the white ceiling. “He doesn’t have anyone else. We’re it. I put my name down the day we took him in.”
If there’s one thing about Kade that I admire most, it’s his determination to fix the entire goddamn world. And I tell you what, it’s going to be the death of him one day.
“Just calm down, they’ll let us in eventually,” Hudson states groggily.
Kade glares at him. “Don’t tell me to calm down. I’m done being the calm one.”
Things are definitely fucked if Hudson is the voice of reason. We each fall silent, sitting in this damned empty hallway that smells of bleach and cleaning products. Kade’s head falls in his hands and Hudson slowly wakes up, groaning about his aches and pains.
