Post by Arual on Jul 16, 2010 19:32:06 GMT -5
This is a story about one of my characters that originally was a freaky ass guy that I somehow managed to hallucinate a few years ago. I finally decided how to make a "What the Hell got him THERE?!" story. Im not sure if its done or not, but here we go:
It was hot on those summer days in the Wild West of Texas. Way out in the middle of what seemed like nowhere, Troy Dillinger was playing babysitter yet again for his little sister Natalie while the family made their rounds through town buying food, medicine or whatever it was they needed.
It was boring. Terribly, terribly boring! Troy thought as he walked along side Natalie, thinking about how his friends were off playing ball or something certainly much more fun than this. Lost in thought he had continued to walk, not realizing anyone had called his name until his annoying little sister had tugged on his baggy white sleeve and screeched his name. “What?” he finally returned.
“Nothing. You almost walked inta the pole.” the high soprano voice chimed. Natalie was a precious little girl, not a fair maiden, but not terribly unfortunate. Her light brown eyes sparkled in the morning sun and the child’s long curly hair pulled away by two pale blue ribbons swayed and bounced as she took a step.
Suddenly the small hand that took his had jolted him backward. “Are you suuuuure you’re alright, brother?” Troy spun around and faced the angelic looking six year old, holding back a reddened face from anger and embarrassment. “Yes. Of course! Just….Just go to Mamma and Poppa. Imma be around.”
“Troy, you can’t leave! You know Momma ’ll be mad if ya gitup and go without me!” Natalie protested with a stomp of her little black boot. “If you’re gonna leave, I gotta come with you!”
“No, the point is to not have you around, Natalie. I don’t want to shop! I want to play ball with my friends!”
“Then I’ll ask if I can play too!” she insisted, running behind him, their parents gone in a store at the moment.
“Girls can’t play!” he retorted, trying to get her to run to their mother and father.
“Nu uh! We can too!” Natalie’s voice began to shake, and her tone began to climb to a higher octave. A tear was merely a comment away…..
A bunch of boys had come into the picture, and they were playing. Troy was cracking into tiny pieces over not being there with them. He loved his sister, but he wanted space. Was that too much to ask? He didn’t think so.
“Look, Natalie,” he said crouching down before her. “Now don’t you go cryin’ or nuthin! Dun make me feel guilty for something that wasn’t my fault! You’re meaner than me! Can‘t you just help Momma?”
The sweet little sister shook her head ‘no’ since her arms were crossed over her chest, her white hat matching her lace organza with long sleeves and ruffles at the bottom trim of the sleeves and dress. Its neckline was high with only lace, but she wore it more that because she had to, but she had worn it proudly. “Is it bad to want to be with your brother…or to want to have fun….like we used to all the time? Remember that, Troy? We had a lot of fun! If you aint gonna play with me….I thought I could play wit you!”
It hit him then, in that moment, just how neglectful he’d been to Natalie. He was twelve and a half! She was six, so how could she understand the things he did? All she wanted was her brother. That was also probably the worst guilt trip she ever gave him, telling him how bad a brother he was. He would lighten up a bit……and there’s no harm in watchin’ a game, right? “I’m sorry, Sis. Its just big kids like me need their space to do big kid things…and I want to be with my friends by myself sometimes, okay?” Troy felt bad after giving his sister an unnecessary attitude, but not for wanting to leave. He had a right to want to go off and be with his friends, right? “Come on, and if you be good like you get with Momma at home, then you can come watch the game. But you MUST sit still so I know where you are, understand?”
“Yep!” Natalie beamed, jumping to take his hand and walk alongside her Superhero brother. “Can I root for yeh?” she begged, swinging their connected arms gleefully.
“Maaaybe.” he answered with a hint of a smile as they closed in on the boys playing baseball. Suddenly everyone’s head lifted up and they greeted Troy. “Hey boys! Got room enough for me in a team?”
“Yeah, sure do! But whats with the girl? Shouldn’t she be at home?” someone asked.
“Nawh, we went out for today so even our Poppa is with us. Mind if Natalie sits on the side and watches us? I had to bring her along…” Troy explained, excited to play, but still holding his younger sister’s hand.
“No girl should be here! What if she get hurt or whatnot? She only gonna make a scene and have our hides whooped! Can‘t you take her back?” They all started to whine.
Troy’s eyebrows narrowed. “Natalie is my responsibility, and I’m not going to just leave her stranded. Then it’s MY rump on the line- no-no way. Either you got me, and my sister watches, or we both go. It’s not a big favor, guys! She just wants to cheer for me…. surely a fan in the box isn’t terrible, hm?”
“Awwww, you and your sister can shove it for all I care!” the one kid said, waving his glove as if out of luck or shooing them away.
“Ya’ll mean!” Natalie boomed in outrage. No one messed with her brother! “Troy is always nice to you, so why can’t you be nice back?” The Southern Belle had spoken, but only made the boys laugh. Troy was fine; walking away with Natalie even, until someone said something more offensive than anything, and then he was up with a fist to their collar in a bunching of cloth beneath his fingers.
“If I ever hear you talk like that about me, my sister, or my parents, you’ll get worsen than a whooping from the nuns, ya here? You just keep your mouth shut, and I’ll let you keep your teeth.” Trying to keep it as far from his sister’s ears as possible, Troy had muttered the threat in the other kid’s ear. It was almost a fight, it seemed, but Natalie tugged on her brother’s shirt again.
“Troy! Git off em! He ain’t worth it, let’s go back to Momma!” she pled, eventually soothing her brother’s anger and leading him off and away from the ball players.
“Come ‘long, Sis.” he ended the conflict.
The kid pulled Troy back around and gave him a punch in the eye, sending Troy into the dust of the road in a curled up ball. Natalie was over the edge, and did all she could to protect him while the other boys backed away… not sure what to do because Troy was their friend, and no one really ever went up against him. (Troy was a good, fair kid. No one ever hurt him because he never hurt anyone or was mean to em’. Thus, he was respected)
The six year old girl stormed over and kicked the boy in the leg and stepped on his foot as hard as she could shouting “I’m gonna tell evr’one how you punched Troy when he aint do nothing! You hurt my brother you gonna be messin’ with me, ya’ here?!”
Troy was shocked at how she stood up for him with no fear, and causing the other boy pain. Suddenly the other kids were laughing at the other boy and how Natalie told him off, ignoring the state he was in. Only Grayson cared to help him up since Natalie was struggling to do so. “You alright, Troy? He hit ya purty hard there, huh?”
“Y-Yeah, thanks. I’m good now, thanks Gray. We best be going.” Troy took his sister’s hand and pulled her along to the store their parents were in. “You can’t be mentioning this to Momma and Poppa now, got it? They don’t need to know ’bout what happened, especially if you saw it. You know Momma doesn’t like it when I go out to play, so whatcha think if she knew?”
“I promise. Pinky promise! I wont say nuthin to no one!” she answered coolly.
“I love ya, now hop on in through the door and see if they’re done.” Troy suggested as he tried to see if any mark had begun to form. It wasn’t proper to be in fights.
Later that night, after dinner and all other family activities…..
A knock sounded on Troy’s door as he put something to his eye, trying not to make it worse, but fussing over it anyhow. “Come in.”
His little sister padded her tiny feet over to his bed and flopped on it so a squeaking sound scraped at their ears a few seconds. “What’s wrong, Natalie? You want me to read to you again?”
“No, silly! I wanted to ask about your eye!”
“Shhhh!” Troy jumped, rushing over to the bed from the small mirror he had in his room. “Don’t talk so loud!”
“Sorry.” she whispered, frantic as to not upset her brother. “I’ve been worried about you all day! Does it hurt? Do you want to tell Momma now? It got all big and goofy, Troy! They’re gonna notice tomorrowah at breakfast, you know. You aint gonna be able to hide a shiner like that from ‘em.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he gritted, saw the temper flaring and backed away from his sister slightly before sitting on his bed, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Sis. I just don like Mamma worrying about me. I’m grown up, she should be able to trust me… but getting a black eye aint proving it much.” That was the dilemma. Natalie then wrapped her arms around her brother’s neck.
“Well you always tell me to tell the truth, even if it hurts. I think it be best if ya just get goin’ and explain it to them! I’ll go with you, and it’ll be okay! Okay? I promise!” With a quick peck on the cheek to wash away all the bad in the world (or so she wished and swore it could), the little girl pushed her long curls from her shoulder so they were on her back and out of her eyes. “Aint that being responsible, Troy?”
Troy was smiling, he was eating his words this time, and she was right in every way. Then a faint laugh broke out. “Leave it to my baby sister to tell me the better thing to do.”
“Ya’ll did good in raising me!” she threw back, on her toes with glittering brown eyes full of mischief and childish wonder, and her big smile trying to hold back giggles. “Now don you forget what I tole you now!”
“Yes, Yes. Goodnight, Natalie.” Troy responded in dismissal of her presence, even though she was already half way out the door.
Troy came down the stairs that morning to a sobbing mother as her husband suited up and left for war, not a choice in the world as to whether he could stay or not. He couldn’t remember what they’d said to one another in the years past, but what he does recall was darting off like a rocket the second shock had drained itself from his limbs. He wasn’t too young to not make a leap and bound to make a small space between him and his father in the midst of a large bunch of troops.
The sad reality was that even if his father wanted to, he would never be allowed to take notice to his son……he wasn’t given permission. Following orders was required…..and it broke his heart to have to have done it.
“Father!” he shouted in grief, eyes burning from the held back tears, “Father come back!” Soon he was lost in a sea of silent, stern faced men with no remorse or even a hint of regret in not pointing him in the right direction.
Behind him, Troy could hear that a maid and his female family members were calling him back to the doorway of their abode. Forget that! “Father please! You can’t leave us! Don’t you love us? Father! FATHER!!!!” And eventually, the young legs wore out, and he could no longer keep up and Troy had to bend over as he gasped for air to fill his lungs. The tears still did not fall, even when he fell to his knees and watched the uniformed men disappear.
A lot after that was a blur to him, but Natalie skidded over to him and was as upset as him. “Troy….Troy? Where’s Poppa?” she whimpered and sniffled through her dampened cheeks and sore pink eyes. She hadn’t even gotten dressed properly, still in her nighttime dressings, though as his younger sister, neither minded that fact; let alone right now as their father deserted them.
Troy stood up now, the look of distress only apparent to someone much more mature as a scowled expression now shredded his youthful handsomeness. “He left us, Nat. He left us to go to war.” He turned around and dusted himself off from the dusty road. “For all I care he’s as good as dead to us.”
“Troy! That‘s mean! He‘d never just leave! He loves us!” the younger protested as strongly as she ever had, the tears flowing much heavier now, he could tell form her voice. “Poppa will come home, and you know it!”
Troy was nicknamed “Cue” because with both good and bad luck in his appearing, he was always right on time. It wasn’t a curse or gift, but simply coincidence that he was always at the right place at the (majority) right time, causing him to hear, see, or witness one thing or another. This time, however, it was more that a curse….it was Troy’s personal crucifix.
“How did it happen?” he asked, a young gentleman now of sixteen years. He was much lankier now, and in other places he filled out alright. Being the man of the house for four years had taken a particular toll on him in every aspect. His sister, however, was still on her way to getting all the perks to puberty. She had come from the kitchen when it happened, and the words she heard gave no doubt in her mind as to what had occurred. Natalie’s hands shook the tray of tea she had made for their ailing mother, the beaming smile vanished in an instant, and her feet came to a dead stop.
The two men before her brother and mother; who was at this point laying back on the couch with a crimson wool blanket over her, frowned with their bodies otherwise ridiculously straight in the worn out blue and gold uniform. “It’s hard to say…..there was a bloody confrontation, but when we regrouped your father was gone.”
“Then he’s missing?” Troy asked as Natalie pulled herself together and set the tea down as if she hadn’t heard a thing from the hall that connected the kitchen and the living room.
“Here we are mother!” the girl announced with a grin, stirring her mother’s tea before helping her up to drink it. “Just the way you like it….two cubes of sugar and some lemon juice.”
The one officer coughed, whether it was guilt or not was undetermined. “There was no way your father could have made it out alive from where his group was dispatched, son. We‘re sorry…that‘s all we can say.”
“Ma’am.” the other silent officer added with the tip of his hat and a bow. “He was a brave man, and spoke of his family as if you were something more powerful that the Lord Almighty. He will always be honored.” And with that, both men left on their own horse to deliver bad news to many more that day.
Troy said nothing, did nothing, and could only stare at the wooden floor of their home. Dead. Honor. Family. Fearless. It was all numbing to him, nothing seemed to touch him enough to have it hurt. With big brown eyes smoldering in jumbled up emotions, he remembered his mother. She depended on him more than anything now. “It’s going to be alright, Mother. I promise.”
Natalie took the cup from her weak hands as their mother pulled her son to the other side of her on the furniture piece. The fatigued mother put a hand to Troy’s cheek. “My darlings,” she said, then turning to her daughter and doing the same. “You will be stronger from this. Even through our sorrow, I know that we will be better for this. The pain will hurt harder now than ever, but with time you and your sister shall grow into something great.” It was sometimes hard to understand her now, with words she didn’t want to say being said, leaving words out, or something like that; however, her thick skinned, southern attitude never let her sink into further sickness. Mrs. Dillinger was maybe sick, and maybe widowed, but she had children to raise, and she wouldn’t slack because of fear or sadness. She was her children’s rock, and that was how she’d stay.
After the funeral for Mr. Dillinger, Troy and Natalie retreated to their secret hideaway in their backyard a few yards into the woods. There, they had soft grass and tall trees to conceal them from the funeral crowd as they sat on a thick branch or swung from the ropes of a handmade swing. They could mourn privately, as much as they did or didn’t want to. If nothing else, they just wanted to get away from all the people once their mother had been set inside the house on the couch to rest as the multitude of people gathered there as well.
“He never wrote to us…not once.” Troy murmured, trying to swallow this, but finding it hard.
“What?” Natalie returned, lightly swaying on the swing below.
“You know, anyone else we knew who had parents in the war had gotten letters from their fathers. But….ours didn’t. Not even a single visit between it all.”
“Its not like you can call ’time out’ in the middle of a bloodbath, Troy.” she answered, her hair flowing gently behind her. “You have no clue if he had even tried to write any! He could have died before he could send one out…..and its not like a messenger can just come around all the time to deliver it….” Natalie had grown to be sensible, even for ten years old, and mature for her age. When their mother grew ill, she had no choice but to do the things she normally would. Thankfully, Natalie had grown to be the other side of his brain, the one that was simple, logical, and much more slow in reaction and quicker to listen.
“Maybe you’re right….” the older boy sighed. “But what if he faked it?”
“What? Okay, now something is really messed up in that head of yours. Why in blue blazes would our father think about faking his own death? What in the world could he possibly get out of it?” Natalie flipped, confused and a bit outraged he would think of their dad that way.
“He knew Mother was dying….and then what? Raise us? Father may have loved you, but when it came to any other form of expression besides being in the same room, he wouldn’t have any idea how to raise a growing girl and his son. Besides, at my age, I could take care of you….and the house.”
Natalie, Troy could see, was not only having a rough time with such a conclusion, but could tell that she could see it as clearly as he had. “Poppa would never leave me….he’d never leave us, Troy!”
“I’m sorry, Natalie….but I can’t see him dead. It’s been too long, and did you see the way those two men acted yesterday?”
“Yes. They acted like officers telling a family that their husband and father just DIED, Troy.” his sister returned, sliding off the swing and facing him from the bottom of the trunk of the tree.
“No, they acted like that, but also as if they covered something up…like they knew more than that.”
“Well, they fought, too, Troy. Im sure the memories of what they witnessed weren’t pleasant. Honestly, Im glad they spared me the details….I‘m sad enough.”
“They changed their story, Natalie! Isn’t that suspicious?” Troy pressed as he jumped out of the tree. “I can’t let this pass, Sis. I got to find out why he left without even a goodbye.”
Troy searched for a year, intent on finding the man who he thought deserted his family for something better. For a year, he found nothing but empty promises. Natalie had started to become a bit of a shut in because of their mother’s illness getting progressively worse, and he lost some friends from either getting drafted or something related. He only had the ones who had been his friends since they were babies, and didn’t mind putting up with the insane idea he had formed about his dad (that or sympathized. Either way.).
And then a bitter miracle appeared. Mr. Dillinger was in a bar, taking a drink from the bartender. This was the opposite to the cool, collected and wise man he’d grown up with, and that fact enraged Troy. The boy watched from the window, eyes ablaze with a look of torment, betrayal, and a fury he couldn’t begin to describe. It was hard to not want to just walk in, embarrass the old man, and throw a nice punch….
The man in the bar looked up, and caught the boy standing in the window, though his expression didn’t show any sort of concern for the realization he just had. On the other side, the boy’s fists were clenched until they were as white as a ghost’s. He’d wait. He’d wait until the coward left the bar.
It was past noon when Mr. Dillinger stepped out of the bar and went to grab his horse that Troy came out of thin air and announced his presence. “So how long did you plan this? How long did you plan this new life without your family?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Troy’s father said nonchalantly.
“Don’t lie to me! I was there the day you left….and the days we all waited to hear from you…and the days mother got so sick she couldn’t even open her eyes from the pain! Where were you? You couldn’t have been fighting to have a horse and clothes that someone wealthier than we were could only buy.” Troy almost shouted, but held the shouts back. Some people looked, and whispered by that point, and the boy couldn’t have been happier.
“I say you’re crazy.” the older man returned as calm as ever. “I didn’t write you because they wouldn’t let me, and as for your mother….I’m not surprised.”
“How can you just say that! How can you act as if we were just a pile of junk? You know, Nat-” Troy took a breath to sooth the anger spilling out with ever moment he stood there. “Natalie doesn’t think you’re dead. But she refuses to think you’d ever leave us, leave her like you did! I got over you leaving….but what you did to her….I can’t forgive you for.”
“And what may that be?”
“For the last five years, she’s waited at the doorway for you to come for her birthday. She puts on the prettiest dress she’s got, cleans herself up real nice, and prays that you’d be coming to see her. Every day she sits on the couch with our mother instead of doing things eleven year old girls do. Natalie lost all her friends because of you! She takes care of mother and does everything you should have been!”
“Shush up!” the older man said as people really did begin to watch the quarrel on the porch of the bar.
“No! IF you aren’t my father anymore…then I don’t have to listen to you, do I?” Troy pushed back with an inward grin. “Let them all here how you abandoned your family, or how you never died in the war five years ago! Show your true colors, and explain it to them….I have my proof. I can go back home…but only you’ll feel guilty.” Troy left on his own horse then, and rode home to his sister and mother. Mr. Dillinger on the other hand, was totally shamed in front of almost the whole town.
Troy told his sister Natalie about the run in he had with their father, and she didn’t take it well. Tears were shed, comfort was needed, and the wounds were unfortunately reopened for them both. “Natalie, you can’t tell Mother. I don’t think she can take that kind of stress anymore.”
His little sister bawled her eyes out, the whole thing sinking in as her brother tried to comfort her. “It’s not fair! Daddy promised he‘d never leave me!”
“I know…he promised a lot to us, and mother, but remember what she told us the day we got that telegram? We can only make ourselves stronger for this. We can‘t undo what he did, but learn something from his actions, Natalie.” Troy told her in that calm, brotherly voice as he always had. “Never do that to your children, Natalie….discipline them, love them, and help them grow; but never abandon them when they need you. Remember that because of what you had to learn to help Momma will make you a good wife, and a good mother….and that if it wasn‘t for this, you probably wouldn‘t know a thing.”
His words broke her down more through her tears, but Troy didn’t leave her until she fell asleep. He would take care of their mother tonight, and give his sister a rest for once. “Mother,” he said softly to the woman in the large bed. She had been moved from the couch to the bed, seeing as though she had no way of walking anymore. “Mother, it’s me…are you awake?”
Mrs. Dillinger’s breath was shallow and a lamp flickered dimly to shed some light around the room now that it was dark. “Troy. Come. Here.” The woman’s coughing fit upchucked blood.
It had been a long time since he had seen his mother, and it was like a stake to the heart to hear how badly she had really become. He wiped his mother‘s face clean and set the napkin aside. “Im here, Im here. What do you need? Natalie’s asleep, so I’m taking over tonight.” He bent onto his knees to level with his mother’s face so he could hear her better, and took one of her hands.
“Good.” the woman said, her long brown hair was parted and set on either side of her shoulders, the ends curly- like Natalie’s inherited style. “Son. Take care of her….”
Her son’s eyes widened in shock. “No…No...Momma, you can’t do this!” Troy’s eyes began to tear, his throat tighten. “I don’t know how!”
“Yes you do, Troy.” she gave back slowly, coughing yet again in a fit which Troy cleaned up again. “Do what you’ve been doing. Keep her safe…keep her happy. Protect her like a brother should, and watch her grow.”
Troy was loosing her slowly, and he panted as panic set in. His mother was dying right now…..who would help? Even if they could, would they be here in time? “Momma, you won’t die now…..you can’t! I still need you!”
“What good am I to you this way, Troy?” she said as faint as ever, and attempting to pull his cheek to hers. “You never needed me, dear. You are like your father…independent and strong willed. I have faith in you….now it’s time to put some in yourself.”
Troy knew this was the last time he’d speak to her, and he nodded, even in the panic and shock of it all. These are her last words…..her will lies with me. He wiped his blurry eyes, “I’ll protect her, Momma…don’t you worry about it. I’ll do whatever I have to so that she’s happy.”
His mother used the last bit of her strength to put her arm lovingly around her son. Her eyes were sunken in beyond belief like a corpse, and she was so thin you’d think she never ate a bite of food in her life. It was disgusting and painful. “My man…my big man of the house….it’s okay to cry.”
With red eyes, his face coming out of the mattress, Troy let every ounce of his boyishness go, every guard undone, and sobbed. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Momma!” He couldn’t take it anymore. Tomorrow he would be seventeen, but that was a number…an age. It didn’t matter how old you get, because you will always need your parents- and you will always love them terribly.
Mary the housemaid who had been with their family since she was a child herself, had come in after waking up to muffled noises. She gasped as she became a witness to Madam Dillinger’s final breath, her hand over her mouth and her heart instantly shattered. Through her eyes she saw the poor Young Master against the drawers of the small cabinet as distraught and sorrowful as she had just become, his eyes red and limbs shaking.
Mary ran over and took the boy into her arms after shutting the door as silently as possible. “Shhhh…Master Troy…I know, I know…I miss her already, too.” the servant said compassionately, sitting there letting him mourn as long as he wanted. “Tomorrow we’ll let the house know, and I’ll go off and tell the Preacher in the mornin‘. You and Miss Natalie just lost your momma…so don’t you act like you gotta be strong. Children shouldn’t watch their parents die….but she be in the glory a God now, Honey.”
On Troy Dillinger’s seventeenth birthday, he had become the Master of the Dillinger home, the Father/brother of the family, and an orphan all in one blink. Natalie stood beside him on the left, and Mary on the right as he addressed the rest of the people who kept up their home and had raised them just as much as their late mother had. “Last night, I put my sister Natalie to bed and went to check on our mother. There she gave me her last words of love, peace, and wisdom. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to run the house myself, but as hard as it may become…..I will do everything I can to keep you all here as long as you care to be, and be fair about any problems that will come about…”
“Thank you all for being such good people!” Natalie chimed in, wanting to express it now before she burst any more than she had. “I know Momma is going to give you a lot of blessings from Heaven!”
There was a knock at the door, and tears were beginning for some of the servants of the house, while others bowed their heads in respect. No one answered the door this time, and the Priest walked in.
** im thinking that last part was rushed a bit, and even a little awkward. You tell me. But hey, I tried**
Time seemed to move so fast, and the funeral was the evening of Troy’s birthday. As if his birthday could have gotten any worse…..Natalie thought sadly, looking up to her older brother’s cool, collected face. She took his hand as the Priest spoke, servants, friends, and family all gathered.
Troy was the last to leave, his sister’s joys his only release from the pain. But the unexpected happened that night.
It was in the early hours of the morning that suddenly Troy woke up to something coming from around the house. It couldn’t have been the deer or anything from the forest, because they never went farther than the clearings rim. He went down, throwing on a pair of shoes and grabbing the pistol he now kept under his pillow. It all happened so fast, suddenly his father was thrusting him up against the exterior of the house with one hand choking the life out of him.
“You think I’d leave after what you did to me? Huh? Do you boy?” he said harshly, tightening the grip as his son wiggled in pain and gasped for air. Then suddenly he was on the ground and he could feel blood from the back of his head coming out, pain everywhere else.
“You know I do!” he replied back defiantly, as frightened as he truly was. Troy was only concerned with his sister’s welfare now. The boy stood up, the gun still in hand as he backed up, falling on his butt as he fell off the porch in the darkness. “Momma didn’t know, but I wish she did!”
Everything was spinning as he ran from the charging soldier who was a human, but a deadly weapon, too.
“You want to know what else I did?” his dad said, just to get under his son’s skin. “Those Indian women….all those Indian women were mine for the takin’! And I beat them, and I raped them and made them watch their children have the same until we killed them, too!”
It was like the worst nightmare imaginable now, and he could only think to run.
“Imagine what I can do to you.”
Blood was all over, his nose, his palms and knees, his head….and after more struggling and terror it was just…..done.
A gun shot went off, and it hit his father, who was down now. He killed him. No, not yet. But he would be.
Yells of pain and agonizing torture echoed through miles, if that was at all possible. Organs came out, gashes and slices were made until the body was a splash of bloody mess and unrecognizable. He used his own father’s knife to butcher him to death, making a scene that most tough men would most likely be sick over. On the other hand, some demons may have called it a work of art.
The next day was when the investigation occurred, though no one ever suspected Troy. The nicest, most responsible and mature young men around. No, no one would ever consider him the murderer this time. This time. Troy himself was in his room, giving the weak-stomach excuse from leaving the house or talk to anyone. In actuality, he was going insane, slowly, but surely, he was- and no one could stop it now.
His father was dead. He did it. And Im damn well happy the bastard is dead!
No. No. This was wrong! All WRONG!
Troy wouldn’t let Natalie near him for weeks after that. She was worried, and so were many, but they blamed it on missing his mother and growing up as alone as a young man his age could get without mom or dad.
((A special thanks to Zawa for helping me out with the assistance of Alcante in this small section of my story!))
Years past, but Troy kept his word to his mother in having Natalie safe, happy, and strong. His sister was married now, and with her second child on the way….but Troy was more than alone….he was running away from everything in hopes to never hurt someone again. The urges drove him mad, and they wouldn’t go away!
On his last leg as he ran through the woods, feeling like insanity would surely drown him before any nearby creek would. With inflamed eyes and anger overflowing with self-loathing and pain, he stopped for no one and nothing until he eventually tripped from a heavily uprooted tree limb. There had to be another way to do this....some way to keep his sister alive. His mind shouted with voices he never knew of telling him to do it, that he'd feel better. Troy was a good guy, and didn't consider things like that....certainly not after the guilt from when he killed his father.
He inhaled deeply, drawing a familiar aroma into himself, savoring it with a smile on his features. They were wide features, those of his face, easy and welcoming, the kind of face that inspired trust and familiarity rather than awe and worship (these being the responses to the breathtaking beauty of some of his brethren). His brown eyes were warm, holding glimmers and life and interest, but there was a certain darkness behind them as well, unnamed, and a suave emerald suit clothed his slim body, though his collar remained undone. The scent in the air left a warm feeling in him, and he turned with an inquisitive smile toward the upcoming source. Sun scattered through the trees, dappling his face and turning his hair to fire where it pooled. It was very wavy, just short of curls, and was tied back from his face so that it could continue down his back unhindered.
A curious glance, a slight smile. He stood up straight, one hand posed delicately on a branch. "Good evening," he said pleasantly.
Troy looked up immediately at the much clearer voice that was in front of him, and he pulled himself back and scooted backwards. He was so tempted to take out the knife in his pocket......to see the blood.... NO! No! "G-Get away..." he said with a shaken voice, be it from the lack of sanity or fear.
"Or you will take that knife from your pocket, and cut me?" he asked, giving a low laugh. Though his appearance was one completely benign, there was some fell power about him. The air seemed thick, and the blood seemed to pump louder in the veins, the creeks seemed to run just a little bit faster. "That's only natural. What have I ever done for you? You're poor and pathetic, and now it's on display for me. Why wouldn't you be wrathful?"
He was telling himself about the need for blood when he snapped out of it with "Shut up! You know nothing!" he shouted, swearing he had to be crazy...this was some dream. The knife was out now, defense or offense, he was ready. "Wha-what are you?"
"Watch your mouth!" he said sharply, in response to Cue's shout, and with those words Cue would have felt a strange wrench to one side, like he was trying to exist in two places. It was like the pulling of hair, painful only if one resisted, but it would have been hard to go with the flow as fast as the pull had occurred. His smile returned. "Why do you care? Are you really that curious?"
Troy writhed and shouted in agony as the person did whatever black arts they were. It had to be that, right? He curled up in a ball, dropping the knife and closing his eyes as tight as they could. "Kill me! Just please! KILL ME!!!!!!!" He just wanted the pain to end...all of it. He no longer considered a name important. If this person could do it- or do something he didn't care!
The man made a jerking motion with his hand, and a pint of water ripped from the wailing man, as cleanly as anyone could desire it. His mouth and throat became too dry to scream, and Alcante’s smile became cuttingly sarcastic. He spoke in a mockingly soothing tone.
"Listen you little shit, I am not in the habit of obeying screaming ****s like yourself, understand?" he asked, quite carefree despite the cutting undertone. "Maybe if you beg and kiss my feet, I'll dirty my shoe with your beetle juice."
You could almost hear laughter through the bitter pain of it all. He couldn't say anything this time, not understanding how or why, but not really caring. I could be your slave and feel happier than I do now! I don't think you get it! I need to die......I need the blood! he thought, considering it seemed like the other man read them this whole time.
The man dug the heel of his boot viciously in between Troy's shoulder blades, taking a cruel delight in his agony. He leaned down until he made eye contact, further adding weight to the sharp edges of his boot. "You're a mess, and I think you know it. So come on, you little b*****. Beg to me. Cry and grovel these words: 'Alcante, Alcante, please take away my pain. I promise to worship you always. Take away this pathetic existence, and give me everything that I desire," he murmured soothingly.
Troy was a mess, and he said it as unstably and clear as he could amongst the pain and the laughing and the world spinning around him. If he could have cried tears of blood, he would have......happily.
"Right on," Alcante said maliciously. "Close your eyes. You might not be able to forget this if you see it, and damn it to Hell if I need another ****ing Kilk around." He shut Troy's eyes with a firm hand, and then with a casual air ripped his soul from his body. While there were those that called him Alcante Soulstealer, it was really named for the appearance of all the water being torn from the body, his specialty. Actual souls took a bit more finesse, and it was well after dark before Troy could return to any real semblance of reality.
And when he did open them again everything changed. He could tell that as much insanity as he had, that it was calmed, and the lone reason for blood remained. Everything was lighter, darker, and yet somehow different even though he saw it all the same as before. He picked up the knife he once held onto for dear life, and put it away in a concealed pocket from his jacket. Somehow Troy felt like himself again, the old him….the one that his family adored, but drastically changed on the inside. Thank you, Alcante! he voiced inside, too afraid to speak aloud. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!
Nothing felt unusual except his mind, again, and he ran now, ran as if it was the next best thing in life. Her. No name, no face, no memory as to who she was, but knew that she was next. She would be the next to suffer.
It took all of twenty minutes to get there from where he was, and now all he had to do was wait. Troy did alright, and when the light went out for the house itself, he slipped inside unnoticed as they went to bed. The blood….so beautiful…so appealing! He couldn’t help himself! The man- if he could even be called that anymore- went to the child’s room. Sabrina looked like her mother, perfect and angelically featured. Such a pity, but it stung….looking at the little one. There was a painful part of him that shouted not to do this, but he could of cared less what that voice said.
Blood went everywhere as he sliced her neck, and then made a long slit down the middle of her body. It was a massacred mess, but he loved it with every fiber of his being. Troy held in the joy and laughter he wanted to ring out to the world, and moved through the house to find his sister and her husband.
The dark house was as silent as the ones who were six feet under, and there they lay in their bed, smiles of what? Love? Happiness? Pft! They knew nothing of those things…not like he did! The blood hurt him not, the blood came to him! “Just like those soldier boys..” he muttered, not trying to keep them asleep and make it painless. Natalie was with child, and her large stomach was prominent under the covers they put overtop of them, her husband with an arm around her.
Natalie woke up immediately, and saw the blood soaked brother of hers, but too scared to scream. “Troy….Troy what did you do?” she asked him. “What have you done? The blood…are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, perfectly perfect, actually. But Im not too sure y’all will be.” he replied with a horrific gleam in his eyes, and a maddened grin.
“Troy Dillinger!” she gasped, pulling herself from the bed and waking her husband in the process. “What have you been doing? Please brother! Don’t do this, I never did nothing to hurt you! I love you, I looked up to you! You need to get help!”
“And you will help me,” he chuckled giddily, “Sis.” It was a mock. He had no family, no sister, no life before this day. “Don’t fret, dear sister…..I promise it won’t hurt.” He went for the husband first, watching his sister’s skin turn green with illness and fear as she watched the sight before her.
“MARK!” she cried, hands over her stomach to protect the baby if she could. “Troy! Why? We used to be so close! What did the war do to you? You know I never left your side…..tell me why you want to do this!”
“The war only helped me realize why I lived….why I had the strength to do what I did.”
“What?” she was so confused. What was happening!
“I may tell you one day What, but not tonight.” He went after his sister as she ran, her glossy curls flowing from behind as she went to guard her daughter, not knowing he had already disposed of her. “Don’t run, Sis! You wanted to know why, right?” it was almost hysterical, his voice, as well as dark. She was all over the house, running and hiding and trying to get away with no avail.
He came and looked at the beyond petrified lady and studied her, just standing there as he soaked in her fear and the scene itself. “You shouldn’t worry about her, you know. I took care of her before I came to you.” There was a simple nonchalant smirk there now, as he pinched some fabric from his vest and undershirt coated in blood, giving the explanation in that single motion.
The horror on her face couldn’t be furthered then, tears flooded her cheeks as she sank to the floor, knowing no one could help. “What have I done, Troy? Tell me….”
“Simple. You live.” Troy slashed her stomach and stuck the knife in to kill the baby first. He had a story for Natalie, and it would be no good if she didn’t hear it. His sister’s screaming made his body feel stronger and more alive than any of the love she could have provided.
“Now, I think I need to explain myself…don’t you? I mean, out of common courtesy since you seem to be dying to know. I wanted to keep it to myself, actually, but again, if it makes you cry….I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
Natalie was in too much shock and pain to speak, and looked at her brother, betrayed and crying. “Now, once upon a time…….Oh I remember you always enjoyed these kinds of stories….” he began, as if he were a narrator and with a jolly voice. “There was a family that had everything. There was a mother, and a father with two darling children. One day he left without even saying goodbye to his son, and when the son got old enough, he went out searching for him to see what had gone wrong. Sound familiar?”
Natalie then understood what he meant. This was him. Their family!
“Good, I see you get the idea so far, so lets continue before you die off to fast.” clearing his throat and looking at the bloody knife run against his fingertip, he continued the story. “Where was I? Oh yes, the boy went searching for his father to get answers as his little sister slaved over their sick mother. Only, he found him alright. Apparently he left his family for a younger lady, someone who could provide him with more pleasure in life than he could find in his old house! He ran home to check on his sister and mother, only to have her die on him. Oh he had a great birthday! Don’t you think? A funeral, and on top of it all- he was ALONE! He swore to mother that he’d make sure his sister had a good life and lived long with happy days, and he did just that. What neither of them anticipated was good old DADDY coming back to kill them after his son embarrassed him in front of THE WHOLE GOD DAMN TOWN! Well, the kid fought with the father- which isn’t very nice- and almost died protecting his little sister from who knew what kind of torture! I think that part is so selfless, hm?”
Natalie could only cry, seeing how she had failed her brother this whole time.
“Oh, don’t give me that face….I’m not through yet! It gets so much better!” Troy told her, squatting down before her on the floor. “He shot his daddy, but he wasn’t done yet. No, then he made sure he would never hurt him and his little sister ever ever again. The guilt drove him mad, and the war helped nurture it into what became impossible to cure!” He let a hand take his sister’s cheek, as if to be loving, but not at all with the intention of it. “So do you see it now, Sis?”
“I’m sorry….” she whispered as blood trickled down the corners of her mouth. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Tro-” He took the knife from her stomach and put it into her chest. Death was coming quick.
Something else snapped, and he was like he truly was back then. What did he do? Tears ran down his face by the thousands, it seemed. “Natalie…Oh God…I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do this! Please believe me!” The knife was on the floor and he covered himself further in his sister’s as he took the hand closest to him. “How could I ever want to hurt you? You’re my sister!”
“Troy…” she said, hardly able to speak. “I know, I know…..I knew you- were in there….somewhere.” There wasn’t a place the blood wasn’t now. “I pray you find forgiven-ess….brother.” Gone. Nothing left, and through his frustration, it was like the new him clicked back on again, ecstatic as he bathed in the blood. That night, Troy Dillinger no longer existed…..he was dead, and a new being arose. A demon with no other need but the kill.
Cue.
It was hot on those summer days in the Wild West of Texas. Way out in the middle of what seemed like nowhere, Troy Dillinger was playing babysitter yet again for his little sister Natalie while the family made their rounds through town buying food, medicine or whatever it was they needed.
It was boring. Terribly, terribly boring! Troy thought as he walked along side Natalie, thinking about how his friends were off playing ball or something certainly much more fun than this. Lost in thought he had continued to walk, not realizing anyone had called his name until his annoying little sister had tugged on his baggy white sleeve and screeched his name. “What?” he finally returned.
“Nothing. You almost walked inta the pole.” the high soprano voice chimed. Natalie was a precious little girl, not a fair maiden, but not terribly unfortunate. Her light brown eyes sparkled in the morning sun and the child’s long curly hair pulled away by two pale blue ribbons swayed and bounced as she took a step.
Suddenly the small hand that took his had jolted him backward. “Are you suuuuure you’re alright, brother?” Troy spun around and faced the angelic looking six year old, holding back a reddened face from anger and embarrassment. “Yes. Of course! Just….Just go to Mamma and Poppa. Imma be around.”
“Troy, you can’t leave! You know Momma ’ll be mad if ya gitup and go without me!” Natalie protested with a stomp of her little black boot. “If you’re gonna leave, I gotta come with you!”
“No, the point is to not have you around, Natalie. I don’t want to shop! I want to play ball with my friends!”
“Then I’ll ask if I can play too!” she insisted, running behind him, their parents gone in a store at the moment.
“Girls can’t play!” he retorted, trying to get her to run to their mother and father.
“Nu uh! We can too!” Natalie’s voice began to shake, and her tone began to climb to a higher octave. A tear was merely a comment away…..
A bunch of boys had come into the picture, and they were playing. Troy was cracking into tiny pieces over not being there with them. He loved his sister, but he wanted space. Was that too much to ask? He didn’t think so.
“Look, Natalie,” he said crouching down before her. “Now don’t you go cryin’ or nuthin! Dun make me feel guilty for something that wasn’t my fault! You’re meaner than me! Can‘t you just help Momma?”
The sweet little sister shook her head ‘no’ since her arms were crossed over her chest, her white hat matching her lace organza with long sleeves and ruffles at the bottom trim of the sleeves and dress. Its neckline was high with only lace, but she wore it more that because she had to, but she had worn it proudly. “Is it bad to want to be with your brother…or to want to have fun….like we used to all the time? Remember that, Troy? We had a lot of fun! If you aint gonna play with me….I thought I could play wit you!”
It hit him then, in that moment, just how neglectful he’d been to Natalie. He was twelve and a half! She was six, so how could she understand the things he did? All she wanted was her brother. That was also probably the worst guilt trip she ever gave him, telling him how bad a brother he was. He would lighten up a bit……and there’s no harm in watchin’ a game, right? “I’m sorry, Sis. Its just big kids like me need their space to do big kid things…and I want to be with my friends by myself sometimes, okay?” Troy felt bad after giving his sister an unnecessary attitude, but not for wanting to leave. He had a right to want to go off and be with his friends, right? “Come on, and if you be good like you get with Momma at home, then you can come watch the game. But you MUST sit still so I know where you are, understand?”
“Yep!” Natalie beamed, jumping to take his hand and walk alongside her Superhero brother. “Can I root for yeh?” she begged, swinging their connected arms gleefully.
“Maaaybe.” he answered with a hint of a smile as they closed in on the boys playing baseball. Suddenly everyone’s head lifted up and they greeted Troy. “Hey boys! Got room enough for me in a team?”
“Yeah, sure do! But whats with the girl? Shouldn’t she be at home?” someone asked.
“Nawh, we went out for today so even our Poppa is with us. Mind if Natalie sits on the side and watches us? I had to bring her along…” Troy explained, excited to play, but still holding his younger sister’s hand.
“No girl should be here! What if she get hurt or whatnot? She only gonna make a scene and have our hides whooped! Can‘t you take her back?” They all started to whine.
Troy’s eyebrows narrowed. “Natalie is my responsibility, and I’m not going to just leave her stranded. Then it’s MY rump on the line- no-no way. Either you got me, and my sister watches, or we both go. It’s not a big favor, guys! She just wants to cheer for me…. surely a fan in the box isn’t terrible, hm?”
“Awwww, you and your sister can shove it for all I care!” the one kid said, waving his glove as if out of luck or shooing them away.
“Ya’ll mean!” Natalie boomed in outrage. No one messed with her brother! “Troy is always nice to you, so why can’t you be nice back?” The Southern Belle had spoken, but only made the boys laugh. Troy was fine; walking away with Natalie even, until someone said something more offensive than anything, and then he was up with a fist to their collar in a bunching of cloth beneath his fingers.
“If I ever hear you talk like that about me, my sister, or my parents, you’ll get worsen than a whooping from the nuns, ya here? You just keep your mouth shut, and I’ll let you keep your teeth.” Trying to keep it as far from his sister’s ears as possible, Troy had muttered the threat in the other kid’s ear. It was almost a fight, it seemed, but Natalie tugged on her brother’s shirt again.
“Troy! Git off em! He ain’t worth it, let’s go back to Momma!” she pled, eventually soothing her brother’s anger and leading him off and away from the ball players.
“Come ‘long, Sis.” he ended the conflict.
The kid pulled Troy back around and gave him a punch in the eye, sending Troy into the dust of the road in a curled up ball. Natalie was over the edge, and did all she could to protect him while the other boys backed away… not sure what to do because Troy was their friend, and no one really ever went up against him. (Troy was a good, fair kid. No one ever hurt him because he never hurt anyone or was mean to em’. Thus, he was respected)
The six year old girl stormed over and kicked the boy in the leg and stepped on his foot as hard as she could shouting “I’m gonna tell evr’one how you punched Troy when he aint do nothing! You hurt my brother you gonna be messin’ with me, ya’ here?!”
Troy was shocked at how she stood up for him with no fear, and causing the other boy pain. Suddenly the other kids were laughing at the other boy and how Natalie told him off, ignoring the state he was in. Only Grayson cared to help him up since Natalie was struggling to do so. “You alright, Troy? He hit ya purty hard there, huh?”
“Y-Yeah, thanks. I’m good now, thanks Gray. We best be going.” Troy took his sister’s hand and pulled her along to the store their parents were in. “You can’t be mentioning this to Momma and Poppa now, got it? They don’t need to know ’bout what happened, especially if you saw it. You know Momma doesn’t like it when I go out to play, so whatcha think if she knew?”
“I promise. Pinky promise! I wont say nuthin to no one!” she answered coolly.
“I love ya, now hop on in through the door and see if they’re done.” Troy suggested as he tried to see if any mark had begun to form. It wasn’t proper to be in fights.
Later that night, after dinner and all other family activities…..
A knock sounded on Troy’s door as he put something to his eye, trying not to make it worse, but fussing over it anyhow. “Come in.”
His little sister padded her tiny feet over to his bed and flopped on it so a squeaking sound scraped at their ears a few seconds. “What’s wrong, Natalie? You want me to read to you again?”
“No, silly! I wanted to ask about your eye!”
“Shhhh!” Troy jumped, rushing over to the bed from the small mirror he had in his room. “Don’t talk so loud!”
“Sorry.” she whispered, frantic as to not upset her brother. “I’ve been worried about you all day! Does it hurt? Do you want to tell Momma now? It got all big and goofy, Troy! They’re gonna notice tomorrowah at breakfast, you know. You aint gonna be able to hide a shiner like that from ‘em.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he gritted, saw the temper flaring and backed away from his sister slightly before sitting on his bed, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Sis. I just don like Mamma worrying about me. I’m grown up, she should be able to trust me… but getting a black eye aint proving it much.” That was the dilemma. Natalie then wrapped her arms around her brother’s neck.
“Well you always tell me to tell the truth, even if it hurts. I think it be best if ya just get goin’ and explain it to them! I’ll go with you, and it’ll be okay! Okay? I promise!” With a quick peck on the cheek to wash away all the bad in the world (or so she wished and swore it could), the little girl pushed her long curls from her shoulder so they were on her back and out of her eyes. “Aint that being responsible, Troy?”
Troy was smiling, he was eating his words this time, and she was right in every way. Then a faint laugh broke out. “Leave it to my baby sister to tell me the better thing to do.”
“Ya’ll did good in raising me!” she threw back, on her toes with glittering brown eyes full of mischief and childish wonder, and her big smile trying to hold back giggles. “Now don you forget what I tole you now!”
“Yes, Yes. Goodnight, Natalie.” Troy responded in dismissal of her presence, even though she was already half way out the door.
Troy came down the stairs that morning to a sobbing mother as her husband suited up and left for war, not a choice in the world as to whether he could stay or not. He couldn’t remember what they’d said to one another in the years past, but what he does recall was darting off like a rocket the second shock had drained itself from his limbs. He wasn’t too young to not make a leap and bound to make a small space between him and his father in the midst of a large bunch of troops.
The sad reality was that even if his father wanted to, he would never be allowed to take notice to his son……he wasn’t given permission. Following orders was required…..and it broke his heart to have to have done it.
“Father!” he shouted in grief, eyes burning from the held back tears, “Father come back!” Soon he was lost in a sea of silent, stern faced men with no remorse or even a hint of regret in not pointing him in the right direction.
Behind him, Troy could hear that a maid and his female family members were calling him back to the doorway of their abode. Forget that! “Father please! You can’t leave us! Don’t you love us? Father! FATHER!!!!” And eventually, the young legs wore out, and he could no longer keep up and Troy had to bend over as he gasped for air to fill his lungs. The tears still did not fall, even when he fell to his knees and watched the uniformed men disappear.
A lot after that was a blur to him, but Natalie skidded over to him and was as upset as him. “Troy….Troy? Where’s Poppa?” she whimpered and sniffled through her dampened cheeks and sore pink eyes. She hadn’t even gotten dressed properly, still in her nighttime dressings, though as his younger sister, neither minded that fact; let alone right now as their father deserted them.
Troy stood up now, the look of distress only apparent to someone much more mature as a scowled expression now shredded his youthful handsomeness. “He left us, Nat. He left us to go to war.” He turned around and dusted himself off from the dusty road. “For all I care he’s as good as dead to us.”
“Troy! That‘s mean! He‘d never just leave! He loves us!” the younger protested as strongly as she ever had, the tears flowing much heavier now, he could tell form her voice. “Poppa will come home, and you know it!”
Troy was nicknamed “Cue” because with both good and bad luck in his appearing, he was always right on time. It wasn’t a curse or gift, but simply coincidence that he was always at the right place at the (majority) right time, causing him to hear, see, or witness one thing or another. This time, however, it was more that a curse….it was Troy’s personal crucifix.
“How did it happen?” he asked, a young gentleman now of sixteen years. He was much lankier now, and in other places he filled out alright. Being the man of the house for four years had taken a particular toll on him in every aspect. His sister, however, was still on her way to getting all the perks to puberty. She had come from the kitchen when it happened, and the words she heard gave no doubt in her mind as to what had occurred. Natalie’s hands shook the tray of tea she had made for their ailing mother, the beaming smile vanished in an instant, and her feet came to a dead stop.
The two men before her brother and mother; who was at this point laying back on the couch with a crimson wool blanket over her, frowned with their bodies otherwise ridiculously straight in the worn out blue and gold uniform. “It’s hard to say…..there was a bloody confrontation, but when we regrouped your father was gone.”
“Then he’s missing?” Troy asked as Natalie pulled herself together and set the tea down as if she hadn’t heard a thing from the hall that connected the kitchen and the living room.
“Here we are mother!” the girl announced with a grin, stirring her mother’s tea before helping her up to drink it. “Just the way you like it….two cubes of sugar and some lemon juice.”
The one officer coughed, whether it was guilt or not was undetermined. “There was no way your father could have made it out alive from where his group was dispatched, son. We‘re sorry…that‘s all we can say.”
“Ma’am.” the other silent officer added with the tip of his hat and a bow. “He was a brave man, and spoke of his family as if you were something more powerful that the Lord Almighty. He will always be honored.” And with that, both men left on their own horse to deliver bad news to many more that day.
Troy said nothing, did nothing, and could only stare at the wooden floor of their home. Dead. Honor. Family. Fearless. It was all numbing to him, nothing seemed to touch him enough to have it hurt. With big brown eyes smoldering in jumbled up emotions, he remembered his mother. She depended on him more than anything now. “It’s going to be alright, Mother. I promise.”
Natalie took the cup from her weak hands as their mother pulled her son to the other side of her on the furniture piece. The fatigued mother put a hand to Troy’s cheek. “My darlings,” she said, then turning to her daughter and doing the same. “You will be stronger from this. Even through our sorrow, I know that we will be better for this. The pain will hurt harder now than ever, but with time you and your sister shall grow into something great.” It was sometimes hard to understand her now, with words she didn’t want to say being said, leaving words out, or something like that; however, her thick skinned, southern attitude never let her sink into further sickness. Mrs. Dillinger was maybe sick, and maybe widowed, but she had children to raise, and she wouldn’t slack because of fear or sadness. She was her children’s rock, and that was how she’d stay.
After the funeral for Mr. Dillinger, Troy and Natalie retreated to their secret hideaway in their backyard a few yards into the woods. There, they had soft grass and tall trees to conceal them from the funeral crowd as they sat on a thick branch or swung from the ropes of a handmade swing. They could mourn privately, as much as they did or didn’t want to. If nothing else, they just wanted to get away from all the people once their mother had been set inside the house on the couch to rest as the multitude of people gathered there as well.
“He never wrote to us…not once.” Troy murmured, trying to swallow this, but finding it hard.
“What?” Natalie returned, lightly swaying on the swing below.
“You know, anyone else we knew who had parents in the war had gotten letters from their fathers. But….ours didn’t. Not even a single visit between it all.”
“Its not like you can call ’time out’ in the middle of a bloodbath, Troy.” she answered, her hair flowing gently behind her. “You have no clue if he had even tried to write any! He could have died before he could send one out…..and its not like a messenger can just come around all the time to deliver it….” Natalie had grown to be sensible, even for ten years old, and mature for her age. When their mother grew ill, she had no choice but to do the things she normally would. Thankfully, Natalie had grown to be the other side of his brain, the one that was simple, logical, and much more slow in reaction and quicker to listen.
“Maybe you’re right….” the older boy sighed. “But what if he faked it?”
“What? Okay, now something is really messed up in that head of yours. Why in blue blazes would our father think about faking his own death? What in the world could he possibly get out of it?” Natalie flipped, confused and a bit outraged he would think of their dad that way.
“He knew Mother was dying….and then what? Raise us? Father may have loved you, but when it came to any other form of expression besides being in the same room, he wouldn’t have any idea how to raise a growing girl and his son. Besides, at my age, I could take care of you….and the house.”
Natalie, Troy could see, was not only having a rough time with such a conclusion, but could tell that she could see it as clearly as he had. “Poppa would never leave me….he’d never leave us, Troy!”
“I’m sorry, Natalie….but I can’t see him dead. It’s been too long, and did you see the way those two men acted yesterday?”
“Yes. They acted like officers telling a family that their husband and father just DIED, Troy.” his sister returned, sliding off the swing and facing him from the bottom of the trunk of the tree.
“No, they acted like that, but also as if they covered something up…like they knew more than that.”
“Well, they fought, too, Troy. Im sure the memories of what they witnessed weren’t pleasant. Honestly, Im glad they spared me the details….I‘m sad enough.”
“They changed their story, Natalie! Isn’t that suspicious?” Troy pressed as he jumped out of the tree. “I can’t let this pass, Sis. I got to find out why he left without even a goodbye.”
Troy searched for a year, intent on finding the man who he thought deserted his family for something better. For a year, he found nothing but empty promises. Natalie had started to become a bit of a shut in because of their mother’s illness getting progressively worse, and he lost some friends from either getting drafted or something related. He only had the ones who had been his friends since they were babies, and didn’t mind putting up with the insane idea he had formed about his dad (that or sympathized. Either way.).
And then a bitter miracle appeared. Mr. Dillinger was in a bar, taking a drink from the bartender. This was the opposite to the cool, collected and wise man he’d grown up with, and that fact enraged Troy. The boy watched from the window, eyes ablaze with a look of torment, betrayal, and a fury he couldn’t begin to describe. It was hard to not want to just walk in, embarrass the old man, and throw a nice punch….
The man in the bar looked up, and caught the boy standing in the window, though his expression didn’t show any sort of concern for the realization he just had. On the other side, the boy’s fists were clenched until they were as white as a ghost’s. He’d wait. He’d wait until the coward left the bar.
It was past noon when Mr. Dillinger stepped out of the bar and went to grab his horse that Troy came out of thin air and announced his presence. “So how long did you plan this? How long did you plan this new life without your family?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Troy’s father said nonchalantly.
“Don’t lie to me! I was there the day you left….and the days we all waited to hear from you…and the days mother got so sick she couldn’t even open her eyes from the pain! Where were you? You couldn’t have been fighting to have a horse and clothes that someone wealthier than we were could only buy.” Troy almost shouted, but held the shouts back. Some people looked, and whispered by that point, and the boy couldn’t have been happier.
“I say you’re crazy.” the older man returned as calm as ever. “I didn’t write you because they wouldn’t let me, and as for your mother….I’m not surprised.”
“How can you just say that! How can you act as if we were just a pile of junk? You know, Nat-” Troy took a breath to sooth the anger spilling out with ever moment he stood there. “Natalie doesn’t think you’re dead. But she refuses to think you’d ever leave us, leave her like you did! I got over you leaving….but what you did to her….I can’t forgive you for.”
“And what may that be?”
“For the last five years, she’s waited at the doorway for you to come for her birthday. She puts on the prettiest dress she’s got, cleans herself up real nice, and prays that you’d be coming to see her. Every day she sits on the couch with our mother instead of doing things eleven year old girls do. Natalie lost all her friends because of you! She takes care of mother and does everything you should have been!”
“Shush up!” the older man said as people really did begin to watch the quarrel on the porch of the bar.
“No! IF you aren’t my father anymore…then I don’t have to listen to you, do I?” Troy pushed back with an inward grin. “Let them all here how you abandoned your family, or how you never died in the war five years ago! Show your true colors, and explain it to them….I have my proof. I can go back home…but only you’ll feel guilty.” Troy left on his own horse then, and rode home to his sister and mother. Mr. Dillinger on the other hand, was totally shamed in front of almost the whole town.
Troy told his sister Natalie about the run in he had with their father, and she didn’t take it well. Tears were shed, comfort was needed, and the wounds were unfortunately reopened for them both. “Natalie, you can’t tell Mother. I don’t think she can take that kind of stress anymore.”
His little sister bawled her eyes out, the whole thing sinking in as her brother tried to comfort her. “It’s not fair! Daddy promised he‘d never leave me!”
“I know…he promised a lot to us, and mother, but remember what she told us the day we got that telegram? We can only make ourselves stronger for this. We can‘t undo what he did, but learn something from his actions, Natalie.” Troy told her in that calm, brotherly voice as he always had. “Never do that to your children, Natalie….discipline them, love them, and help them grow; but never abandon them when they need you. Remember that because of what you had to learn to help Momma will make you a good wife, and a good mother….and that if it wasn‘t for this, you probably wouldn‘t know a thing.”
His words broke her down more through her tears, but Troy didn’t leave her until she fell asleep. He would take care of their mother tonight, and give his sister a rest for once. “Mother,” he said softly to the woman in the large bed. She had been moved from the couch to the bed, seeing as though she had no way of walking anymore. “Mother, it’s me…are you awake?”
Mrs. Dillinger’s breath was shallow and a lamp flickered dimly to shed some light around the room now that it was dark. “Troy. Come. Here.” The woman’s coughing fit upchucked blood.
It had been a long time since he had seen his mother, and it was like a stake to the heart to hear how badly she had really become. He wiped his mother‘s face clean and set the napkin aside. “Im here, Im here. What do you need? Natalie’s asleep, so I’m taking over tonight.” He bent onto his knees to level with his mother’s face so he could hear her better, and took one of her hands.
“Good.” the woman said, her long brown hair was parted and set on either side of her shoulders, the ends curly- like Natalie’s inherited style. “Son. Take care of her….”
Her son’s eyes widened in shock. “No…No...Momma, you can’t do this!” Troy’s eyes began to tear, his throat tighten. “I don’t know how!”
“Yes you do, Troy.” she gave back slowly, coughing yet again in a fit which Troy cleaned up again. “Do what you’ve been doing. Keep her safe…keep her happy. Protect her like a brother should, and watch her grow.”
Troy was loosing her slowly, and he panted as panic set in. His mother was dying right now…..who would help? Even if they could, would they be here in time? “Momma, you won’t die now…..you can’t! I still need you!”
“What good am I to you this way, Troy?” she said as faint as ever, and attempting to pull his cheek to hers. “You never needed me, dear. You are like your father…independent and strong willed. I have faith in you….now it’s time to put some in yourself.”
Troy knew this was the last time he’d speak to her, and he nodded, even in the panic and shock of it all. These are her last words…..her will lies with me. He wiped his blurry eyes, “I’ll protect her, Momma…don’t you worry about it. I’ll do whatever I have to so that she’s happy.”
His mother used the last bit of her strength to put her arm lovingly around her son. Her eyes were sunken in beyond belief like a corpse, and she was so thin you’d think she never ate a bite of food in her life. It was disgusting and painful. “My man…my big man of the house….it’s okay to cry.”
With red eyes, his face coming out of the mattress, Troy let every ounce of his boyishness go, every guard undone, and sobbed. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Momma!” He couldn’t take it anymore. Tomorrow he would be seventeen, but that was a number…an age. It didn’t matter how old you get, because you will always need your parents- and you will always love them terribly.
Mary the housemaid who had been with their family since she was a child herself, had come in after waking up to muffled noises. She gasped as she became a witness to Madam Dillinger’s final breath, her hand over her mouth and her heart instantly shattered. Through her eyes she saw the poor Young Master against the drawers of the small cabinet as distraught and sorrowful as she had just become, his eyes red and limbs shaking.
Mary ran over and took the boy into her arms after shutting the door as silently as possible. “Shhhh…Master Troy…I know, I know…I miss her already, too.” the servant said compassionately, sitting there letting him mourn as long as he wanted. “Tomorrow we’ll let the house know, and I’ll go off and tell the Preacher in the mornin‘. You and Miss Natalie just lost your momma…so don’t you act like you gotta be strong. Children shouldn’t watch their parents die….but she be in the glory a God now, Honey.”
On Troy Dillinger’s seventeenth birthday, he had become the Master of the Dillinger home, the Father/brother of the family, and an orphan all in one blink. Natalie stood beside him on the left, and Mary on the right as he addressed the rest of the people who kept up their home and had raised them just as much as their late mother had. “Last night, I put my sister Natalie to bed and went to check on our mother. There she gave me her last words of love, peace, and wisdom. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to run the house myself, but as hard as it may become…..I will do everything I can to keep you all here as long as you care to be, and be fair about any problems that will come about…”
“Thank you all for being such good people!” Natalie chimed in, wanting to express it now before she burst any more than she had. “I know Momma is going to give you a lot of blessings from Heaven!”
There was a knock at the door, and tears were beginning for some of the servants of the house, while others bowed their heads in respect. No one answered the door this time, and the Priest walked in.
** im thinking that last part was rushed a bit, and even a little awkward. You tell me. But hey, I tried**
Time seemed to move so fast, and the funeral was the evening of Troy’s birthday. As if his birthday could have gotten any worse…..Natalie thought sadly, looking up to her older brother’s cool, collected face. She took his hand as the Priest spoke, servants, friends, and family all gathered.
Troy was the last to leave, his sister’s joys his only release from the pain. But the unexpected happened that night.
It was in the early hours of the morning that suddenly Troy woke up to something coming from around the house. It couldn’t have been the deer or anything from the forest, because they never went farther than the clearings rim. He went down, throwing on a pair of shoes and grabbing the pistol he now kept under his pillow. It all happened so fast, suddenly his father was thrusting him up against the exterior of the house with one hand choking the life out of him.
“You think I’d leave after what you did to me? Huh? Do you boy?” he said harshly, tightening the grip as his son wiggled in pain and gasped for air. Then suddenly he was on the ground and he could feel blood from the back of his head coming out, pain everywhere else.
“You know I do!” he replied back defiantly, as frightened as he truly was. Troy was only concerned with his sister’s welfare now. The boy stood up, the gun still in hand as he backed up, falling on his butt as he fell off the porch in the darkness. “Momma didn’t know, but I wish she did!”
Everything was spinning as he ran from the charging soldier who was a human, but a deadly weapon, too.
“You want to know what else I did?” his dad said, just to get under his son’s skin. “Those Indian women….all those Indian women were mine for the takin’! And I beat them, and I raped them and made them watch their children have the same until we killed them, too!”
It was like the worst nightmare imaginable now, and he could only think to run.
“Imagine what I can do to you.”
Blood was all over, his nose, his palms and knees, his head….and after more struggling and terror it was just…..done.
A gun shot went off, and it hit his father, who was down now. He killed him. No, not yet. But he would be.
Yells of pain and agonizing torture echoed through miles, if that was at all possible. Organs came out, gashes and slices were made until the body was a splash of bloody mess and unrecognizable. He used his own father’s knife to butcher him to death, making a scene that most tough men would most likely be sick over. On the other hand, some demons may have called it a work of art.
The next day was when the investigation occurred, though no one ever suspected Troy. The nicest, most responsible and mature young men around. No, no one would ever consider him the murderer this time. This time. Troy himself was in his room, giving the weak-stomach excuse from leaving the house or talk to anyone. In actuality, he was going insane, slowly, but surely, he was- and no one could stop it now.
His father was dead. He did it. And Im damn well happy the bastard is dead!
No. No. This was wrong! All WRONG!
Troy wouldn’t let Natalie near him for weeks after that. She was worried, and so were many, but they blamed it on missing his mother and growing up as alone as a young man his age could get without mom or dad.
((A special thanks to Zawa for helping me out with the assistance of Alcante in this small section of my story!))
Years past, but Troy kept his word to his mother in having Natalie safe, happy, and strong. His sister was married now, and with her second child on the way….but Troy was more than alone….he was running away from everything in hopes to never hurt someone again. The urges drove him mad, and they wouldn’t go away!
On his last leg as he ran through the woods, feeling like insanity would surely drown him before any nearby creek would. With inflamed eyes and anger overflowing with self-loathing and pain, he stopped for no one and nothing until he eventually tripped from a heavily uprooted tree limb. There had to be another way to do this....some way to keep his sister alive. His mind shouted with voices he never knew of telling him to do it, that he'd feel better. Troy was a good guy, and didn't consider things like that....certainly not after the guilt from when he killed his father.
He inhaled deeply, drawing a familiar aroma into himself, savoring it with a smile on his features. They were wide features, those of his face, easy and welcoming, the kind of face that inspired trust and familiarity rather than awe and worship (these being the responses to the breathtaking beauty of some of his brethren). His brown eyes were warm, holding glimmers and life and interest, but there was a certain darkness behind them as well, unnamed, and a suave emerald suit clothed his slim body, though his collar remained undone. The scent in the air left a warm feeling in him, and he turned with an inquisitive smile toward the upcoming source. Sun scattered through the trees, dappling his face and turning his hair to fire where it pooled. It was very wavy, just short of curls, and was tied back from his face so that it could continue down his back unhindered.
A curious glance, a slight smile. He stood up straight, one hand posed delicately on a branch. "Good evening," he said pleasantly.
Troy looked up immediately at the much clearer voice that was in front of him, and he pulled himself back and scooted backwards. He was so tempted to take out the knife in his pocket......to see the blood.... NO! No! "G-Get away..." he said with a shaken voice, be it from the lack of sanity or fear.
"Or you will take that knife from your pocket, and cut me?" he asked, giving a low laugh. Though his appearance was one completely benign, there was some fell power about him. The air seemed thick, and the blood seemed to pump louder in the veins, the creeks seemed to run just a little bit faster. "That's only natural. What have I ever done for you? You're poor and pathetic, and now it's on display for me. Why wouldn't you be wrathful?"
He was telling himself about the need for blood when he snapped out of it with "Shut up! You know nothing!" he shouted, swearing he had to be crazy...this was some dream. The knife was out now, defense or offense, he was ready. "Wha-what are you?"
"Watch your mouth!" he said sharply, in response to Cue's shout, and with those words Cue would have felt a strange wrench to one side, like he was trying to exist in two places. It was like the pulling of hair, painful only if one resisted, but it would have been hard to go with the flow as fast as the pull had occurred. His smile returned. "Why do you care? Are you really that curious?"
Troy writhed and shouted in agony as the person did whatever black arts they were. It had to be that, right? He curled up in a ball, dropping the knife and closing his eyes as tight as they could. "Kill me! Just please! KILL ME!!!!!!!" He just wanted the pain to end...all of it. He no longer considered a name important. If this person could do it- or do something he didn't care!
The man made a jerking motion with his hand, and a pint of water ripped from the wailing man, as cleanly as anyone could desire it. His mouth and throat became too dry to scream, and Alcante’s smile became cuttingly sarcastic. He spoke in a mockingly soothing tone.
"Listen you little shit, I am not in the habit of obeying screaming ****s like yourself, understand?" he asked, quite carefree despite the cutting undertone. "Maybe if you beg and kiss my feet, I'll dirty my shoe with your beetle juice."
You could almost hear laughter through the bitter pain of it all. He couldn't say anything this time, not understanding how or why, but not really caring. I could be your slave and feel happier than I do now! I don't think you get it! I need to die......I need the blood! he thought, considering it seemed like the other man read them this whole time.
The man dug the heel of his boot viciously in between Troy's shoulder blades, taking a cruel delight in his agony. He leaned down until he made eye contact, further adding weight to the sharp edges of his boot. "You're a mess, and I think you know it. So come on, you little b*****. Beg to me. Cry and grovel these words: 'Alcante, Alcante, please take away my pain. I promise to worship you always. Take away this pathetic existence, and give me everything that I desire," he murmured soothingly.
Troy was a mess, and he said it as unstably and clear as he could amongst the pain and the laughing and the world spinning around him. If he could have cried tears of blood, he would have......happily.
"Right on," Alcante said maliciously. "Close your eyes. You might not be able to forget this if you see it, and damn it to Hell if I need another ****ing Kilk around." He shut Troy's eyes with a firm hand, and then with a casual air ripped his soul from his body. While there were those that called him Alcante Soulstealer, it was really named for the appearance of all the water being torn from the body, his specialty. Actual souls took a bit more finesse, and it was well after dark before Troy could return to any real semblance of reality.
And when he did open them again everything changed. He could tell that as much insanity as he had, that it was calmed, and the lone reason for blood remained. Everything was lighter, darker, and yet somehow different even though he saw it all the same as before. He picked up the knife he once held onto for dear life, and put it away in a concealed pocket from his jacket. Somehow Troy felt like himself again, the old him….the one that his family adored, but drastically changed on the inside. Thank you, Alcante! he voiced inside, too afraid to speak aloud. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!
Nothing felt unusual except his mind, again, and he ran now, ran as if it was the next best thing in life. Her. No name, no face, no memory as to who she was, but knew that she was next. She would be the next to suffer.
It took all of twenty minutes to get there from where he was, and now all he had to do was wait. Troy did alright, and when the light went out for the house itself, he slipped inside unnoticed as they went to bed. The blood….so beautiful…so appealing! He couldn’t help himself! The man- if he could even be called that anymore- went to the child’s room. Sabrina looked like her mother, perfect and angelically featured. Such a pity, but it stung….looking at the little one. There was a painful part of him that shouted not to do this, but he could of cared less what that voice said.
Blood went everywhere as he sliced her neck, and then made a long slit down the middle of her body. It was a massacred mess, but he loved it with every fiber of his being. Troy held in the joy and laughter he wanted to ring out to the world, and moved through the house to find his sister and her husband.
The dark house was as silent as the ones who were six feet under, and there they lay in their bed, smiles of what? Love? Happiness? Pft! They knew nothing of those things…not like he did! The blood hurt him not, the blood came to him! “Just like those soldier boys..” he muttered, not trying to keep them asleep and make it painless. Natalie was with child, and her large stomach was prominent under the covers they put overtop of them, her husband with an arm around her.
Natalie woke up immediately, and saw the blood soaked brother of hers, but too scared to scream. “Troy….Troy what did you do?” she asked him. “What have you done? The blood…are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, perfectly perfect, actually. But Im not too sure y’all will be.” he replied with a horrific gleam in his eyes, and a maddened grin.
“Troy Dillinger!” she gasped, pulling herself from the bed and waking her husband in the process. “What have you been doing? Please brother! Don’t do this, I never did nothing to hurt you! I love you, I looked up to you! You need to get help!”
“And you will help me,” he chuckled giddily, “Sis.” It was a mock. He had no family, no sister, no life before this day. “Don’t fret, dear sister…..I promise it won’t hurt.” He went for the husband first, watching his sister’s skin turn green with illness and fear as she watched the sight before her.
“MARK!” she cried, hands over her stomach to protect the baby if she could. “Troy! Why? We used to be so close! What did the war do to you? You know I never left your side…..tell me why you want to do this!”
“The war only helped me realize why I lived….why I had the strength to do what I did.”
“What?” she was so confused. What was happening!
“I may tell you one day What, but not tonight.” He went after his sister as she ran, her glossy curls flowing from behind as she went to guard her daughter, not knowing he had already disposed of her. “Don’t run, Sis! You wanted to know why, right?” it was almost hysterical, his voice, as well as dark. She was all over the house, running and hiding and trying to get away with no avail.
He came and looked at the beyond petrified lady and studied her, just standing there as he soaked in her fear and the scene itself. “You shouldn’t worry about her, you know. I took care of her before I came to you.” There was a simple nonchalant smirk there now, as he pinched some fabric from his vest and undershirt coated in blood, giving the explanation in that single motion.
The horror on her face couldn’t be furthered then, tears flooded her cheeks as she sank to the floor, knowing no one could help. “What have I done, Troy? Tell me….”
“Simple. You live.” Troy slashed her stomach and stuck the knife in to kill the baby first. He had a story for Natalie, and it would be no good if she didn’t hear it. His sister’s screaming made his body feel stronger and more alive than any of the love she could have provided.
“Now, I think I need to explain myself…don’t you? I mean, out of common courtesy since you seem to be dying to know. I wanted to keep it to myself, actually, but again, if it makes you cry….I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
Natalie was in too much shock and pain to speak, and looked at her brother, betrayed and crying. “Now, once upon a time…….Oh I remember you always enjoyed these kinds of stories….” he began, as if he were a narrator and with a jolly voice. “There was a family that had everything. There was a mother, and a father with two darling children. One day he left without even saying goodbye to his son, and when the son got old enough, he went out searching for him to see what had gone wrong. Sound familiar?”
Natalie then understood what he meant. This was him. Their family!
“Good, I see you get the idea so far, so lets continue before you die off to fast.” clearing his throat and looking at the bloody knife run against his fingertip, he continued the story. “Where was I? Oh yes, the boy went searching for his father to get answers as his little sister slaved over their sick mother. Only, he found him alright. Apparently he left his family for a younger lady, someone who could provide him with more pleasure in life than he could find in his old house! He ran home to check on his sister and mother, only to have her die on him. Oh he had a great birthday! Don’t you think? A funeral, and on top of it all- he was ALONE! He swore to mother that he’d make sure his sister had a good life and lived long with happy days, and he did just that. What neither of them anticipated was good old DADDY coming back to kill them after his son embarrassed him in front of THE WHOLE GOD DAMN TOWN! Well, the kid fought with the father- which isn’t very nice- and almost died protecting his little sister from who knew what kind of torture! I think that part is so selfless, hm?”
Natalie could only cry, seeing how she had failed her brother this whole time.
“Oh, don’t give me that face….I’m not through yet! It gets so much better!” Troy told her, squatting down before her on the floor. “He shot his daddy, but he wasn’t done yet. No, then he made sure he would never hurt him and his little sister ever ever again. The guilt drove him mad, and the war helped nurture it into what became impossible to cure!” He let a hand take his sister’s cheek, as if to be loving, but not at all with the intention of it. “So do you see it now, Sis?”
“I’m sorry….” she whispered as blood trickled down the corners of her mouth. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Tro-” He took the knife from her stomach and put it into her chest. Death was coming quick.
Something else snapped, and he was like he truly was back then. What did he do? Tears ran down his face by the thousands, it seemed. “Natalie…Oh God…I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do this! Please believe me!” The knife was on the floor and he covered himself further in his sister’s as he took the hand closest to him. “How could I ever want to hurt you? You’re my sister!”
“Troy…” she said, hardly able to speak. “I know, I know…..I knew you- were in there….somewhere.” There wasn’t a place the blood wasn’t now. “I pray you find forgiven-ess….brother.” Gone. Nothing left, and through his frustration, it was like the new him clicked back on again, ecstatic as he bathed in the blood. That night, Troy Dillinger no longer existed…..he was dead, and a new being arose. A demon with no other need but the kill.
Cue.