Chapter 5
Kylie yanked me by the arm so hard I stumbled.
“What tricks are you pulling now? You burned Trevor–apologize immediately!”
I slowly looked up.
My voice, unused for so long, came out rough, like sandpaper scraping across stone.
“He burned me first.”
As I spoke, I lifted my hand, blistered and covered in angry red welts. The sight was shocking.
Kylie’s pupils contracted. Her expression froze.
“This… how did this happen?”
She turned to grab the first aid kit, but Trevor suddenly seized the hem of her coat in a death grip, his knuckles turning white.
Nicholas’s POV
“Don’t… don’t go…” Trevor’s voice shook so badly he could barely get the words out.
His face had gone ghost–white, like he’d just seen something crawl out of his nightmares.
Kylie leaned down and patted his arm gently, her voice soft and sweet. “Be good. I’ll be right
back.”
Her footsteps echoed up the stairs, each fading until the house went dead quiet.
The only sound left was the hissing and sputtering of the three bloated ‘fountain sculptures‘ still dripping in the yard.
I stepped toward Trevor, slow and steady, watching him like he was prey that hadn’t figured it out
yet.
I tilted my head and smiled.
“Now,” I said, my voice low, “it’s just the two of us.”
Trevor’s pupils shrank down like pinholes. His body went stiff, and then he started to shake all
over.
“Ah!” he shouted, shoving me back and slamming himself into the wall with a loud thud.
‘You’re not Cameron! He never smiled like that!”
I kept my head tilted, studying his terrified face like it was the most interesting thing in the room.
‘Then tell me,” I asked, “who do you think I am?”
Right on cue, the TV behind me crackled to life.
A burst of static, then a voice came through the speakers:
‘The escaped patient is described as follows-”
And there it was.
My face, plastered across the screen.
Trevor’s eyes snapped to it, and his expression shifted. The fear didn’t leave, but it changed shape–turned sharper, like he wasn’t just scared anymore.
9:20 pm G DDD.
He was starting to understand.
He dove behind the couch and came up swinging, a baseball bat in his hands.
“I don’t care who the hell you are!” he roared.
The bat cracked against the side of my head before I could move.
My vision exploded into stars. Pain ripped through my skull, and warm blood started trailing down the side of my face.
Trevor stood over me, panting hard. The bat trembled in his hands, yet he was now grinning weakly, as if he finally felt in control.
‘You and that disgusting freak Cameron? You’re the same,” he snarled. “Both useless pieces of trash.”
The blood in my eyes turned everything into a blur, but even through the haze, I could see his face as clear as day.
Then came the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs.
Kylie burst in, frantic, but Trevor moved fast. He gave the bat a quick kick so it slid right to my feet, smeared my blood across his face, and dropped like a sack of bricks to the floor.
‘Kylie..” Trevor gasped, his voice barely holding together. “He… he hit me…”
And right on cue, like it was all part of a script, he passed out cold.
Kylie dropped to the floor beside him, scooping him up like he was made of glass. She looked at me like I was filth tracked into her perfect little world–eyes blazing, jaw tight.
‘Cameron! You’re beyond saving!”
Then she barked out the following command like she owned the damn place. “Get the fuck out and kneel in the yard! We’ll deal with you once Trevor wakes up!”
Kylie hauled him up and made a beeline for the front door.
Then, she slammed it with all her force.
t didn’t budge. Not even a click.
stood there, wiping the blood from my face. My vision was drenched in red. The copper tang of
t filled my mouth, and everything around me seemed quieter than it should’ve been.
Then I laughed.
t tore out of me, sharp and raw, like rusted metal scraping glass.
‘What the hell are you laughing at?!” Kylie turned fast, her voice rising with panic now.
‘Open the door. Now!”
tilted my head and just looked at her.
Her confidence was starting to crack, and watching that fear creep in?
It was marvelous.
While dealing with those ‘sculptures‘ out back, I turned off the security system for a few minutes.
Quiet, clean, thorough. The kind of thing you do when you know no one’s walking out.
This door? It was locked tight. No key. No override.
After My Beatboro Traxio fe
9:21 pm G
Blood dripped from my chin now, each drop hitting the floor and blooming into little red flowers
on the wood.
“This door.” I said, licking the blood from the corner of my mouth, “No one’s opening it today.”
Kylie’s face went pale.
“Cameron! I don’t have time for your psychotic games! Trevor’s unconscious!”
She was shouting, full–on losing it now.
I stepped forward and grabbed Trevor, still playing dead, by the hair. I yanked hard, dragging him out of her arms like pulling weeds from the ground.
He didn’t stay quiet after that.
Trevor screamed, loud and shrill.
I laughed and clapped my hands like I’d just seen a magic trick.
“Look at that! He’s awake after all.”
Trevor snapped, voice cracking with rage. “How dare you treat me like this?! Kylie, call someone! Get this lunatic locked up!”
She fumbled for her phone, about to dial, but I was faster.
I quickly took the phone from her hand, seized Trevor’s as well, and headed straight for the large landscaping stone by the door.
I slammed them both down.
Two phones, reduced to plastic and glass splinters.
I turned back around, head tilted, that same smile spread across my face–too wide, too calm.
‘Be good now,” I said, my voice low and steady, almost playful.
‘No one’s coming to save you. It’s just us… and the game’s only just getting started.”
Kylie swung at me, her hand flying at my face.
‘You’re completely fucking insane!” she yelled.
I caught her fist mid–air like it was nothing. My fingers closed around it, slow and steady, feeling every twitch of bone under skin. I wanted to hear it crack. I wanted to feel it give.
She dropped, just like I knew she would. Her knees hit the floor, and she curled around her hand, whimpering like a kicked dog.
I said nothing and just dragged them both over to the dining chairs.
They didn’t put up much of a fight after that. Fear does that to people. Makes them soft. Makes them easy.
I tied them down nicely and tightly, ensuring the knots would hold.
I checked twice–always do. I wanted them to feel how permanent this was.
They weren’t going anywhere.
The soup on the stove kept bubbling, soft and calm. Steam curled up into the air–lazy, warm, almost gentle.
It was ready.
