Chapter 2

A Chapter by skiiish367

Feon has an encounter with bitter reality

Feon was only halfway off the bed when they first came. Dressed in armor he'd only ever seen in the comics. They were prepared.

That was the first thing he'd noticed. Of course there was the front door being burst open, and the sound of his mother waking up to the commotion. And boy was it an ugly sound. The old hag had been sprawled across the carpet floor, and with a gurgle she lurched upwards puking her guts out onto one of the armoured men.

The man curled his lip in disgust, and his foot flailed up in an attempt to shake the woman off his leg.

Feon snorted, and he let out a bark. It would've been funnier if he hadn't been forced onto the ground, arm shoved behind his back.

"Stay calm. We are here to help. Stay calm," one of the armors spoke. Helmet so far down their face, it seemed impossible to tell if they were a woman or a man. Even the heavy glass that had been plated in front the eyes, were reflective to the point it hurt. Secretive.

That was the second thing Feon noticed.

A sharp uncomfortable pain ran up the length of his arm as the armor pulled tighter at his wrists. With a groan, he shifted to the side only to be slammed to the ground. Harder this time.

"Calm down!" The voice thundered again. "We are only here to help."

"Here to help, my a*s," he muttered under his breath.

"Repeat what you said," it boomed again, voice hardly human, more mechanic, auto tuned as it passed through the helmets.

"I-I just wanted to know if my mama was alright, s-sir," he lied, whimpering.

There was an awkward silence for a moment before the armor got off him, and stood up, defense still high.

Feon acted.

Curling up into a ball, he made sure to point out that his feet were bare he was in his pajamas, and they'd hurt his arm. "I-I..w-what's going o-on?" He sniffled cradling his injured arm, rocking back and forth slowly.

The armor that had held him down seemed to show some pity and reached down to help him up, when his a*****e of a buddy showed up.

Feon yelped, blinding pain running up the side of his head. That f****r.

Tears leaking, and arms shaking, he curled up on his spot of the ground, keeping up with the act. He covered his head with both hands trying to calm the pain down. It bruise, but atleast it wouldn’t be bleeding.

"What the f**k, Mason!" the armor that'd injured his arm spoke, shoving at the other guy away from his aching body.

The one called Mason grunted, before shoving the other back. "Lighten down, Mich, it doesn't matter. It's not like it can feel. It's disgusting...these wretched creatures."

That made Feon confused...creatures? What were they on about? Mich and Mason....that were their names.

"We don't know if they are infected yet! He's just a boy!"

"You're right...just a boy," Mason forced out. "Then it wouldn't matter if I shoot him here and now would it? After all..he is just another boy."

That earned Mason a knee to the groin. Leon snorted. Served him right. "Shut the f**k up, Mason."

"You b***h!" Mason screams, grabbing at Mich's collar, and slamming him into the wall. "What the f**k?!"

Mich only lets himself be dragged up the wall like a rag doll, and for a moment Feon thinks that he's lost. Only for a moment.

With the swing of his right leg, Mich lands a blow to Mason's helmet, hearing a sickening crack, and leaps onto the man, taking him down to the ground.

Feon swears, he could almost see the sadistic smile that he could promise was painting Mich's face. He could tell. The blood lust was practically radiating from the man that he'd seemingly thought was better than the other.

And then the screaming starts. "NO NO!! YOU F****R! YOU F*****G F**K! I'LL GET INFECTED...YOU F**K. NO!" Mason screeched rolling around on the floor trying to cover up the cracks in his helmet, as though he could hold the falling pieces in place.

"GET ME A NEW HELMET!!! MICH PLEAsE...F**K F**K NO!...I CAN'T-F**K PLEASE-"

Feon froze, blood running cold as an eye came to view through the broken glass. Eyes so wide, that it almost reminded him of his father, when he was angry. Pupils shaking in his sockets, going almost crazy. Unly torrents of tears running down the only little patch of white, pale skin he could see. So...pale. F**k. The sight was disturbing. It wasn't even him in the helmet, and he was shaking.

"No..no no no no no...please Mich..NO NO...YOU CAN'T...you can't," the last words coming out as a hushed whisper.

'Can't what?'

That's when the realization, that this was real, came to Feon. All his life...he'd been waiting for this. He'd been ready. With protocols...emergency packs ready stuffed with canned food and flashlight. The training he did in the rookie gyms. The street brawls. The hacking. All...all to get to this...but now it seemed different.

Now...he was scared. His heart thundering so loudly he was afraid it might just rip right out of his chest. This was real...this was actually happening. He was actually going to watch somebody die right now. Get killed right before his eyes and not be able to do anything. It was nothing like the video games. There would be no second chances...no extra lives.

And that was the third thing Feon noticed.

Just like there won't be for poor Mason.

And so he stood frozen in place, only able to stutter a quiet, "s-stop."

Only Mich didn't stop. He pulled an almost knife like metal out from the hidden sockets in his armor and grabbed the flailing man's head by chin. Arm wrapping around the back of his neck, and underneath his chin, to force a lock.

"N-no..please..." The man begged, voice cracking with the filter inside, sounding broken, and then it seemed something snapped inside Mason. It seemed he'd realized his fate. There was no changing Mich's mind. "..you f****r. SON OF A BITC-"

Feon didn't blink as the deafening sound of the knife thrusting through the man's eyes filled his ears. Screams filled his head, and he wrenched back into the corner of the room, trying to get away from the scene. The...the horror.

Mason wasn't the one screaming. Infact, Mason hadn't made much of a sound, except for a gurgle that sounded much like his mother when she's puked all over the armor's shoes. Feon was the one screaming. He was drowning in his own screams. Eyes fixated on Mich, as he pulled the knife out and flicked it a little, trying to get the blood off. It ended up splattering across the only clean white wall that they had.

Mason's body fell. Limp, and cold. The blood looking black in the shadow of the helmet. Soon enough, the helmet was overflowing, blood spilling out from the cracked area, along with some white flesh. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know. If Mason didn't die from that stab wound, he'd probably have drowned in his own blood by now.

"Ugh...filthy."

Feon looked up at the man in horror. He felt nauseous. How could he kill some in such cold murder and then act like it was nothing.

He flinched when Mich's helmet turned towards him. "Ah...sorry you had to see that. He won't hurt you no more. Don't worry, sweetheart," the man coed in sickening sweetness, words dripping from his tongue like poisoned honey.

Feon didn't speak. He couldn't speak. Saliva bubbled up in his mouth, and he swallowed dryly. "Y-you..k-killed. Yo-u..."

A chuckle left the man. "Oh yeah...don't worry, he can always be replaced. But you my dear, you cannot. You are important. To humanity. To me."

Feon wasn't listening. Replaced? The word kept running through his head. How can he talk about someone in such a demeanor? That was sickening. Twisted.

Mich was twisted.

Beyond belief and as two big hands reached for him, he recoiled biting the gloved hand, scrambling to his feet and making a run for it. He sprinted down the hall, and locking himself in the bedroom.

"S**t s**t s**t..." He muttered, hearing banging at the door.

His breath quickened, as he scrambled through his closet. "Shoes shoes shoes...c'mon. C'mon..please"

It all seemed like a hopeless attempt. There was no window to escape from...no shoes...his backpack was kept in the hidden basement underneath the carpet in the laundry room, his mother was as good as dead, and the door didn't look like it'd hold much longer.

With shaking hands, he made a grab from the lamp. A little taller than him. Strong, and from what he's seen before, probably capable to breaking the others. The pole slipped down his sweaty fingers a little, and bottom lip quivering in fear.

The banging had stopped...and Feon knew he was coming. On three he figured.

And there it was. The thumping of his heart.

Ba dump.

Had he always been this vulnerable? He felt so...exposed. Open. Like anything could touch him. Hurt him. And in a way it could. Feon was no stranger to pain, or to hurt, but this was so much different from his father.

This was real. Something he couldn't just close his eyes and pretend it wasn't there or wish it away.

The silence was deafening, and with every second that passed by, he felt more and more distraught. More afraid. It was terror. Absolute agony, just waiting for the door to slam open.

Ba dump.

'Please...please,' he prayed, just like how Mason had did only moments before. Is this how Mason had felt? 'Plea-'

BAM!

Feon didn't have time to finish that thought as the door slammed open, wood shattering, splinters flying into the air, and Mich...oh god. Mich.

He swung at the man with the lamp, but it was too late. He was top slow...too petrified in fear as the lamo missed its target and slammed into the wall instead.

A hardbody slammed into his, knocking him into the ground, taking his breath away. Arms pulled behind their backs and locked uncomfortably into place with handcuffs.

"NO! LET GO! LET GO OF ME, YOU MONSTER!!" Feon yelped, screaming and thrashing about as the man slung his over his shoulder, dragging him out his room. "No!! YOU MURDERER! F****N' LET ME GO! YOU F****R..LET GO!! LET GO!!"

"Shut up."

And Feon did shut up, but didn't stop flailing his legs about, trying to land a kick or hit to the groin or anywhere at that. He only stilled when he came upon the sight of his drunken mother still sprawled across the floor, bathing in her vomit. Breathing. And alive.

And there was a slight moment of peace, watching his mother sleeping. Sleeping through it all. The shock she'd have when she woke up to the scene, and to know that Feon wasn't around to help her.

Oh f**k it.

He should know better. A part of him still fantasized his mother being devastated if he left, but reality always got upper hand. Just like it did now. His old hag was a b***h, and could hardly bother to give s**t about him. Either way he'd still miss her. B***h or no b***h.

One last look and he could no longer see his mother. Only the broken bottle that lay on the front porch. Rough hands dragged him to to a van just outside the house, shoving him in the back. The doors starting to close, and he didn't try to struggle. There was no point. Not yet. He gazed over at the sky, not yet blue, but beautiful nonetheless. The sunlight warm on his skin. The sky was inappropriate for the current situation. To his way of thinking, it should've churned and dumped needles of rain, thundering along the way. But he supposed this was nice too. Almost like a small ray of hope. It wasn't bad.

He took in a deep breath savoring the last bit of warmth before the doors closed shut, trapping him in the endless, black void of reality.

He knew that'd be the last he'd ever see of his mother.

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