William x Henry

Chapter 2

But why?

William was never more than Henry's best friend, and his best friend only when they were both married. Married to women.  Sure, Henry had missed William when he took days off work or went on vacations, but it seemed different now. Or was it? Did he just not notice before, not until it became a need to have William with him?

BEEP BEEP BEEP. The coffee was done. Henry walked back to the coffee machine, leaving his thoughts back by the picture. He poured the coffee in a thermos and threw it into the refrigerator. How he wished it was morning already, just so he could get up and have his cold-brew coffee.

Shutting the refrigerator door, Henry gave another glance to the picture and furrowed his brow. "I'll deal with getting rid of you tomorrow..." He grumbled. Slowly, he walked up the stairs of his house towards his bedroom. Tonight he was going to sleep deep, at least he hoped that was true.

He stored his clothes in a large walk-in closet, which he now stumbled his way into, trying to get in his night-clothes. Pulling his shirt over his head, he paused before grabbing his pajama shirt. He stared at the scar that went from his earlobe to his shoulder. Waxy and pale, cool to the touch, it was always the holder of a bad memory.

The scar was a memory of William.

Flashback a month and six days earlier

"YOU BASTARD. YOU KILLED HER. YOU KILLED MY DAUGHTER." Henry screamed, walking in a circle like lions about to pounce with William. It was almost a game of chicken. Who would act first? 

Wet tears streamed down Henry's already-wet face. The liquid that the tears met with wasn't more tears though, it was Charlie's blood. Charlie Emily's blood, covering his face and his hands and his clothes.

William cackled and tilted his head up in a jerking motion. "A bastard, am I Henry~? What of our friendship?" Rage made Henry's blood boil. This man dared say he was still Henry's friend. He clenched his fists.

"DON'T PRETEND YOU EVER CARED. YOU'RE A PSYCHOTIC FREAK. STAY AWAY FROM ME!" He yelled, moving back as William took a few careless steps forward, waving a hand around in which he held a knife. Suddenly, reality sunk in. Charlie was dead; Sammy was dead; William had killed his family.

William's eyes widened to give an impression of mock innocence. "Ah, old friend. I see you do not trust me like you used to..." Henry's knees gave out and he fell to the tile floor, his head in his hands, sobbing. Behind all of Henry's sadness and rage, he knew something was more off about William than just the knife and the blood and the teasing tone of his voice.

William's eyes... William's eyes were purple.

"I'll kill myself... I can't live with this, I'll kill myself." Henry said, loud enough for William to hear. To Henry's surprise, William's footsteps, which had been drawing nearer, came to a sudden halt. A voice sounded throughout the room. It was soft and untraceable, it came from everywhere but nowhere at the same time. "Henry, no."

Henry brought his head up to see William standing a few feet away, the knife held limply by his side. The soft voice had been William's, but William was about to kill him, why would he care if Henry killed himself? Other factors stood out to Henry that made it seem impossible that William had been the one to speak. William looked shocked as well, William shouldn't care if Henry killed himself, the voice didn't have the same evil tone in its voice.

It didn't add up, so Henry forgot about it and acted as though nothing had happened.

Henry reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket knife. "Henry!" He ignored the voice this time. Henry took the knife in his right hand and sliced himself from his ear down to his shoulder, deepening the cut with every inch.

Warm, red liquid spilt over Henry's hand, which was trembling as his yanked the knife from his body. His shirt was growing warmer, along with wetter. His vision had started closing in and the last thing he saw was William, his brown eyes back, lunging at Henry but with the knife behind him, clattering to the floor.