fifteen

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fifteen

Jude fell deep into the silence of Noah's former home. It was dark and quiet — apart from a subtle thud that came from behind a closed door at the end of the hall. Cautiously stepping on the toes of his boots, he narrowed closer to the door before he caught a glimpse of another room that was abandoned and forgotten. With the pause of his steps, the creaking of the floorboards quieted. This room was lit with sunlight, however, a darkened aura painted the once bright walls once he noticed the sight of a dead boy sprawled on the bed with his insides torn to pieces.

Blinking away the sight, Jude stepped into the room carefully. Looking around with a solemn feeling in his chest, his gaze fell on the small, hidden, jack n jill bathroom in the corner. Suddenly, against his control, the unhealed wound on his hip pulsated with a painful sensation. Risking a small glance over his shoulder, he tiptoed to the bathroom and dropped the gun to the skin before his fingers immediately went to work on the medicine cabinets and its contents. He picked up a few different bottles before he came across aspirin. Reading the label, he decided that it would do for the pain, however, he wasn't quick enough to close the cabinet before his eyes landed on something a lot stronger — a practical death sentence. Curiously snuck in and murdered the feigning cat he was and he reached up, against better judgement, and grabbed his mighty treasure.

He twisted the orange prescription bottle between his fingertips. The pills inside rattled a death threat, singing a melody that begged for him to put it down and step away, but Jude was deaf to the warnings. Infact, he heard a completely different symphony as he read the label. 

"OxyCotin." Bingo.

He could already feel the ache in his hip dull before he even popped the top off and threw two to the back of his throat, swallowing them dry with nothing but the dehydrated flesh behind his lips.

Ditching the aspirin, Jude shoved the OxyCotin into his pocket and hurried out of the bath — completely unaware of the cracked door that gave access to another bedroom.  He stepped into the hall where he heard the subtle thud coming from behind the closed door once again. Raising the barrel of his gun, the boy pressed against it silently, ear against the wood as he eavesdropped in.

The thudding stopped, bringing the hall back to its deadly silence. The hairs on the back of Jude's neck perked to a stand. He waited a moment longer, subconsciously leaning closer to the door. In this action, his boot found a hollow floorboard that sent an echoing eeek through the hallway.

The second next, something was thrown against the door from the inside — immediately followed by a chorus of snarls. Nearly tripping over his own two feet, Jude pushed back in a startled.

"Jude . . !"

Light, frantic, footsteps rounded the corner. Prim, with wide eyes, stared up at the boy in panic. "Are you — what the hell happened?"

Jude didn't respond with nothing more than a huff. His hands, now a little sweatier than normal, found the fabric of his jeans, anxiously wiping them from their dampness.

"How many brothers did Noah say he had?"

Prim, with her shoulders still tensed, swallowed. "Two . . they were twins." Two twin brothers, both fifteen — both her age.

He paused. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"I think I found them." Jude stepped out of the doorway, revealing the bedroom that he had just exited. Prim, hesitance brewing within her, moved closer to peak in, however, she quickly regretted her decision when her eyes fell on the mutilated body of Noah's brother — one of them.

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