STILL

Chapter thirty

"Phew! Getting into her was easier than getting into you." He wiped away his sweat. Markus saw the demon in his mother's body... It was terrifying. The woman who nurtured and loved him his whole life was now possessed by the one thing that ruined his life.
"Ironic since you're a lot taller." He walked up to Markus who laid on the floor.

"I love fair games," He paused. "You being in this condition isn't exactly fair," He muttered.

"I'll give you a good deal." He grabbed the knife. "If you make it out of that door before I finish counting I'll let you live," he said as he sat on bloody mattress. "I'll just kill a snail or something, I don't know yet." He said as he wiped the blood off the knife with Lena's covers.

"Both you and your mom curse a lot, must be a family thing." Aquilla watched Markus struggle as he crawled out of his corner.

"Now... Shall we begin?" His smirk got just a little wider. Markus crawled with everything in his power.

"Ten." Aquilla said.

"Nine." He watched Markus crawl in agony.

"Eight." Markus's feet were too heavy, he dragged his body on the floor with his arms, his blood leaked through his legs but the adrenaline numbed the pain.
"Seven." He shot a look at Lena's body, he felt sorry for what he had done, but those were his rules, he had to follow them or else.

"Six." Markus looked at the light outside the room as he pushed his body on the cold floor.

"Five." The demon stood over Markus as he crawled.

He watched his arms dig into the wooden floor, his presistance was astonishing.
If you want to see a man give it all he has, put them at the businesses end of a life or death deal. Aquilla thought to himself.

"Four." Markus got closer to the door. His hands were too weak to carry him. Tears built up in his eyes, he was so close yet so far.

What do I have to live for? He thought to himself. He shrugged off all these thoughts for one specific thought: If I make it out of this, I will kill this motherfucker.

"Three." Closer.

"Two." Markus saw the light hit his fingertips.

"One." Markus stretched out his hand out of the door. Markus felt chills run down his spine as he tried to push himself out of the door before Aquilla gets to him. Despair took over, his cries were loud and filled with pain.

"You." Aquilla bent his back, he got his face closer to Markus. Markus's felt his mother's -Aquilla's- cold unsettling breathe on the back of his head.

"Are," He felt Aquilla's knee push his back down.
"Slow," he whispered slowly in his ear.

"Please," Markus cried. "Please let us go." He burried his face in hardwood. Suddenly all the pain rushed into his body, everything ached him, but the thing that hurt the most was waiting for the blade in Aquilla's grip.

"You were so close!" The demon yelled.

"All you needed was a small push." He pressed harder with his leg. "Hell, half of your head is already at the door frame." He pushed Markus's head right at the stiff wooden frame.

"No-no." Markus squirmed under Aquilla's hand, the same hand that gently brushed against his cheeks now pushed them into the wooden frame.

"Remember how mommy used to measure you by the door frame to see how much you've grown?" He scratched at the door frame above Markus's head.

"Please," he cried.

"Let's measure how far this knife can go through your head." Aquilla pushed Markus's nose to the floor with his hand as he heard him beg for his life.

"No! No!" He sobbed and cried. 

I beg you leave him, take me instead! Take me instead! Take me you fucking coward leave him alone! Please!

Melissa's voice rushed through Aquilla's head like a fly flying too close to his ears. He shut his eyes closed and focused on what he was there to do; play the turn.

He pulled his arm back and slammed it through the side of Markus's head fully cracking his skull. He pushed the knife deeper until he heard the knife knock onto the wooden frame.

"That'll leave a Mark." He laughed as he pulled the knife out with ease.

He got off Markus's body and stood out of the door frame as he admired both dead siblings. His laugh echoed through the hall. Markus's blood pooled under his cheeks, his flare was gone.

Aquilla fell to his knees as he crawled out of Melissa's body, he made his way out and shifted to his human form almost immediately.

Melissa looked at the massacre before her, she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry but she just couldn't. She had no power in her, she had no hope, nothing to live for.

She made her way to her son's dead corpse, her shaky hands toched the crack in his skull, she hoped this was just a nightmare, oh what she would give for it to just be a nightmare.

She gasped for air before she finally let out a head splitting scream. It was filled with too much pain, too much suffering, like it was trapped there for years collecting heartbreaks.

She sobbed over her dead son, tears streamed down her face and mixed with his blood.

"Why?" the mother let out a faint cry. She heard his footsteps behind her as they made their way down the stairs.

"Why do you do this!" She turned around to see Aquilla standing at the edge of the stairs with a frown. If she didn't know better she'd say he was sad.
"Why do you do this?" She asked once again, except this time her voice was filled with pain, pain nobody could ever fathom.

She watched his face... so calm and expressionless. Her tears fell like a water fall as her body grew weaker and weaker. They both heard the sirens in the distance as they approached her house.

"Pro-tip." He stopped before going down the stairs. "Tell the police the truth." He shrugged. "It's better to live as the crazy psychopath than not to live at all." She felt the pain in his voice as he said the last line, as if he never wanted to do what he does.

However, if that was the case, he wouldn't enjoy it so much. He swung the door open only to disappear as the police officers approached the door.

Melissa sat before her daughter's bedroom drenched in blood and tears. She watched Markus's blood drop like raindrops on a window onto the cold floor, that was the last thing Melissa saw before her own head slammed against the floor.

The muffled voices of the officers at that time meant nothing to her; that night she lost her children. She lost a part of herself and a part of her husband. She was all alone.

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