The Life As The Devil's Son

Chapter Two: The Impact of Resistance

I groggily opened my eyes, my vision blurry from sleep. The smell of smoke filled the air, instantly jolting me awake. Panic surged through me as I saw flames engulfing our house, dancing and crackling like a living beast. My heart raced in my chest as I noticed my brother lying on the floor, battered and bruised.

I ignored the danger, pushed through the burning room, and knelt beside him. "Blake, hold on; you'll be okay!" I shouted over the roaring fire.

His eyes shot open. He effortlessly jumped up onto his feet, and his eyes—oh God, his eyes—turned a freakish bright red as he glared at me. His teeth looked like they'd turned into sharp, white needles. It was like something out of a horror movie.

"You could've saved me, Austin, but you didn't because you're a coward," he accused as he marched toward me.

"You left me to die, and now you'll suffer as I did," he threatened, taking a menacing step closer. Each step he took towards me sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn't bear the sight of him in such a twisted state.

Fear gripped me, and I turned to flee in the opposite direction, my heart thundering in my chest. As I hurriedly ran, my foot caught on a large wooden floorboard, causing me to trip and fall to my knees, scraping them painfully. The pain was excruciating, and I wailed in agony as blood gushed out of my knee like a relentless waterfall.

I glanced back, expecting him to pounce on me like some demented creature, but my brother was still coming, and I knew I had to get out of there.

Finally, my eyes fluttered open, and I sucked in a gasp of air. My heart raced, and I could feel the sweat pouring down my forehead. It was just a damn dream, but it felt so real.

I turned to my side and saw my mom still sleeping peacefully in the corner. God, what a nightmare! It left me rattled and uneasy, like I couldn't trust my own mind.

I shook my head, attempting to shake off the haunting remnants of that terrible dream, but they clung to my mind like a stubborn ghost. My heart raced as I glanced around the dark, dismal cell, desperate to distract myself from the nightmares that had plagued my sleep.

Moving closer to the cold, iron cell door, I strained my ears to catch any sounds that might divert my thoughts. And then there it was—muffled voices echoing through the dimly lit corridor. I closed my eyes, focusing on the distant sounds and trying to decipher their meaning.

As the voices grew louder, I could finally make out the conversation.

"I need you to train the boy." One voice directed. My heart sank when I recognized the familiar British accent of Travis, my supposed father.

"Train him!? Are you crazy? The boy is obviously an amateur and a fraud." Another voice shouted. I clenched my fists, feeling my anger rising. I didn't appreciate being spoken about like some pawn in their twisted game.

Who are they to dictate my fate? I silently protested. I refused to be a mere pawn in their schemes, a puppet they could control. My determination solidified, and I knew that I had to find a way to break free from their grasp.

With a defiant spark in my eyes, I reaffirmed my resolve to stand up for myself, to take control of my destiny, and to prove to them that I was more than just an amateur or a fraud.

The voices outside might have thought they held power over me, but I was determined to show them that I was not so easily controlled.

I burst onto my feet as I heard approaching footsteps and took a step back from the cell door.

Then, like a dark specter emerging from the shadows, Travis appeared, his hands folded behind his back as he expressed a twisted smirk.

"Hello, son," he greeted me, his voice oozing with a sinister charm that sent a cold shudder through me.