Meat Family

Chapter 7

Nightmares

Poor thing~

It was said that Hunter was a warrior of the monster that appeared thousands of years ago and plunged the world into damnation.

Hunter was supposedly an ally of the monster; he killed people even after the monster had rotted away under the earth. But why did he help it? What was his true motive?

No one knew, and no one cared; he was evil. This is one reason why Brock's family is labeled as evil, as if they were the same monster as Hunter.

Finally, Brock was able to take a warm shower and wash away all the dark thoughts from his mind. He felt very refreshed as he stepped out of the shower. He dried his orange hair with a white towel and looked into the mirror, which was slightly fogged, but he couldn't see Cursed. Thankfully, he was alone while showering, which he preferred.

After drying off, he put on a gray shirt and dark joggers. He brushed his still damp hair, trying to untangle the knots, which was painful. After brushing his teeth, he headed to his room. He hadn't really been in there all day, only briefly to drop off his suitcase. He opened the wooden door with a small sign that read "Brock" in orange paint with little oranges drawn beside it. He didn't even like oranges.

His room was at the end of the hall, so the ceiling was slanted like the roof, with a window placed there to see the sky. The walls were made of dark brown wood, and the floor was also wooden but with a slight red tone. A round green rug was on the floor. His bed was positioned right under the window; it was new, so the boards looked fresh. Opposite was his old desk, which his father had built himself. It was very practical, being quite large with extra small compartments for storing items. In the corner was a wooden chest that Brock didn't remember. Curiously, he opened it and discovered all his old toys; apparently, Mom had cleaned up. A few drawings by Sabine were hanging on the walls, otherwise, the room was empty. Much of it seemed to have been stored in the attic, or the twins had taken it. He sat down in his chair in front of his desk and took his laptop out of his backpack.

Then he remembered that he hadn't written to Ryan at all, which would make for an awkward conversation.

Not even a second after he went online, someone called him. Ryan.

Brock swallowed briefly before nervously answering the call. The first thing he saw was an annoyed Ryan glaring at him with anger.

His orange-haired friend nervously smiled: "I can explain..."

"Really? Do you have any idea how worried I've been!?" Ryan fumed, leaning closer to the camera.

By reflex, Brock leaned back in his chair: "I really didn't have time! I had a lot to catch up on, and then we went somewhere, and I completely lost track of time. I'm sorry."

His friend sighed slightly and leaned back from the camera: "It's okay, I was just worried. I was imagining you in a car accident, attacked by wolves, stabbed by a psycho killer on the run, or taken hostage, or—"

"Did you really think all that might happen to me?"

"Hey! The chances are never zero."

Brock chuckled but then asked: "Are you looking forward to math tomorrow?"

"Urghhh..." Ryan groaned as he picked up a notebook from the side. "Don't remind me. Math first period on a Monday morning, who thought of such a stupid idea? Without you, it's going to be even more exhausting. Maybe I'll just call in sick."

Brock unpacked a few notebooks from his backpack and then asked Ryan: "How's Jeremy?"

Ryan shrugged and glanced up from his notebook, his legs propped up on his chair so Brock could see his knees: "I haven't seen him since you left."