The Town

Chapter 30: The End is Always Death

My muscles froze, but I forced my neck to turn. Blue eyes already widened with fear, lungs already refusing to take in air properly. I already knew who was behind me. The tormentor of my whole childhood, the man who contributed to my life, and who tried to take it so many times. My father.

An older version of me appeared in my view. He matched my height. Though his chocolate brown hair was cut short. His dark blue eyes narrowed in anger. His slim nose flared like a bull ready to charge. My muscles tensed more. I sputtered, unable to breathe. Fear, unbridled fear coursed through my veins. Memories of endless torture and pain replayed in my head, the corresponding scars lighting with pain at each memory.

With a flick of his wrist, he pushed me to the ground. I barely registered the pain in my butt and palms as I landed on small rocks and pebbles, my left hand even hitting and being cut on a large rock. I was frozen though. I could only watch with frightened eyes as he glared at me and rounded my sprawled legs.

"I'll deal with you soon," his deep voice echoed in the woods. "First, your little boytoy." He turned to Leo, who was equally scared but hid it better—only widened eyes relayed the fear. My father had one of those hackle-raising auras about him. "How many times did I tell you that faggots are the scum of the earth? And yet, here you are, cavorting with another man!"

He took one, menacing step towards Leo. Leo pulled a smaller-than-normal syringe from his hoodie pocket. A hardened glint to his eye.

"Sorry to refute," Leo spoke, voice hardly shaking, "but love is love. Why should it matter if I have a dick or not? No, I love Ari, just as he loves me. And you're just the asshole who torments him. Once you're gone, so much will be better."

Like a bull with a waving flag in front of him, my father charged forward. Arms out to tackle the short boy. With grace rarely seen, Leo twisted out of his path, spinning to stab him with the syringe. But he was too late. Recovering quickly, my father spun, smacking the syringe out of Leo's grasp. As the needle fell to the ground, Leo's shocked eyes slowly following its path, my father reached up and clasped his hands around Leo's neck.

With his inhuman strength, and Leo's light weight, he lifted a kicking Leo off the ground, squeezing tighter and tighter. Leo grabbed at his wrists and pulled, but it had little effect. I watched in horror as Leo's struggling kicks slowed, his muted and sputtering cries faded, and he reached out one hand in my direction, mesmerizing green eyes searching for me and going blank.

No... no, no, NO! Fury encased me. My muscles loosened, my breathing steadied. This asshole can hurt me, but they can NOT hurt the ones I love. Not my mother, and certainly not my partner! My vision went white. As I stumbled to my feet, my hand caught on the big rock. I picked it up, barely registering the blood covering a portion, and bounded forward.

With years worth of buried rage, I brought the rock down onto my father's head. He dropped Leo—my poor partner crumpling into a ball and gasping for breath—and reached up to shield himself, but I was faster. I hit him again, just as hard, just as angry. The tall man fell back, landing on his side.

I straddled his stomach and smashed him with the rock once more. Words were pouring out of my mouth, each punctuated with an enraged hit from my bloody rock. "YOU. CAN'T. HURT. HIM. YOU. CAN'T. HURT. ME. ANY. MORE!" Blood splattered against me, and small pieces of flesh fell from the rock to my legs.

Spindly arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me back just enough to not be able to reach the monster. "ri... Ari... Ari!" Leo's cries broke through my enraged haze. "He is gone!"

I froze, but this time examining the man, the body, beneath me. Under all the red fluid and mush of flesh and muscle, the skull was breaking revealing the tiniest bit of brain matter. His dark blue eyes were wide with horror, connecting to nothing, just gazing at the dirt. His mouth opened in a silent scream, the stench of unbrushed teeth leaking from it. I dropped the rock; it hit his head one last time before tumbling to the ground.