Jake's Secret

CHAPTER ONE

“Don’t touch me!” Jake growled hoarsely as Clarkson Andover placed a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I don’t want to go NEAR the stench of your existence!  Now MOVE before I tear you to pieces!” Andover was unimpressed, but brought his fingers down at the request. There was no point in wasting time.

Jake struggled against the chains that secured him to the wall and attempted to lounge, his eyes blazing hot with anger. “Now, you LET ME GO, or else I’ll contact Glenson! I still have emergency backup!” he threatened – arms tense against the encasing. Andover laughed, pacing to the opposite side of the cell. “They removed all communications from you,” he chortled, “You can’t bully me with pathetic excuses.”

Andover gestured to the three blank-faced women at the end of the hallway, flicking his hand in one brief motion. With quick obedience they came into view, holding a strange suitcase.

“Now Jacob Corbett,” Andover said, “You are going to tell me everything I want to know.”

“Never,” the boy seethed, still fighting the metal chains. They jangled hauntingly in the emptiness of the stone cell, louder than before.

“You will,” Andover said simply, opening the suitcase with a now gloved hand. Jake’s eyes widened at the contents inside, his face growing sun-red from adrenaline and fear. No no no no no no! It was impossible, yet there was the Shycrell, glowing faintly green inside the syringe. This couldn’t be happening! He had destroyed all of it! Right?

“Are you ready to spill those dirty little secrets of yours?” Andover smiled broadly, his face wrinkling from the express of emotion – something he rarely did.

Jake’s shook, fighting to escape, but his screams of the pain to come went unheard. There was nothing to do. It was as if he was already dead.

Raine Corbett struggled to pull on the tightly fitted black dress, growling as her feet got caught in the material. She fell over, landing on the carpeted floor with a THOODF, as bright red hair blew over her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid! In spite of her pride, Raine let out a mangled cry and covered her face with shaky hands.

Black was a stupid color. Funerals were stupid ceremonies. Crying was stupider. Everything was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

That was the worst thing she could think of without swearing. Today was too important of a day to ruin it with an ugly word. Besides, Jake had always said cursing never got anyone anywhere. Jake.

Her throat choked on the thought of her older brother.

“RAINE!” Aunt Emily called out, peering around the corner into the dressing room. Red puffy circles darkened her flushed face and only added to the already ghoulish look. So, her hard-as-stone young aunt had already cracked the tears.

“Coming,” Raine muttered back, pulling the skirt from her feet. Ugh, the STUPID thing was STUPIDLY annoying! Teetering, she finally managed to readjust it to fit her thin figure. She glanced one more time at herself in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” Aunt Emily breathed from the back of the room, eyes bright.

“Black is never beautiful,” Raine countered, and rushed from the room before the two of them could get into another sappy conversation about growing up. It was torturous enough to watch people she hardly knew sob over her brother. He was too special to merely be respected by just anyone. Kicking up her heals stubbornly, she raced through the kitchen.

The current newspaper lay on the counter.

BOY COMMITS SUICIDE ON PRYDE STREET

The words stung into her eyes and she tore the sheet, shoving it into the trashcan. Jake would never commit suicide. It was a horrible, dirty, twisted, awfully untrue…