Hunted

Chapter 22: To Capture A Queen

*Jason's POV*

"Where is she?!" I yelled, the students shifting back in their seats.

"I think-"

"No one cares what you think, Frank," I tell him, annoyance over his constant jabbering.

"But-" he never continued his thought as I pulled the trigger on my side arm. One kid screamed as the gun went off, and we watched as Frank fell flat on to the floor.

I took a deep breath before addressing the others in the room, "That is what happens when you annoy me. Now if anyone else has anything to say-" my words were cut off by the chime of the announcements.

"Hello Jason," her voice rang through the cafeteria, "So, you want to play a game?"

My wicked smile grinned at how easily she had given herself up, "You two, come with me."

Hannah Wright and Marcus followed me out of the room and into the hallway as I listened to my sister's voice.

"You gave me an ultimatum. Save myself or save my friends. Well I've made my decision," I sped up with anticipation over finally ending this, rounding the corner into the main hallway, "You have tortured me for years, both physically and mentally, killing everyone I care for. Well no more. You want me, than you are going to have to find me."

Her voice paused as we entered the office.

"You see, you may have been able to plan all of this, but you underestimated me. You forgot to have someone watch the exit near the girl's locker room, and I have already gotten students out. Megan should be with the cops right now, bringing them here."

"No one kills her, she is mine," I ordered my minions. The sight of trailed blood gave me no pause as I charged into the principal's room.

The room stood empty, except for the two gashed bodies, Silver was nowhere in sight, "Oops, guess you were wrong. Looks like you're out of time."

"It's a recording," Hannah said, as she lifted the phone that had been plugged into the microphone.

"Where is she?" I asked, my anger rising in the thought of losing her again, "Where is she?!"

*Silver's POV*

We crept around the corner as I heard Jason run towards the office in search of me.

My voice radiated through the building as we snuck into the cafeteria, where Jason had taken the students he was holding hostage.

I thought back to the man who had started this series of horrors. To the one who had created both the serial killer in my brother and the shell of a person I had become...

...It seemed like a dream filled with horror and carnage. My father stood in front of me, staring down at the table. He didn't make a move to free me. He didn't try to rescue me. After the shock filled my numb body, I realized that he wasn't here to save me.

"Are you here to kill me?" my voice came out raspy from the lack of water and excessive screaming I have endured.

"No my sweet child," he whispered quietly, while slowly placing his hand against my head. A gesture I had once found soothing, but now only brought disgust, "I am here to make you see who you are."

"I don't understand," I spoke back.

"I know you don't," he said. His eyes looked broken, but not at the atrocity of what was happening to his daughter. It was as if I was disappointing him. He bent closer to my face, "Just remember you are part of this family."

He pulled back as I questioned him with my look, "I don't understand. Dad! What are you doing?"

He turned his back to me and gave Jason a nod of his head.

"Time to begin again," Jason spoke as he pulled out a new set of blades as my father turned to walk to the stairs.

"Wait! Please!" I yelled after him.

He paused for a second and turned around. I looked into his eyes and saw no love. No admiration. No recognition that I was his daughter. His eyes were bright with amusement, "Break her."

"Yes sir."

Jason began to dig again into my skin. My screams filled the small hole, echoing off the cement walls that surrounded my prison.

I was trapped by the very people who were supposed to care for me. My own family became the monsters I used to watch on television...

... I shook my mind of the thoughts of my father, trying to focus on the task at hand.

In the middle of the room, Dylan had pulled his knees to his chest as he sat in the puddle. His face and body was drenched in the blood of others. Two students from the club lay beside his feet, unable to move from the cold floor.

I ran over to his still form. Dylan watched me with his shocked eyes, "I'm getting you out of here," I quickly told him as I reached for his arm to haul him up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice came from the door.

Jason stood in the doorway. Ryan was pressed against Hannah Wright as she held the barrel of her gun to his temple.

I pushed Dylan behind me, away from the sight of my brother's gun.

"Well, I will say, it was a nice attempt to trick me," he applauded, his face turning sour, "But did you really think it was going to be that easy?"

"None of this has been easy," I spoke.

"No, I guess not," he mocked, "But it has been fun."

"You're a psychotic bastard."

"But I wasn't always," he said, his sly smile the same as I once remembered it.

I felt Dylan move closer to my back, his hand resting on the gun under my shirt. All I had to do was distract Jason.

"You cannot blame your wrongs on him," I said as Dylan moved a half step to my right, the gun in hand, "Was this your entire plan," I attempted to mock, "Get into the school and shoot everyone."

"Not entirely," he began to walk to the side of the room, to the glass windows shining in the afternoon sun, "You see, this plan has been set for a very long time. I can say I have made some tweaks. All it took was a few trustworthy people."

"Trust, you don't trust anyone," I said with confusion on to why he would bring this up.

"A trait you should really acquire."

I felt it before my mind could process what happened. The round metal tube of the chamber pressed against my head. The trigger mere inches from my hand. The gun being held by him.

Dylan stood there, a mirror grin of the one my always wore down in that basement. His eyes dead from any love they had once held. A killer in disguise.