Noxious

Two - Lights Out

A/N: Play the song at the very end of the chapter!!!

     I'm not sure if it was insomnia or my self abhorrence, but I found my thoughts made it difficult to slip into the void of sleep – let alone a dreamless sleep. It was nearing 1:00 AM, and I found myself pitying Hubert's family. I do this after every kill, no matter how many years – or kills, for that matter – the guilt just finds a way to tear away at me. I allow it to.

     It reminds me that I'm still weak – that I'm still very much human – despite all the years of classical conditioning that would have made me think otherwise. And like the masochistic fuck that I am, I find myself heading back towards the compound before my scheduled return.

     The drive was silent and rapid, as no one was out in the dead of night during the weekdays. There was nothing but mind numbing silence and the low purr of my engine. As I drove down the isolated road that led up to the security gate, the familiar cold sensation of dread seeped in and found its residence in my bones. The guards – it was the same guys from yesterday – waved me in without the slightest bit of hesitation.

     The drive up the winding slope of the hill to Don Kyriakidis' mansion was slow and antagonizing. I picked up the pace and found a spot in the garage. Grabbing all the files and drives that I had taken from Hubert's home, I dumped them into a plain, black messenger bag. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I trudged into the main house.

     For once, there was yet a hustle and bustle throughout the place. I assume anyone who had the privilege of sleeping within these walls was getting every wink of sleep they could before "work hours". Autopilot took over as I schlepped myself down the familiar path to my room. Memories flooded my mind once more as I drew closer to that door. I paused as I stood just a foot away.

     It was the same as all the other doors, nothing distinguishable about it in fact, but it couldn't be more different. I reached for the brass knob, hesitating at its cool feel beneath my touch. Whatever warmth remained within me dissipated at that moment. Slowly turning the knob, I felt my grasp on the present slip. I crossed the threshold and was instantly an eleven-year-old boy.

     Bruises covered my body, and my eye was swelling shut. I staggered into the room and dropped before I could even reach my bed. Today was one of the bad days; he was losing his temper with me.

     "Well who cares!" I grumbled into the carpet my face was mushed in. "I never wanted to be here anyway." My voice grew hoarse and if I could blink, I would have blinked away my tears.

     "You shouldn't let the Don hear you say that, you brat." Slater snarled at me from what I assume is the doorway. "He would think that you were being ungrateful that he spared your life, took you in, and tried to better you."

     Silence stretched between us. If it weren't for the fact that Slater had just brutally kicked my ass – as per the Don's request – I would have had the energy to throw something at him. But I was weak now, but soon – soon I would be able to take him, then the Don. They'll pay for what they did, I'll make sure of it.

     Blinking rapidly, I returned to the present and those unbidden memory returned to the vault. There it would stay until it decided to torment me again. The sudden bombardment of that memory left a bitter taste in my mouth. Dropping the bag at the foot of the bed, I went back to the door and locked it before coming back to the bed. Fatigue finally met me as I sat on the edge of the full sized bed. Kicking off my boots, I laid back and allowed myself to fall into a deep nothingness akin to death.