The Breathing Game

III

The island's nighttime veil had been placed accordingly, and the moon replaced the sun as the overseer of the Earth. The nocturnal creatures of the island began to play their orchestra to the dark atmosphere, and their symphony was the hallmark of the island's night. The cool, windy air blew their bloody hair and garments to the east, and the white sand relieved the four as they finally reached it after hours of avoiding assassins in the grassy and dirty vegetation of the island forest.

"Well...there you are! I surely thought you'd all be maggot food by now. I've got to hire better assassins huh?"

"We've passed your little tests now let us go home! Let us go right now!" Ryan exclaimed.

"Well Mr. Shallant, how could you manage to kill four armed assassins, and you can't even count? I said 1. 2. 3 challenges. Right?"

"Look! I'm not playing these games with you anymore! Let me and my family go or I'm going to kill you! You've put my family in danger and now I will kill you! Believe me!"

"Oh I believe you Mr. Shallant! Certainly I do! But seeing as you love your family so much and you all are such a cohesive unit, this last challenge should be but a joke to you. At the end of this very easy challenge, you all will be shipped off this island, and you'll arrive home in three days."

"Well look come on. Let's get this over." Ryan said angrily.

"Oh certainly. Alright you guys. I'm giving each of you a paper with a question on it about yourself. All you have to do is answer the question and give me the paper back. Simple as that."

"What kind of crap is this?" Charlotte broke out and said.

"We could just kill you now! Your little soldiers are dead! You're the only one left Mr." Ryan added.

"I am offended now. How stupid do you guys think I am? How could I play these cruel sinister games with people's families and not have an army behind me? Oh gosh c'mon. I could summon some more, but I don't think that's necessary. Alright, this test will determine if you're going home, or-"

Schmit stopped for a second and looked down reluctantly at the papers in his hand.

"Alright Shallant family, no one's passed sequence one in a very long time. No one's passed sequence two in forever. So, let's see if you can pass sequence three. I have confidence in you all."

The family sat on the beach floor, but got to their feet in preparation of the impending challenge.

"Max Shallant, what's your mother's birthday?"

Max looked surprised by either the simplicity of the question, or at himself for being so bamboozled by the proposed question.

"Umm...uhhh...March....I mean April...twenty-fifth?"

"Incorrect. Sandy Shallant, what's your father's favorite sport?"

"That's easy. Hockey."

"Incorrect. It's football."

Sandy's face became a flushed red. She knew she should've known that answer.

"Charlotte Shallant, what's your son's favorite color?"

Charlotte pondered the question and began to weep into her hands.

"I don't know. I don't know. I think blue!"

"Great guess. But it's actually green. Ryan Shallant, what was your daughter's final algebra grade for the past school year?"

After a few moments, Ryan's head just dropped and his vision dropped to his dirty, bloody feet. He knew he had no earthly idea.

"Are you guys serious? This is what you call family now-a-days? You four know nothing about each other! That's absurd! You sleep in the same house with strangers every night!"

The family stood ashamed in the sandy night air, and the crashing of the waves beat against their hearts. They were afraid to look at each other. They were too embarrassed to look at each other. Schmit pressed a button that was on the side of his trousers, and seconds later, a trio of apparitions appeared from behind the family, and they all held weapons.

"You all disgust me. Without a pinch of resentment, I tell you all that you have failed the breathing game. You have failed sequence three. I banish you all to the brig for five years, and if you survive, if you ever see the light of day again, you will undergo these three sequences once more. Hell, this little alone time should allow you all a chance at truly coming closer as a family, which is something you all desperately need anyway."

"Five years! No! To hell with this! I'm tired of this! Let my family off this island!" Charlotte yelled as she lunged towards Schmit.

Schmit pushed her off and pulled a pistol from behind his jacket. Its muzzle was long and shiny in the moonlight and its dark cavity closed with the contact of Charlotte's forehead. The recoil along with the blood and brain tissue nearly hit schmit in the face, but instead chose the white sand to crash.

Charlotte's body landed bluntly on the angelic sand, and her hair veiled her head wound.

"You motherfucker!" Ryan yelled as he sobbed loudly and lunged towards Schmit as well.

One gunshot, then another, and then another, and Ryan finally fell to his knees as blood bubbled from his mouth. His children looked on helplessly as Schmit stood over him.

"Man Ryan, you sure can take some bullets. Did you think I would just let you guys overpower me? You didn't even let me finish explaining the details of your incarceration. You all could've gotten out of the brig in about two weeks if your behavior was good, and the brig is your "suite" by the way. All you had to do was stay in your suite and behave. You could've been retested in about two weeks. I actually didn't mean to shoot your wife. That was more of a reflex."

Ryan Shallant sat on his knees being suffocated by his own blood. His dripping blood began formulating globules in the dry sand under him. He clutched the wounds but his blood ran freely, decorating the white sand vibrantly under the moonlight. His breaths began to come shallow. His eyelids began to weigh much. As his children stood feet away, he only looked at them.

"I love...you," he uttered as blood spit with every word.

His body rested in the sand alongside his wife in a pool of blood. The two children wept excessively. They were without guidance in the world. They didn't know what else to do. They didn't know where to go from here.

"Little ones. Little ones. What to do with you is the question."

Schmit pondered for a second, and he abruptly began to walk away from the beach. He passed the children, and they finally moved towards their sleeping parents. They knelt down beside them and wept continuously. The three silhouettes that had appeared earlier approached the children from behind. Their weapons threw the moons light back at the atmosphere as their barrels closed with the lambdoid bones of youth. There was silence. Then there was a bang. A twin. Then there was complete silence.