Shattered

Close Call

"Shit. He's here. Mayson, come on." Mayson didn't move. Mayson checked out. A skill he developed before the age of ten whenever his mother would climb on top of him, he used it when the stimuli around him became too overwhelming for him to bear. The world disappeared and he with it. He was in a room of white. Like a blank canvas, he stared through the eyes of a painter, but unlike the artist, he failed to find beauty within this chaos.

Jonathan, having experienced this side of Mayson before, wasted no more time with words. Bodily he picked Mayson up and all but sprinted into the back room. He had bought himself some time when he was running around the house the last thirty-six hours.

Carefully he opened the wall in the closet, carefully listening to see if they'd made it to the house yet. He'd set up motion sensors one mile away to give him some time to get the last bit prepared.

Jonathan set Mayson down in the little hiding space and kissed him. "I love you, little duck. No matter what happens don't leave this room." Jonathan smiled as Mayson looked at him.

"I love you, too, Jonny. Stay with me?"

Jonathan wanted to cry at the request. "I can't. Stay quiet. Remember I love you, Mayson."

With that, he closed the wall, closed the closet door, and made his way out of the room. He turned left and headed further down the hall before making a right. Here he came into the mudroom and slipped out the door into the outside.

He looked around a moment before hearing a rustling of voices, hushed in tones.

He saw four men approaching then slip around the other side of the house.

He reached a certain spot and gave a signal to somewhere in the darkness before continuing on to the front. Jonathan peeked around the side of the house just as the four men checked the front doorknob. Jonathan left it unlocked.

The frontman, who Jonathan knew not to be Lucius, bravely walked through the front door. As he pushed it open and walked in, a flash of fire and a large bang! rang out into the night. The man was thrown back several feet, shouts of surprise carried with the shot, drowned out in the sound.

Jonathan ducked back around the side and gave another signal. Then the darkness began to move. Black shapes filed around the house, three of them slipping in the door Jonathan had earlier exited.

Jonathan shot a quick thought to Mayson, hoping he was staying put and staying quiet. As the three remaining men entered the house, Jonathan was behind the last man. The two in front, who, like the others were dressed in black clothing and masks, heard a crunch sound. They stopped and turned around, fear and adrenaline starting to make them have second guesses about this attempt they were engaged in.

They saw their partner in crime lying on the floor at their feet, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, his eyes still wide with the fear of death. They looked around but nothing moved. Even the air was still and the gulls quiet. As if the night itself were mourning their lives.

They turned, unsure where to go. They saw no one and the house was silent. The taller one pointed towards the back hallway and they made their way slowly toward it. They passed the threshold of the hallway not seeing the tripwire that was set to bring a sledgehammer down swinging. The taller man ducked at the last minute causing the hammer to smash into the other man's jugular. The man grabbed at his throat and dropping to his knees, made gurgling sounds from his crushed throat. Lucius watched as Manley started to convulse before succumbing to death. He knew he was done for, but he was damned if he was going to go down without a fight.

"Come out here and fight to my face, you son of a bitch." There was no sound but behind him, the darkness moved. Lucius turned toward the hallway but saw nothing. He knew he heard something.