The Dome [O L D]

Chapter 4

Location: Former London, England-Dome 3

Subject: Ash Hise

Date: April 8, 2027

Age: 10

I stumble into the bathroom, after the spasms recede slightly. A blinding pain rips across my back, and I scream in agony. My father's feet begin to stomp through the hall. I reach out with a shaky hand and slowly twist the lock. Father's hand shakes the door rapidly, but the lock holds. I sigh in relief, but am brought back to reality by the unimaginable ache near my shoulder blades.

My arms and legs are filled with a tingling sensation, like I've put them to sleep.

The sensation slowly grows stronger until it feels like dozens of knives are ripping my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears wet my cheeks, and I sob for the first time in nearly two years. Father's anger has grown stronger, and he twists the doorknob open with a sound like a gunshot.

Suddenly, I am no longer in pain. I feel nothing.

My lips pull upwards into a demented smile. I can kill this person.

I slowly stagger towards the sink and touch the brown handle of his whip. My fingers trace the worn wood and grip it tightly.

Staggering backward, I raise the whip as he enters the bathroom. His eyes widen when he sees me. "How... What...?" he stammers.

I must look insane.

I don't care.

I bring the whip down hard onto his face. Dark blood drips out of a deep wound, and he cries out, clutching his face with white fingers.

The revenge is sweet, but it isn't enough. I wildly lash out at him, and keep going. I laugh.

"This is fun!" I shout gleefully. My father makes a choking noise. Blood quietly drips onto the hard tile floor.

I set the whip down and smile down at him. His usual smirk is replaced by a look of utter horror.

Snickering, I run to the kitchen. I open a brown cabinet and slide a long silver knife out of it. I take my time walking back.

Inside, my father has picked up the whip with shaking hands. He holds it in front of him like it will do any good against a knife.

Desparately, he swings the whip, intending to hit my neck. My hand moves in one fluid motion to block his attack. I pause for a moment, surprised I could do that. Father immediately retaliates with a weak flick, and I can tell he's losing blood fast. I hold the knife up to his throat.

"Tell me," I snarl into his ear. "where's my mother?"

"I won't tell you."

I press the knife closer to his skin. He coughs up blood. "Tell me, now."

"S-she's in... America...." his voice gets softer.

I press the knife deep into his neck. Father's screams penetrate the air until, finally, his life ends.

I stand up, but before I leave the room, I gaze back at him with a cold glare.

His eyes are still open, and his body still warm. I grab the knife from his throat and plunge it into his skin until his corpse is cold and blood covers everything.

I glance at the mirror, and stop cold.