Kevin sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the blank wall across from him like it owed him answers. The room around him was quiet, save for the occasional groan of the old building settling in its bones. Outside, rain tapped against the window in slow, rhythmic bursts, as if even the sky was too tired to cry properly.
He hadn't turned on the light. Didn't need to. The darkness matched the pressure behind his eyes.
His hands trembled slightly, resting in his lap.
Aubrey was alive this morning. Laughing, even. Playing with that ragged little bear she called Mr. Tucker, pretending he was a knight on some grand adventure.
Kevin swallowed hard.
Then came the scream.
The gunshot.
The blood.
Her father.
A man Kevin couldn't stop seeing as his own. Same dead eyes. Same damn cold pull of the trigger.
He clenched his jaw and shook his head, but the memory refused to loosen its grip. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will it all away—but it only made the silence louder.
Hours passed.
Or maybe it was minutes.
Time felt like a broken thing in moments like these.
And then—
Whzzzzzzzzzz—
A sharp sound, like a zipper slicing through the fabric of reality.
Kevin's head jerked up. His breath caught in his chest.
The room folded inward.
No light. No sound. Just—gone.
In a blink, he wasn't sitting anymore.
He stood in a vast, blinding white void. No walls. No sky. Just... endless light that felt wrong, like it was screaming in silence.
A figure was suspended ahead of him—chained against nothing, its arms stretched wide. It was human-shaped, but not. Smooth, chalk-white skin. No eyes. No mouth. No face. Just... presence.
Kevin didn't move. Couldn't.
Was he dreaming? Dying? Hallucinating?
His breath echoed, somehow.
Then, the faceless figure lifted its head. Not physically—spiritually. Like it was aiming its essence right into his.
And it spoke.
Not in words, but in weight.
In a voice that vibrated through Kevin's ribs and pulled at his spine:
"Justice."
Black.
Kevin's body jerked.
He was back. On his bed. In his room.
Breathing hard. Cold sweat rolling down his face.
His chest rose and fell like he'd run a mile barefoot.
Then he saw it.
His dreads.
Tied up.
With a green rubber band.
His heart sank into his stomach.
That was Aubrey's. She wore it earlier that day. He hadn't seen it since the shooting.
Kevin slowly turned toward the corner of his room.
Mr. Tucker.
Freshly washed.
YOU ARE READING
Fighting Spirit (The Final Barrier)
FantasiaWayne and Kevin were brothers but they were different in every way. One smiled, one frowned; one would be at peace. The other would be in turmoil; One was nice the other was mean. Though one day, they both agreed on one thing; their city was over ru...
