Dead Blood

Remembrance

Family feuds were never really fun, since most of them never ended in families reconciling. The sad part is the feud would always be a result of something completely asinine. Not this one, this feud, there's only one word for this feud. Revenge.
For Greg, he never really felt anything towards his father. He was a deadbeat, and nothing more. So, how could Greg still feel love toward someone so cold? Not even he knew that.
However, his mom, she was an angel. From the moment he was born, Greg's mom had always shown the love a mother was supposed to give her son. He loved her, he was always checking up on her since he was little. Now, he'll never get that chance again, and now he knows why.
"You killed my mother," Greg growled at his father as he clutched his knife. "You're going to die for that!"
On the sidelines, watching the fight from afar, were Brandon and Heather, wondering what they could do. "There has to be something we can do," Heather exclaimed.
"We can't," Brandon said. "We would just be in the way. Look," he pointed at the fight.
Even Star was on the sidelines, and she was able to hold her own. However, she knew what she was doing. This wasn't her fight anymore, and if she intervened, she would die in the crossfire. But, at the same time, she didn't want to see Greg die. She was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop him.
"Star," Greg called to her. "Listen to me."
"What is it?" She asked.
"Take Heather and Brandon, get somewhere safe," he answered. "I have to fight him alone."
"Greg, no," she almost choked on her words. "You can't beat him by yourself."
Greg sighed as he directed his eyes toward Star. They showed peace, fulfillment... bliss. "Star, I've found my mother's killer, and I have the power to kill him," he said as he stepped towards her. "I've already bloodied my hands. You don't need the blood on yours."
Star shed tears. "Greg, please, I can't lose you..."
Before Greg said anything more, he pulled her in and gave her a long, passionate kiss on the lips. The kind that sends chills down your spine, but at the same time, makes you feel so warm inside. They both fell into the kiss, holding each other.
Greg pulled back and gave a smile. "Don't worry," he responded. "I won't let this be my end." He brushed her hair back and kissed her cheek. "You three go, find a way for us to get out of here."
Star nodded and ran toward the other two survivors. She looked back, pleading to herself. "Don't die, please," she cried. "I love you."
Greg sighed as he smiled. "I love you, Star," he said in response to her. He clutched his knife and took a step toward his father. "Now, its just you and me."
His father just laughed. "Why do you still fight?" He said. "What are you trying to prove?"
"Prove?" Greg said. "Nothing." He charged straight at him. "I'm simply giving a murderer his punishment!!"
Meanwhile, Star and the other two were busy in the compound, looking around for a ride out. They spent minutes just trying to find something that would work. No luck.
"Damn it," Heather grunted. "Where can we find something? Anything that runs?!"
"There's nothing in here... maybe we're searching in the wrong place," Brandon said as he went into a different room.
Star, who was stressing out about Greg, had already found a means of escape. A small car, that had only been used maybe once or twice, had been sitting around in an empty room. "Perfect," she said. However, there was one small problem... "Where are the keys?" She started looking around.
While they were scurrying around the compound, Greg had his own problem. He and his father were on equal ground. Each strike was countered, each slash dodged, and each punch blocked.
"This is getting ridiculous," Greg said. "Fight like you're wanting to kill me!"
Greg's father smirked. "Poor choice of words," he said in a maniacal tone of voice. That was when it all changed.
Greg felt the punches from his father grow stronger, because it started to make him stagger. Each knife strike was getting harder to dodge and counter. Greg was slowing down, huffing and puffing.
His father just kept laughing until he finally found his opening. He threw one more punch, causing Greg to be stunned for a brief minute. There it was. Afterwards, he shoved his knife through his stomach.
Greg felt the blade go through him, causing him to cough and gag slightly. "No..." he choked.
"Did you really think you could b-b- beat... me?" Greg's father felt a sharp pain in his chest, and his lungs. He couldn't really breathe. He looked down, and saw a blade right where his heart was. Slowly bleeding, and choking, his breath slowly faded"You sneaky kid..." he managed to say before he fell to the ground, no longer moving.
Greg, who had knelt down in pain, went to his father's side, and saw that his eyes were still open. "You don't deserve a peaceful rest, you murderous bastard," he barely said. "Whatever part of hell you end up in, I hope you suffer." He tried to stand back up, barely managing to keep on his legs. He limped toward the compound, groaning in pain. "It's finally over," Greg whispered as he knelt back down. As he fell back down, his vision slowly disappearing, he could barely make out the shape of what looked to be a car. And out of it came a tall woman, who was carrying him to said car.
"Come on, we have to get him out of here," he could hear her say, muffled.
He recognized the voice. "Star?" He coughed. Not too long after that, he felt his eyes close, and his breath slowly leave his body.