Hexante

The Birth of Hex

The sound of shattering glass hitting the tiles woke him from his slumber. Actually, the screaming brat might've had something to do with it too. Hector lifted his head to observe his surroundings. His family remained huddled together in the corner across from him, their terrified faces only vaguely distinguishable to him in the limited light of the basement. He specifically noticed fat wet tears speeding down his brother's face like raindrops on a window during a storm. His father was nowhere in his line of sight.

Carefully, Hector unfurled himself from the fetal position he had found himself in and stretched out his unused muscles one by one like a tomcat, popping and cracking his joints loudly with each extension. Once satisfied, he sat back in his corner facing the family, his legs crossed over one another and promptly cracked his neck, frowning when the jerky movement didn't snap his neck entirely. In the back of his mind, Hector wondered how much force it would take to snap a human neck.

Before Hector could think of the detailed science, the basement door slammed open and closed, the sound of crushed glass followed the person rushing down the stairs. His father reappeared holding what looked to be kitchen knives. How frustratingly dull.

"We don't have much time." The man explained as he rushed towards the family, his hands shaking as he passed a knife to each member. "There's a man upstairs. He has a bat and has threatened our family."

"What? But we made sure every door was locked in the house. How did he get in?" The mother asked frantically.

"He probably got into the house through one of the unsecured windows."

Now would've been a good time to tell the father that there was such a lovely breeze earlier that day, but Hector banished the thought as quickly as it came. An intruder in the house? Awesome. And to think robbing the video game store was going to be the highlight of the night.

"I don't want it to come to this, but there's a good chance of him coming down here." The father passed a long smooth-edged knife to him and turned to face the rest of his family. "If push comes to shove, I don't want anyone holding back. Attack like you mean to kill."

"If you insist." Hex muttered, just as his blade buried itself into the soft flesh of the man's neck.

An eerie silence surrounded the family, broken occasionally by the gurgling of the man choking on his own blood, then someone screamed. Hex relished the feeling of the warm blood pumping out of the open wound in surges onto his forearm, like a bath for only that one appendage. Grasping the man's head with his other hand, Hex pushed the knife away from himself and slit the man's throat wide for his family to experience with him. Blood splattered across the grey carpet and dribbled down the front of the man's shirt as he fell to his knees, and then to his side, his body lying unmoving.

"Well, that was boring." Hex muttered, watching with disinterest as the man's clouded eyes stared back at him.

"Hector, how could you?!" The older boy in the corner - Frank - cried out at him. Hex continued to star at the body in front of him.

"He said not to hold back." Hex mocked as he finally looked up at Frank, his bi-colored eyes wild. "Are you going to die just as easily, or will you at least put up a fight?"

Frank, with a cry of frustration and probably fury, launched himself across the room, knife slashing towards Hex in an attack aimed for his ribs. Hex let out a high-pitched laugh and continued to taunt the boy into attacking him, but never letting the knife hit his flesh.

"What's the matter, pretty boy? Did I strike a nerve? Certainly struck a couple on your father, didn't I? Come on, attack me like you mean it. His last words, after all, were 'don't hold back', and I'm just dying for a fight. I know he was."