Addy the Killer

Chapter 6 - Going Home

The sun rose with Adrian still held captive, staring at his reflection. Marco had fallen asleep during the night. He was shivering. He hadn’t had a blanket on in the air conditioned room all night. The old Adrian would’ve put the hospital bed’s blanket on him but that boy was gone, caput, no more. The sun seemed to hurt Adrian. His skin was still sensitive and it started to sting. This seemed to take Adrian out of his trance. He shrivelled down into the furthest corner from the window. The light crept along the floor to Adrian’s feet. He hissed in pain and pulled his legs tighter up to his chest and hugged them. His head fell to his knees. The boy’s eyes started to water. The tears ran down the crevices in his cheeks and onto the floor. He began sobbing. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. It was Marco’s. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Adrian tried to wipe away the tears but they just kept coming. Marco knelt down and hugged him trying to comfort him but it was no good.

Eventually their mother came to pick them up; the hospital must’ve made her aware that he had woken up. You see, Adrian had basically been in an induced coma, it was and it wasn’t though, he would wake every few days but no matter what anyone said, he wouldn’t respond, or rather he couldn’t respond. His body had suffered dramatically. His once strong muscle had withered away to what appeared to be just skin and bone. This had gone on for months.

After a rather short and not so heartfelt reunion with his mother, Marco was used as Adrian’s support to walk outside to their car. His mother had brought a grey hoodie, jeans and sneakers for him to wear, as all of his other clothes were burnt so much that they were thrown away. It took some convincing to get to the car though; he made sure he had his hoodie on and an umbrella, because of his new found phobia of sunlight. Adrian was given all of his possessions that weren’t burnt to ash or stolen. They included his belt, shoes, partly burnt wallet and his half-red penny that Adrian’s angel was guarding. He stared at the penny, turning it over and over in his hands, examining it on both sides. He suspected that it was blood. He sniffed it; it smelled like blood. It looked like blood. He licked it; it tasted like blood. This was evidence enough for him. It was blood. The odd thing was he wasn’t disgusted by that.

Adrian was left with his thoughts in his bedroom. The room was small. His walls were completely covered in all ranges of metal music bands. Some were Marilyn Manson, Slipknot and so many more. The most striking thing about his room was that almost everything was black and random flickers of red. He had his draws full of paints and pencils of all colours but they were hidden away. He had filled shoeboxes under his bed as well. Piled up in the corner was his book collection. Stacks of horror stories stood at least a metre in the air. Books were his inspiration for his art or sometime he had an epiphany and created amazing works, not unlike the skull that was burned by Seeker. Adrian face-planted onto his bed, face-down into his pillow. He just laid there motionless. His eyes began to water again and he cried himself to sleep.