The Spare To The Throne

Chapter 25: The Truth Kills

I wake to the feel of soft sheets and the tender warmth of the sun, shining in through somewhere in the room. My eyes stay closed and I try to grasp onto the little sleep I had left. The faint smell of something rich yet earthy greets my nostrils.

Outside, the morning calls of birds dance melodiously through the morning rise. Paired with it, is a low gruff tone speaking distinctively to what I find unknown.

"I don't fucking care what he looks like. Check his vitals, if he's lost a lot of blood aid him. You can also feed him, but nothing filling, understand?"

Almost instantly, my eyes flutter open only to be met with the colors orange and yellow across the room's vast enclosure.

There's a brief pause.

"Fine, I'll kill him soon." The voice affirms this eloquently and my breath hitches.

It was Xavier. Across the room his bare back faces me, oblivious to my wakening. His tall brawny frame was almost statue-like outside the room balcony. And even then he looked nothing like the monster he spoke as.

Questions I have no answers to pulse my head. Perhaps I was dreaming, but this felt all too real. I slip out of bed, treading to listen closely. That rich earthy smell  from before grows stronger and I see that it's coming from Xavier. Snugged in between his left hand is a blunt and in his right, is his phone.

The balcony's transparent door is left opened by a quarter of it's actually length, leaving just enough space for me to step out, but I don't. The things Xavier did was still foreign to me, yet based on the little he shared last night, I knew he was corrupt. If he really was to kill someone, then chances were it'll happen. And the thought terrified me.

Xavier looks off, far into the interminable vast of the crinkly forest. His jaw clenches, a sign of his bubbling rage. "She's the reason why I've waited," His voice was so low, it was almost inaudible. "Fuck! Yes I know. But I'll take care of it."

It was moments like these that made me ponder what exactly went on in Xavier's head. He runs a hand through his hair. A habit I picked up on the very first time we met. Then as if sensing my presence, his talking ceases. He turns around. His mouth gaps open, it was an off guard movement. But the look is gone as fast as it came.

"Ronaldo, laisse-moi te rappeler. (Ronaldo, let me call you back)."

He ends the phone promptly. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough. What were you and Ronaldo talking about?" I retort, hearing him say the name Ronaldo, just before he hung up.

"Nothing that pertains to you." He says this coldly and I stumble back as he brushes past me into the room.

"You said you were going to kill someone, who and why?"  

My question is disregarded. He saunters over to his closet, his movements calm and unbothered.

"Get dressed." he orders, his tone tranquil yet inarguable.

"No." I say this lowly, but he hears. The sounds of movements coming from his wardrobe stops. His frame emerges and I hold a breath.

"Farrah." my names comes off his tongue with warning. His eyes are bloodshot, and his pupils are dilated. He looks at me with an all too familiar look. He's high. Suddenly I'm taken back to the day  he carved me. The void look in his eyes, that made him look inhuman, were slowly creeping back. He looked in no mood to argue.

I take a step back, panic taking instinct. The sound of my heart beating pounds loudly in my ear. It was like waiting for a bomb to disintegrate. Any moment now, he would flare up. He'd probably yell or choke me. Maybe even a combination of both.