Killer One ✓

Chapter 01

Travis.

There was a gun to my back and I was silent.

Both were two things that shouldn't ever happen to me.

Words never abandoned me. Anyone could back me up on that. Not only that, but for roughly half of my life, I was the one threatening people with a gun. I didn't feel like myself and that was unsettling.

Lucky led me, Vik, and a few others down hallway after hallway. He didn't look like someone who would be able to fight. Not with his jingling jewelry that alerted every one of his movements, hat and scarf that took up more space than he needed, and jeans that were too tight to move effectively. I couldn't tell if he had a feather in his hair or not. That wasn't relevant to his fighting but it made me hate him all the same.

For all of my silence, I was able to at least remember we'd taken two lefts, one right, and went up a staircase. It was slightly lighter up here than the room we'd started in which made me think we were somewhere underground. Or, the room we started in at least was.

Lucky glanced over his shoulder at us for a moment before looking forward. I squinted and leaned forward to get a better angle, trying to see what he had in his hair.

The gun on my back pushed in deeper and the hand on my shoulder tightened, causing me to straighten up.

I was led to a small room with one window so I knew I was above ground. How far above ground or where exactly was a different story.

There were a few chairs scattered around and a small table in the corner. Counters were coming out from three of the walls and cabinets lined the space above. Everything was plain - the floor, the walls, the colors.

I was forced forward into the room and made to sit down in one of the chairs. The gun's pressure disappeared but Vik only came around to the front of me with his hand casually holding the gun at his side.

Vik's temper was unpredictable. When I first joined the Casey gang, a lot of people like him were still around. Some kept their distance from me but still managed to keep their dislike known through leaving the room as soon as I walked in or the typical look of disgust on their faces whenever they looked at me. Vik, on the other hand, was in the group of people who wanted me to know without a doubt, that he didn't want me around. He broke anything of mine that I brought into the house, started fights with me, and drugged me to get me to either shut up or get fed up and leave. At first, I didn't want to take it and would get back at him every time he did something to me. Until one day, I fell asleep on the couch at the Casey house and woke up to the sound of a gun clicking in my face. Vik stood over me, pissed off, and I thought that was going to be it for me. He eventually told me that it wasn't time yet. I thought he was crazy and speaking gibberish.

After that, any time I walked into the room that he was in and Cameron, Finn, or Annabeth weren't with me, he would take out his gun and point it at me. He wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't even move from where I was, but his gun tracked my path no matter where I went in the room and I realized what he'd meant when he told me it wasn't time that night. Each time he took his gun out after that, I felt like he was trying to decide if that time was going to be the time he pulled the trigger. I prayed he had bad aim.

I could hardly walk around the Casey house, afraid he was going to be in a room just waiting for me. Not to mention, all of his other friends that had little games of their own. That is, until I found the one room that even they wouldn't enter. No one, no matter how much of an asshole they were, went in Cameron's little brother's old room. He'd died a little bit before I joined the gang and it was still fresh for Cameron. I'd heard he knocked out the last guy who went in there. It was the perfect hideaway from Vik, Mack, and the others.