THIRD PERSON'S POV
The tires of black Mazda smoothly roam through the streets of Mount Ronmit. Peacefully driving while humming a tune of some song he doesn't remember; he smiles at the idea of the surprise he has saved for someone.
This hour of the night is usually quiet, with no vehicle around.
He looks down at the box of chocolate cake, and smilingly thinks- I know you don't like cakes, but I do!.
After a few minutes of rash driving, he reaches the mansion, surprised to see no man of Wyvern at the big gate.
Driving to the parking lot while scanning the empty surroundings carefully, he parks his car and heads out with the cake.
Brushing off the subconscious tension, he thinks, being the day of celebration, some might have been granted off. But deep down in his heart, he is aware of the fact that whether a celebration day or not, no man has ever been granted leave.
He unbuttons the first two sections of his shirt and walks straight inside the huge mansion.
Something was wrong, he figured it out pretty much. No man of Wyvern was inside too. He placed the cake on the closest table and took his gun out, very cautiously he quested every room of the floor he was standing on.
His heartbeat was accelerating with every room he found empty.
With silent feet, he goes to the first floor and notices his mother's room is closed. His grip around the gun tightens as he walks towards it and immediately pushes the door to open.
Pointing the gun ahead, he eyes all around and finds everything in place.
The bed was made, the lights were on, and the bathroom door was closed. He moved to the bathroom, peeked in, and found no one.
Immediately getting out of her room, he heads straight to his father's and again, no sign of a single soul.
Being on the verge of panic-stricken, he rushes to every room while calling for his parents and his little brother.
He heads to the roof and finds no one. Heads to the dining hall and finds no one. The kitchen, laundry room, training hall, library, swimming hall, theatre hall, ballroom, and torture basement- all were empty.
He was alone in that humongous place, and this has never happened before. He takes his phone out and dials his father's number, but no one picks up.
He grunts restlessly and heads towards his room while dialling Jade's number.
"Jade, something is going on. Come to my house right-" His words die in his throat the second he opens the door.
"Hey, what's happening?" Jade speaks through the phone; the concern is evident in his voice.
"Dylan? Hello?" The pungent smell of dead bodies is all over the room, mixed with the metallic odour of blood.
"Would you say something? I'm on my-" The phone drops from his hand at the haunting sight.
His heart sinks into the pit of numbness and the noise of pure pain leaves his mouth seeing the soulless body of his mom, dad, and little brother covered in blood.
His little brother blankly stares at him, not moving an inch, not breathing.
With blurry vision, his gaze moves to the wall upfront,
'Happiest Birthday, LATE GERALD' is written in bold letters all over the surface, with blood.
YOU ARE READING
Flower He Couldn't Pluck
General FictionIt's a story of two people living on different sides of the same dimension. She dreaded his world, and he envied hers. She reminded him of a life he had loved once, cherished once. And he reminded her of a life she escaped once, feared once. A pret...
