𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙊𝙁 𝘿𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂

𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐍 [ 𝐤𝐞𝐲𝐧 ]

Cain woke up with a shout, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His scarred fingers clawed at his throat, a choked wheezing emerging from his lips. Eyes wide with terror, he forced air down his throat.

Eventually his breathing calmed, and he realised he was still in his room. He was safe. He peeled his sheet away from his chest, the thin fabric clinging to the sweat on his pale skin. The night terrors were getting worse, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to prevent them. It was always the same thing, the same vision of his father. It was always him, his greatest weak spot.

Cain's hand trembled as he held the metal lighter up to his lantern. He preferred the flickering light over the pitch black darkness. He stood up and tightened the drawstring on his pants, taking the lantern with him as he exited his room. It was the dead of night, and the hallway was quiet and peaceful. He padded softly downstairs, walking past dozens of closed doors. Behind the doors slept dozens of Stovenhall's most dangerous residents.

The last door creaked open slowly.

"Cain?" Somebody squeaked.

A small girl stood in the doorway, her loose nightdress hanging off her lanky frame. Evelyn was a tiny thing, a small pipsqueak barely reaching his hips. At the age of 7, Evelyn Keye has earned the title of Hugo's youngest killer. After some freak accident to which no one except for Hugo knew the details about, Evie had lashed out and killed her entire family. With nowhere to go, Hugo had taken her in. Cain remembered that day in the kitchen, when Alba was telling him about their newest recruit.

"Killed her entire family she did." She had said with wide eyed and flailing arms. "She's only seven, I tell ya."

Hugo had taken her in, offered her his protection. He had always had a soft spot for children. Evelyn hadn't show any violent tendencies after she had arrived, in fact she seemed happy and normal. She liked playing with her ragdolls and begged to play with Cain's hair. In all ways, she was a normal child. Cain wondered what would've driven a mere child like her to such psychopathic violence.

He stared at the small girl in his doorway, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

"What are you doing awake?" Cain whispered, so not to wake up anyone else. "You should be in your bed, fast asleep."

"I can't sleep." She complained."It's too dark in my room and my nightlight broke."

Evelyn's bottom lip quivered slightly, and Cain relented, annoyed at how he could be so easily swayed by her. She ran forward, her feet causing unnaturally loud noises for someone who weighed so little.

He lifted her up by the arms, scowling at her as she clung to his neck like a baby monkey.

"This can't keep happening Evie. You need to learn to sleep alone." He scolded her slightly, walking back to his room. "What happens if i'm away at night, and you can't sleep? How will you cope?"

"You're not always gone at night." She frowned, shoving back the blonde hair that had fallen into her face. "And I can sleep with Alba."

The Alba Evelyn referred to was a heavily pregnant woman in her mid-30s, who had come to Hugo after being thrown out of her house for committing infidelity. She spent most of her time cleaning and cooking as a way of paying back Hugo's generosity. She was a sweet woman, who like the rest of them, had a sweet spot for Evelyn. Maybe it was because her own son was with her husband, who was her husband in name and title only. Cain reckoned she missed her son, (Oliver was it?) and saw comfort in doling out her affection in Evelyn.

"Alba will roll over in her sleep one day and suffocate you with her big, fat stomach." He tickled her stomach. "No one will hear your screams."

Evelyn giggled, the sound reverberating off the walls as she shoved away his tickling hands.