Brothers 3

Chapter 12

James was so small that when he looked up at his father he couldn't see the entirety of his face. Richard was looming over him, watching the door they had stopped in front of. They were in the basement, a dark and wet place that James had never been to before. His hands were sweaty, and his heart was racing. He remembered what Robert and Eddie both had looked like after they had come out of here. Pale and shaken to the core. He wasn't looking forward to finding out why.

Richard glanced down at his son. There was a shadow cast across his eyes so James couldn't make out his expression. He watched James for a minute, clenching his hands into fists.

James didn't know what to do. He knew there must be something bad in there because of how the other two had reacted to it. Yet he also knew that it must be something he had to see now that he was old enough. His dad seemed uncomfortable so he wouldn't have brought James down here for no reason.

Richard sighed, the sound echoing down the dank hallway. James reached out and took his hand. It was colder than James's and about twice the size.

Richard's hand remained limp in his, but James felt the tension in his arm release.

"You are old enough now," Richard said, "Don't let it get to you."

James chewed on his lip and tried to make himself take deep breaths. He was nine, and that was old enough to face whatever was behind that door. He promised himself that he wouldn't cry like Eddie had. At least he could say he was tougher than Eddie then. Robert would be so proud.

Richard was watching him, and James realised that he needed to respond. "Its okay father. I can handle it." James was glad that he sounded more confident than he felt.

Richard reached out and took hold of the rusted door handle, forcing it down. The loud moan of it moving set James's nerves on edge. As Richard pushed the door inwards James noticed scratches on the inside of the door. They were long and thin, like they were left there by claws. Or fingernails. Heat hit James's face from inside the room along with the stench of urine and sweat. James held his breath so he wouldn't have to smell it. The room was completely dark with no windows. Even as a vampire it took his eyes a minute to adjust to the black. He could hear a heartbeat inside and laboured breaths. A sudden coughing made James jump and he was overwhelmed by the feeling that he wanted to run away. Something about the room and the darkness made him feel wrong. He didn't want to see it. He had lied. He couldn't do this.

Richard held his hand and dragged him forward a step. Once in the room the air was heavy enough to make James start to sweat. It was hard to draw in a breath, but James desperately needed it to calm his racing mind. If he just focused on breathing then he wouldn't notice the feeling of dread that was tiptoeing up his spine.

James's eyes adjusted to the dark and he saw the woman in the corner. She was chained to the wall opposite them and made no move to get up as they entered. She was curled into the corner with her arms thrown over her head. James thought she smelt like a werewolf, but the stench of her own droppings made it hard to smell anything else. The grey hue to the room made her look like an old picture, washed out and colourless. James's mind told him it wasn't real. He would have heard her down here all the years he had lived in the house above.

Richard cleared his throat. James and the woman jumped because he startled them. The woman whimpered softly and pressed herself tighter against the wall.

"Show him." Richard's voice sounded too loud in the silent and tiny room.

The woman obeyed without a moment's hesitation. She moved out and turned to face them. her arms were thin as twigs and her cheekbones stood out like cliffs off her face. Yet she had a large belly, as if she had eaten a bowling ball. James struggled to make sense of the image. How could she be thin and fat?