"Tell me... what the fuck happened?" Vanity Brown sits down on a curb in front of a massive police station, FBI swarming it for evidence. An officer there stands above him, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Seth, and Nixon, the one's we captured in the hotel both escaped, killing everyone inside the building."
"How... is that even possible?"
"I don't... I don't have... I-I-"
"If you don't know anything, don't say anything."
They sit, silent. "They even killed that one woman and her friend?"
"You mean Lory and Kirk?"
"Yeah, were they killed?"
"Yes..."
Vanity takes a puff of a cigar and stands up. "Fucking hell... how in the wor-" Before Vanity could finish his sentence, a man in a black suit walks up to the both of them and fires into their heads. they collapse to the ground dead. The other man Vanity was talking to was faking his death though, the instant the bullet entered the bottom of his eye he directed his head downward and collapsed. The man knew that no one was coming right away since the man who shot them both had a suppressor on their pistol, but someone had to have heard it. Suppressors don't silence a pistol after all.
The man who shot both of them noticed that the officer was faking it and as the officer goes to pull out his gun, he is shot in the head and killed. The man leaves the area as quickly as he had arrived, taking off the black clothing layered on top of him. It was the fake Seth that was sent to be captured, leading them to where they are now.
***
It had finally become morning for Seth and Nixon, both of them intermittently switching places for who sleeps or who watches out for danger. They noticed by a small bit of light coming through the crack of the door. But danger lurks, the monster upstairs has made itself back downstairs, both Seth and Nixon aren't aware of this though and only assume that the shadow blocking the sunlight as it passes by might be another monster on this godforsaken island.
Both Seth and Nixon prepare some makeshift weapons, keeping the door shut by using a makeshift doorstop created by breaking a variety of brooms and fusing it together with some tape and glue. Seth is given a sharp, spear-like object while Nixon carries a massive makeshift bat.
From all the noise they had made making the weapons, the monster outside hears them, slamming onto the door as hard as possible, both Nixon and Seth prepared for what's to come. Seth's eyes widen though, "Nix!"
Seth shows the pistol he has.
"If we shoot it here and run somewhere else, it could attract them to this area, plus, the sun is out so they might not be moving as much as before."
Nixon nods as Seth preps the gun to fire.
The monster bursts through the door and Nixon slams his makeshift club down onto it, forcing it to retreat into the first floor's lobby. Seth quickly removes the doorstop, making his way into the first floor and gunning down the monster. After almost wasting all of the ammo, it finally dies. Nixon slams his club down on it just in case.
They both nod at each other and make their way out of the building they were in, running from building to building, making their way to a more secure location. This could take days or weeks, but it is their safest bet.
***
A child in an orphanage waits at a window, staring at the sunset sat before him slowly rising from the horizon. The child smiles at the sight, entertained by it for he has nothing else to do. Nobody else but he goes to see this sunset in the morning, but they also make fun of him for not being able to sleep soundly as they can. They make fun of him for seeing figures they cannot see, horrific being that sit in the dark that no one else could comprehend. They laugh and laugh but the boy knew that he was in the right.
His only piece of joy came from looking out on the sun rising from the horizon. Nobody else liked him and in turn, he didn't like them back. Another thing made him happy though, no... it was more like excitement. Today, people were coming to the orphanage to adopt.
If he could get adopted, that'd mean he wouldn't have to get made fun of anymore and he could finally get away from the odd figures that haunt him at night, making him freeze in his bed in fear, unable to move until the last minute wherein he simply wiggles his toe making it disappear within the blackness of night that engulfed their room every so often.
As hours past, more of the orphans wake from their slumber, some chuckling amongst themselves seeing the child who sees demons staring at the sun like he always does.
Breakfast comes, the food is the same bland paste that it always is. It looked like it was food that someone would eat but all the child could describe it as is some grey matter being constantly put into his mouth for the sake of keeping him alive, nothing more. What confused him was that everyone loved the food, like they were hypnotized.
The boy and the orphans were then set in a line, people coming in and out checking to see who they want to adopt. Again, and again. The boy was ignored. Maybe his jaw was put on wrong? Maybe his eyes were dilated in an odd fashion, thinking that he was high off of his own fumes? Maybe he was too frail, they wanted a working boy so they couldn't have that right? Slaves they were he thought.
The clacking of cleats coming across the wooden floors as they examine them like cattle. Three children were taken and none of them was the boy.
The other orphans were sad too but cope by making fun of the boy for they knew how desperate he was to leave. The boy contemplated every day though. He slowly realized how odd it was in their process of adoption. Feeding children until they've reached their fill then lining them up, people coming in and checking them like slaves on an auction block.
The boy pushed those thoughts to the back of his head. Anywhere was better than here after all.
In the boy's free time, he decided to read a book as big as his chest. Flipping through pages, trying his best to understand the words put in front of him. Page one-hundred, page two-hundred. This is how the boy learned, it's how he has managed to even keep living until now and lucky for him, if anyone touches the books in the library with intentions of tearing them to shreds, they'd be punished.
Luckily for them, nobody has been punished yet and the boy didn't want to find out either.
One day passes, two days as well. Someone else, while he was sleeping tore the book he loved so much and blamed it on him. He was the only one who used the book after all and they didn't have anything to prove it false. Nobody liked him anyway, not the people who worked in the orphanage or the orphans themselves.
They grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to an empty room, placing him down on a chair. The boy was obviously afraid but he believed the punishment would be normal. He was just a kid, after all, still, a bit disheartened by his favorite book being torn to shreds.
They wrapped his eyes in a bandage and a crackling sound could be heard. First, it felt as if his hands had lost circulation, pins and needles coming across it, that was the feeling yes... he kept thinking, he couldn't understand what they were doing. A minute passed, the pins and needles have turned into a burning pain creeping up across his forearm. It wasn't excruciating, if anything, the feeling was similar to the burning that is felt in your body after you've exercised or gone on a light jog. Two minutes have passed and the pain gets worse and worse, the boy couldn't help but yelp and scream for help as the pain continued to creep up his arms. This unknown pain, he hated it, it didn't make sense to him. His thoughts inconsistent and his breathing going mad.
It felt like he was on fire. Like someone poured gasoline across his entire body and had lit a match. He had never screamed this loud before in his life, he felt as if his vocal cords would snap if he kept screaming but couldn't help himself, tears even seeping from the cloth tied around his eyes, making it down his face.
The pain suddenly stops and the boy passes out.
Everyone in the orphanage heard his screams.