Louis woke up late in the morning, clutching his head as a sharp pain pierced through it. "Damn, I must be really tired from that argument with my dad yesterday," he thought. He took out his phone and checked the time—it was 11 PM. Louis collapsed back onto the bed, feeling the tension ease from his spine. "Thank goodness I don't have school today," he said, exhaling deeply.
"Louis! Louis!" his mom called out from downstairs in their small house. He sighed and used his pillow to cover his ears, trying to block out her calls. "Dammit, why does this happen every weekend? I'm so tired of chores," he muttered angrily as he got up and headed downstairs, slamming the door behind him.
"Where's Dad?" Louis asked, sounding worried. "He went to work, like he always does," his mom replied. Louis wondered if she knew about their argument. "But he left something for you," she added, handing him a letter.
Louis looked at it curiously. "Is he traveling or something? Maybe he couldn't say it to my face," he thought. He opened the letter. "Mom, are you sure Dad went to work?" Louis asked, his voice tinged with worry. "Yes, that's what he told me. Is something wrong?" she asked from the kitchen.
"No, nothing's wrong," Louis replied. "You know, he was acting a bit strange today," his mom continued, smiling as she cooked. Strange how?" Louis asked, turning to look at her. "Well, he told me he loves me, which is unusual because he hasn't said that since you were born."
Louis's worry grew as he stared at the paper, shocked. It contained the same words: "I love you, Louis." "Damn, maybe he couldn't face me because of the argument. Or maybe there's something else going on," Louis thought. "If he comes back, I'll ask him myself.
But wait, that might be awkward. Just imagine asking, 'Hey Dad, why did you tell me you love me?' No, I shouldn't ask. I'll just let things flow naturally," he decided, shaking the thought from his head.
A notification bell sounded from his phone, breaking his train of thought. Louis checked his phone and saw a news alert from "Aleca Research ," where his father worked. His heart pounded as he read the headline: "Sinners Attack Aleca research Headquarters.
"Panic surged through Louis as he skimmed the article. The details were sparse, but the report confirmed that there had been a violent attack. "Mom!" Louis shouted, his voice trembling. "There's been an attack at Dad's work.
His mom dropped the spatula she was holding and rushed over. "What? Let me see!" she said, grabbing the phone from his hands. Her face went pale as she read the news. "Oh my God," she whispered.
Louis didn't understand, so he told his mom that she shouldn't worry. "It's probably fake news," he reassured her, though his own heart was pounding with fear. He turned on the TV, the old set taking what felt like forever to boot up.
When the screen finally flickered to life, the first thing they saw shocked them both. Bold letters splashed across the screen: "Sinners Terrorize Aleca research Headquarters—No Survivors."
Louis and his mom were frozen, staring at the horrifying images. The tall Pinnacle Industries skyscraper was engulfed in flames, with firefighters desperately trying to control the blaze.
The scene was chaotic; emergency personnel were pulling out lifeless bodies from the wreckage. The screams of the victims' relatives, mourning bitterly over the dead bodies, filled the air as ambulances lined up to take the bodies away.
Louis felt his legs weaken as he watched. "Dad," he whispered, his voice breaking. His mom clutched his arm tightly, her face pale and eyes wide with terror.
Louis stared at his mom, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and desperation. "What should we do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His mom didn't respond immediately, her face contorted with worry. Then, an idea struck her. "Let's call the company," she said, quickly dialing the number.
Maria put the phone on speaker, and they both held their breath as it rang. But their hopes were dashed when an automated voice responded, "I'm sorry, the number you are calling is very busy. Please try again later."
They fell silent, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on them. "Try again," Louis urged, his voice cracking. His mother dialed once more, but the same message played.
Louis's heart sank, the crushing weight of helplessness overwhelming him. He felt a lump in his throat, and his chest tightened painfully. The room seemed to close in around him, and he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.
A wave of frustration and fear washed over him. He wanted to scream, to lash out at the unfairness of it all. His dad was out there, possibly hurt or worse, and there was nothing he could do.
Louis's mom tried to stay strong, but her hands were trembling. "We'll go to Aleca," she said finally, her voice barely holding steady. "We need to see for ourselves."
Louis nodded, though his mind was a whirlwind of dread and anxiety. The thought of his dad being one of the victims they saw on TV was too much to bear. But he had to know. They had to know.
As they were about to leave, Louis remembered something. "Mom, we should call Dad's best friend, Kelvin. He works with him in the same department. Maybe he's with him."
"Okay," his mom said, her voice laced with a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was praying this call wouldn't end like the last ones. She put the phone on speaker and dialed Kelvin's number.
The first attempt went unanswered, and Louis felt his stomach knotting in anxiety. Maria's hand shook slightly as she stared at her son's face, trying to remain composed.
She dialed again, and this time, it went through. Louis's eyes widened with a mixture of hope and fear as they heard the call connecting. "Kelvin? Kelvin?" Maria called out, her voice shaky and a little bit terrified. The call was live, but there was no immediate response, just the sound of someone breathing heavily on the other end.
Louis and Maria exchanged worried glances. The sound of breathing brought a glimmer of hope that someone was alive on the other end of the line. Maria called out again, "Kelvin, are you there? Please, we need to know if Thomas okay. Louis birthday is tomorrow, and we need to know."
Kelvin covered his mouth as tears flowed down his cheeks. He was outside, sitting in an ambulance, with his head wrapped in bandages and his white shirt torn. His appearance was miserable, bruises scattered everywhere, making him look like he had been through a war.
He stopped the paramedic from giving him further treatment and stood up from the ambulance, determined to be strong and not let his emotions make Louis and Maria feel hopeless.
The paramedic tried to stop him, but understanding the gravity of the situation, her words caught in her throat.