Chapter 5 – The Day Of Separation

I have dreaded this moment since I started recounting what happened. It’s the same sensation of something unseen grabbing you from a nightmare before you wake up. Only now I barely sleep and the dread never goes away.

I have said many times now that I am not who I say I am, that I’m sorry to those of you showing your support to me because your faith in me is so misplaced. I bear the responsibility for so much of what happened on that day, even if my friends tell me that it is not my doing. Guilt is a permanent parasite once you let it in, it nestles itself between the electrical pylons of your brain and makes sure you NEVER feel ease again.

I’m stalling, forgive me, I need to do this. This may be the longest entry of them all, the one that will leave with more questions than answers, but not only is it necessary I explain things in this manner, I have no other way of doing so. I apologise in advance if the structure of what happened is confusing, I have put both perspectives together. There’s also a song at the end, indulge a broken soul, it’s all I can think about now when I relive those moments.

There will be no immediate aftermath commentary, instead I will leave that onto whatever happens next.

I got a text this morning sent within a group chat with the others, I’m too sleep deprived and pain addled to discern the majority of the message save for the end of it;

“Flight gets in at six. We’ll see you for dinner. Time to end this.”

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (FINAL)

I’ll start off by apologising if any of this breaks the usual flow of things. This is Millie and I’m not the usual “dictator”, but there is no sign of Tristan or Fay in the home. We got over at the usual time, the door on the latch, and assumed that they were simply downstairs waiting for us. No car on the driveway so Mrs Muldoon was out, some soft music playing from Tristan’s room and the smell of recent cooking still hung in the air. It had the vibe of a lived in home and one that, at that moment, the four of us firmly believed was occupied.

But, when we got downstairs to find snacks aplenty, Tristans laptop open and ready for dictation and the TV aptly tuned to the channel, blasting static the entire time, we grew concerned.

For the sake of brevity, I’m picking things up from here and taking everything down. Tristan better hope it’s a prank or I’ll kick his stupid handsome ass into the ground and have Fay draw his busted up nose.

Millie: Dammit, where are they?

Preston: Maybe they stepped out to grab extra food? Or Mrs Muldoon could’ve asked them to do something?

Warren: Unlikely, the 7/11 isn’t exactly far from here to walk, there’s already enough snacks for you AND your boyfriend, no reason for them to prank us when everything is so tense.

There was a slight pause, Preston fumbling with his sweater.

Preston: You guys… know about that?

Millie: That you’re gay? Oh, yeah. We know. He’s cute, by the way. Mathias bet you asked him first, Warren said you were too much of a coward.

Warren: In fairness, you aren’t the most assertive guy.

We nodded in agreement as Preston held back tears and a smile.

Preston: You guys are assholes, I love you.

“Welcome back to Beneath The Static. Tonight’s show “Truth and Consequences” will be presented in front of a live audience!”

0:00 – A guy having more fun with a saxophone than anyone should be legally allowed to plays the fanfare as the 80s style title card floats lackadaisically over the front of the screen. A few moments later, we hear the smattering of applause from an obscured audience as the camera pans down from the top of the stairs to a large theatre stage not unlike the sort you’d see for a televised comedic special. On either side, separated by about 30ft, are two large rectangular boxes and a single microphone in the centre.

“Those of you in attendance, living or dead; welcome to Truth and Consequences! Please welcome your host… JJ Watson!”

At first I thought it was the continued applause of the crowd, but it was the skittering of gnarled, spiked legs as an elongated and malformed shape steadily crawls along the deep rafters of the studio, the large camera struggling to keep up with him. A pair of bright green eyes flash in the dark for a moment, staring directly down the lens before a wide grin filled with perfect teeth joins it. Like he knows we’re watching.

Like he can sense it.

He dives from the blackness and lands on his tiptoes, the sounds of tendons snapping and his feet giving way for but a moment. He sways, stumbles and the crowd joins in with the antics, a low “ohhh” echoing through the studio as he taps one foot, taps the other and jumps before slamming them down with force to the crowd’s adulation. His brow is sweating, eyes flushed with tears and the edges of his grin threatening to break under the pressure. But he simply takes a deep bow and grabs the microphone.

Preston: Every time I convince myself that I can handle seeing him again. Then he appears and finds fresh ways to horrify me. Even when he’s not targeting ME, he knows what to do in order to send a chill down my spine.

Mathias: Did anyone else dream about him? Y’know, between these meetings.

We shake our heads, Mathias looks downtrodden and his shoulders fall.

Mathias: Ah… just me, then. Should’ve guessed.

Warren: What happens? Does he beat you up or is it creepier? Like does he eat you, tear you apart, burn you…

Millie: Dude, ew. C’mon, don’t make it worse.

Warren: Says the girl who wears a lucky cat’s paw around her neck and loves dead things. Well, what is it Mathias?

Mathias takes a breath and looks over at the TV, JJ doing his introductory spiel and explaining the rules of the game; the interviewees are asked questions and must answer honestly or face consequences. Mathias cleans his glasses and his body shivers.

Mathias: He just leans over me at night, or maybe it’s in my dreams… I don’t know. But he tells me I’m the one he likes the most, even if I’m not listening. He says it’ll be over soon… and then he shows me a chair on fire. It burns for what seems like hours before I realise there was a person sitting in it, long dead and nothing but charred bones and ash. The moment I realise this, he appears nose to nose with me, eyes wide and bulging, and asks me, “Where did the fire start?” He points to me… Then I wake up.

Preston: Wow… kinda makes me glad I don’t remember my dreams. Did you look into what it could mean? Symbolism n’ all that.

Mathias shook his head, muttered something about it not mattering and gestured to the TV, an obvious desire to change the subject. We looked back right as JJ was finishing his introduction.

00:04 – JJ takes the mic off of the stand and holds it candidly while leaning one of his lanky arms over it, perching himself as he tilts back and looks up at the rafters.

“Y’know, folks. This is the one I’ve been waiting for. We’ve had a wonderful run so far, but all good things must come to an end and all truths must be outed. Both from our lucky contestants today and from yours truly. To that end, I’d like to share something with you before we begin tonight. Do you mind indulging an old fool?”

He pauses, holds his hand up to his ears as the crowd cheers, he looks almost… tired as he displays a human smile and turns to the screen, posture returning and a haggard, withered look on his face as he talks.

“Our time together grows short, and it is my duty to make sure you know the why behind it all. I am not the architect of this now obvious entrapment involving those of you watching at home, merely the tool to be utilised. We were hired by someone who knows all of you at home intimately, who wanted answers when they weren’t given and when deception was instead offered. A man who went through the grief of losing his only son one fateful summer’s eve at Mantis Reach and to this day, doesn’t know what happened to him. Dallas “Livewire” Mendoza. His father Ernesto Mendoza wanted to expose all of your faults, your fears, your flaws in the hopes that you’d give into the guilt. I’m sure if he were here with us, he’d have more to say. But, seeing as he’s not able to, he’s passed on a simple message before we begin…”

We stared in stunned silence as we watched a man we’d grown accustomed to fearing, hating and filled with disgust at the mere sight of… slowly transitioned into the most human, grief rattled expression I have ever seen. Tears flowed down his face and that comical smile was twisted and turned into the deepest of frowns, no teeth to be seen but a quivering lip in its place. This was genuine grief, and when he spoke, the words shook his vocal chords and threatened to split my soul in two;

“All of you, with all of your flaws and all of your pain… why did you live where my son died?”

The moment hung in the air, JJ’s face a painting of suffering and our own guilt mirroring that. 5 seconds felt like 5 minutes.

Preston: How… there’s no way he could… didn’t Livewire’s dad…

Warren: Yeah, he drank himself to death years ago. That doesn’t explain SHIT. What the fuck is this? The guy looks… he looks almost genuine.

Mathias: He said it’d be over soon…

Millie: You’re all missing the bigger question.

They stare at me. My hands shake as I’m typing this out, knowing full well I could be documenting the worst thing imaginable, but unable to stop myself from doing it. It’s what he…no, *they* would want me to do.

Millie: What’s in the boxes?

00:07 – As if the director shouted “CUT!”, each of his features sank back into their usual place. The lips curled, the eyes vacant. The lights switched off and JJ was suddenly back in the darkness.

“Thank you, everyone! Now, we’ll move onto our contestants for this evening! Two remarkable people who don’t know that one of them has been keeping a small secret, while the other has been keeping a BIIIIIG one. There will be truth…there will be consequences.” He licks his lips and his eyes shake in their sockets before he saunters over to the centre of the stage and a pair of winches descend from the ceiling, latching over the top of these two boxes.

With one click of his fingers, the winch lifts up, and it reveals two participants, both secured to metallic chairs with leather-bound straps, both beaten and disoriented. I see her dyed red hair that always showed off her inner fire, his distinctive wrist band that I got him for his 14th birthday he swore he’d never take off.

It was Tristan and Fay.

I don’t remember how I got here, only that my head is pounding and the lights and sounds are so overwhelming as I come around that I feel my skull threatening to burst. Last thing I remember is being in my room and while I don’t remember the actual song now, something in my memories replaced it over the years with a song that was released some 6 months later.

To this day, I swear it was written for me, for us. Even as this all came to an end, I still hear it, like it’s a part of that moment now. My mind sticks to that for a moment before I smack across the face, jerks me back to reality. The hand isn’t fleshy; it feels like plastic and the smell of chemicals burns my nostrils.

“Wakey, wakey! We have some big questions for the two of you!” That big fucking grin staring down at me like it’d done in my nightmares for so many weeks.

It was finally my turn.

0:08 – Tristan and Fay, both exhausted and frightened, take in their new surroundings as each of us audibly gasps. Warren tries shouting at the TV, Mathias grows pale, Preston rocks back and forth while begging it to stop and I… well, I just feel like I’m going to puke. JJ looks as if he’s feeding off of our pain, our anguish and our suffering. He grins and walks over to one of them, smacking them in the face to focus their attention.

“Wakey, wakey! We have some big questions for the two of you!” He smiles and leans his microphone to the crowd. “Don’t we, folks?!” To raucous applause and hollering. “Now… young Tristan Muldoon, it’s time for you to play:”The screen behind them flashes the neon words as the crowd chants, reminiscent of that very first show we covered;

“TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES!”

The lights dim and a spotlight produces above Tristan, who only struggles for the briefest of moments before looking over to Fay, nodding and turning back to JJ, stoic and defiant.

“Now, Tristan. While it’s true that you and your womb-mate over there have no horrific secret tucked away under the folds of your skin… there IS something you’ve been keeping from everyone, isn’t there?” JJ leans down to the side of Tristan, still in full view of the camera and dragging his tongue across Tristan’s collarbone, all the way up to his ear, letting it slither inside for a moment before it snapped back in his mouth. He chuckles before adding, “And I’m not talking about the whole “Mantis Reach” thing!” dramatically putting his hands in the air and waving them before hanging his head in a makeshift rope for laughs.

Tristan stares and swallows, eyes fixated on JJ and looking as if he knows the second he tears them away to check on Fay, his life will end.

“Now, I will ask you a question and if you answer truthfully, the consequences will be mostly spared. IF you decline to answer the way I see fit or… hell forbid you’re foolish enough to lie, that will incur… consequences. Three strikes and you’re out!” He elongated the last two words to sound like a dramatic umpire, to the crowd’s delight and to our collective horror. “So, Tristan! Your first question: Do your friends know that you went back to Mantis Reach after your pact?”

If Tristan was taken aback by the answer, he tried his best not to show it. Head sweating and fingers gripping the edges of his chair, he opened his mouth before speaking and seemed to struggle for a response.

“I… I don’t…” He began, JJ waving his hand in front of him, eyes closed and still smiling.

“Oh, now I should remind you, son. The consequences are always there, it’s just a matter of how severe you want them to be. Remember that.” His face twitched before he pointed the mic back at Tristan.

Preston: We made a promise to never go back, he wouldn’t break that promise. Tristan would never…

Mathias: Definitely not, but IF he did, maybe he had his reasons? Forget that, HOW did JJ get them? He’s always made contact, but this… this is the first time he’s ever gotten to us physically.

Millie: He might’ve gone back, especially if there was a good reason to visit the hideout.

Warren: We need to get them outta there, beat the shit out of JJ. Can’t you find their location with your tech shit, Mathias?

Millie: You’re not listening. We can’t do anything right now, this is live. Best we can do is try to figure this out along with them, what JJ wants from them and us…

Preston: What would be his reason for going back? That oath was to keep us ALL safe. The only reason one of us would go back is-

Prestons eyes bulged and his lip quivered. The penny dropped.

Millie: Unless Livewire was still very much alive.

00:11 – The camera zooms in on Tristan. Who, to his credit, was trying his best to keep his composure in the unblinking face of the monstrosity that is JJ Watson. It must have looked like he was standing next to a hungry predator, waiting to pounce.

“I… it’s true, yes. I went back once to make sure things were… settled. That the lights had gone out.” He stuttered on the last bit, tears in his eyes. “None of the others knew, not even Fay. I had a hunch, and I was right. That’s why I went back.”

There was a pause, JJ hung his head low and stood up slowly, his ungodly frame looming over Tristan like the darkness ready to swallow up the last sliver of light. He shook in place for a moment, bringing the microphone close to his sunken face before snapping back to that uncanny valley persona.

“THAT IS CORRECT! Your truth has been accepted, bravo Mr Muldoon!”

The applause rang out as was sat there, dumbstruck.

Something drew Tristan back to the hideout, something he felt he had to finish. What the hell was it?

Before we could discuss, however, there was a flash and the sound of a single, sickening crunch, followed by a horrific scream.

In that moment, JJ produced a hammer and smashed it down on Tristans left hand, shattering the bones in an instant, releasing the shackles that bound him as he fell to the floor and writhed, clutching the mangled digits with agony.

“And there is your consequence, as appropriate for what you did. Give him a “HAND” everybody!” He laughed, he laughed so much his skin undulated and crackled while Tristan screamed on the floor.

“Now, Miss Muldoon, it’s YOUR TURN.”

I couldn’t tell you what it was like to be in the same environment as JJ, especially after picturing him in my nightmares for so long. Only that he is every bit as horrifying as you can imagine. They say “don’t meet your heroes”, but they said nothing about your villains, your deep-seated fears, your trauma. JJ was all of that and more, his aura was stifling to the point where every breath felt fetid, decayed and filled with anxiety.

He relished in front of the cameras, an obscured crew and a crowd hidden behind such bright lights that for all the noise they generated, I could never see them.

My mind still reeling from the pain, I had no idea how he found us, if he’d let one or both of us go and most importantly; what he was gonna ask.

He said three strikes and you’re out, but we didn’t realise until it was too late…

The game was rigged from the start.

Millie: Tristan… oh god, his hand… his FUCKING hand.

Preston: We need to do something. Mathias, can’t you track where they are?

Mathias: That’s not how this works, Preston.

Warren: Well, what the fuck does THAT mean? You can’t or you won’t?

Mathias: It means whatever you want it to mean, we just need to let this play out, horrible as it is. Figuring this out is the key to solving what’s going on. Tristan and Fay would both feel the same.

Millie: Bullshit. Bull. Shit. You KNOW they would do everything to help you if you were in their shoes.

Mathias shrugged. A cold stare greeting me as bitter words escaped his lips.

Mathias: I’m not there though, am I? I’m here because I was smart, I was careful. Something my good-for-nothing family ingrained into me, at least… They let their guard down, this is what happens.

Warren stood up so suddenly, his chair fell back. I swear he would have smashed Mathias’ face in if he thought it’d help. But no sooner had he taken a step, JJ was already interviewing Fay and our attention was drawn back.

0:14 – The same situation played out as it had with Tristan. The spotlight shone on Fay and Tristan’s screaming had grown to soft whimpers as JJ now stood behind her, hands gripped on her shoulders as the restraints were undone by unseen hands. His eyes gleaming in the darkness, voice oozing with glee as he spoke.

“Now, Fay, your question requires nothing more than a yes or a no. It’s true that you were born into a loving, wealthy family. Your Father worked as an architect until he died of cancer, your mother always ensured you were cared for and indulged in your passions, your twin brother the perennial best friend. But that still wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

His grip tightened on her shoulders and I could see him lick his lips before biting down hard on the lower right corner, drawing blood.

“You still felt disconnected, uninspired and unworthy, didn’t you? You took to emptying the house of any alcohol or pills you could find to stop the numbness, the voices, oh the voices Fay… how they tormented you. Livewire BEGGING you to set him free, those last words echoing in your head like an ear worm with the deepest of hooks. But…” He let go of her shoulders and leaned his head out of the darkness, his appearance gaunt, pale and the eyes swivelling in their sockets like a Chameleon. When he spoke once more, his voice was deeper, gurgling and raspy, but filled with a primal sense of joy.

“You still felt guilty for being so utterly miserable and worthless, didn’t you?”

Fay stared forward, her face riddled with tears as she blinked and nodded. “Yeah. I still feel that way now, even more-so since…” but JJ cut her off, sinking his head back into the shadows and the studio lights blinking on once more, back to his usual self and declaring;

“A SECOND TRUTH FOR THE MULDOONS!” To more uproarious applause from the crowd. We sat there in absolute silence, fists clenched and terrified for what he’d do next.

With a snap of his fingers, Fays eyes rolled back into her head and her body convulsed, her nose bleeding and Tristan shouting from off-camera.

“STOP! If you want to give someone a consequence… give it to me, this is all on me. Please…”The camera moved off of Fay and the wide shot showed JJ clicking his fingers as Fays head rolled forward.

He sauntered over to Tristan and effortlessly hoisted him back onto his chair, ignoring Tristans howls of pain as he did so.

“Well, if you insist!” He chuckled, and the spotlight was brought down one last time.

They told me afterwards that I had trauma. Physical, mental, whatever. But it was because of that trauma that I couldn’t properly perceive what happened as that spotlight came down for the last time. I remember the question, the answer and the… consequence. But that’s through these transcripts that Millie dutifully took up in our absence.

Because in that moment and for days afterwards, I could recall nothing, save for sound of a single shot that rang out as the show drew to a close.

And the smile plastered over JJ’s face.

Millie: I don’t want to write down anything else, I don’t want to be the scribe to their suffering.

Warren: They did it for us because they KNEW how important it was for us and for the integrity of our search. We do it for them too.

Mathias: Do not miss a single word, Millie. Cover everything. I don’t want any details left out when all is said and done.

Mathias was staring intently at the screen, biting his nails and body language that did not detail a man in distress, but a man filled with curiosity.

Preston: Are you not the least bit worried about what will happen to Tristan and Fay? This isn’t a fucking experiment for us to emotionally distance ourselves from!

Preston slammed his hand down. It was rare to see him so angry and upset, but this was a clear exception. Spit flew from his mouth as he finished talking, Mathias never looked up from his position once.

Mathias: Tristan can handle himself, it’s Fay I’m worried about. You worry about your food, your family issues and your boyfriend, I’ll worry about her. She is EVERYTHING to me.

Warren: They BOTH need our help, you Microsoft reject. Get your head out of your ass and stop pining for a girl who wants you as her FRIEND, Jesus Christ, dude.

Again, Mathias shrugged and continued staring, coldness rippling through his words.

Mathias: Well, your mom didn’t want you, but she put up with you after you killed your brother, so… maybe mind your own business? You & Fay will have something in common soon.

Hell erupted after that, Warren leapt over the table separating the two before I or Preston could stop him, volleying Mathias with fists and screaming as he did, Mathias’ eyes still glued to the TV.

It took a couple of minutes before we could pull Warren away, tears in his eyes and blood on his knuckles, sitting down in a heap and cupping his head in his bloodied hands, sobbing.

Mathias put a shaking finger to his lips, giggling with a broken nose and pointing to the TV.

Mathias: Here. We. Go.

00:20 – JJ pushed the chair to the centre of the room, turning it away from the crowd and motioning to someone off-screen to turn on the screen behind them, which began displaying photos of the twins as they grew up. Matching outfits as kids, Mario & Luigi as toddlers, birthdays screaming joyfully over new video games and art projects, 12-year-old Tristan with his arm wrapped around Fay mid-sob as she held a trophy highlighting her 2nd place award for the regional Karate championships, one of 16-year-old Fay pointing at her brother in his prom outfit like he was the star of the show. Lastly, a photo of the two of them mid-high five last spring on their birthday, happiness plastered across their faces, the rest of the gang off to the side clapping. The camera showing Tristans tear-stained face in a small reaction box on the right-hand side before fading to him fully as the last image hung on the screen. JJ sat on the ground next to him, an arm resting on his raised leg.

“All those memories, a lifetime of love, bonding and togetherness. You must really love your sister, Tristan!” A chorus of “aww’s” emanating from the crowd before he continued, Tristan nodding silently.

“But, I bet you didn’t know that among all that love, there was a betrayal.” JJ grinned and clicked his fingers, the screen zooming in on one of the gang; Mathias.

“He loves your sister, you know. Loves her so very, very much. Now, she may not be that interested, but that doesn’t stop a man desperately in love, does it? He learned from his family that sometimes, all you need to do to get something you want… is cut a deal.” JJ swivelled his hips, so he was sitting in front of Tristan, the crowd softly chanting something indecipherable, an ominous feel came over everyone watching as Mathias whispered. “That’s the thing about unexplainable horrors… there’s always a man behind the curtain, pulling the levers and making the puppet man dance.”

He holds his arms up like a marionette and jerks them around as he stands up, dancing as joints clicked and snapped, the chanting in the crowd growing more pronounced.

“Mathias lived a life of keeping secrets, scouring information and learning that love can be unrequited, but still forcibly taken. Maybe he felt bad about Mantis Reach, maybe not, but he was the one willing to make a deal with Ernesto Mendoza- LiveWire’s father- and set our little ordeal into motion!” JJ turned to the camera and knocked on the glass, waving slowly as that sick fucking grin pulled at the tops of his lips and his ears wiggled.

“Hi kids, this is all just for you. Even if there’s… regrets over our creative tactics and the way in which we get our information, the end result is the same. We get what we want.”

There’s a pause and as Mathias silently waves, I feel the sweat run down my brow.

Millie: He won’t stop until we tell him what happened at Mantis Reach.

Warren: But we CAN’T. You know we can’t.

Preston: Well then, what’s the alternative, Warren? Let our friends fucking die?

We watch Mathias for a moment, bloodied and completely disconnected from us, staring at the screen where the bravado of Tristan has been completely replaced by fear.

00:25 – A crude advertisement for some bar flashed up at the bottom of the screen, not unlike a cartoon ad, showcasing unusual drinks and an even more unusual location between spaces. The camera panned over to JJ, taking deep breaths and hunching his back repeatedly.

“Ah! I almost forgot! We have a FINAL question to ask! Forgive me, folks, this has been a LONG time coming, and we hosts can sometimes get a bit ahead of ourselves!” He swivels the chair around with almost no effort, slamming it down to face the crowd with glee.

“I will never tell you what happened at Mantis Reach. No matter what you ask me.” Tristan stared up at JJ, eyes bloodshot and twitching from pain.

“Oh, that’s alright. We’ll know one way or another. My question is more of a…hypothetical.” He chuckled and clasped his hands together around the mic before asking. “We know you love your sister, Tristan. The question is… would you die for her?”

It happened in slow motion. Tristan spat in JJ’s face as he laughed, licking it off of his chin before smashing the hammer into Tristan’s face three times, blood spurting out like a crimson fountain, staining his clothes and the majority of it flying towards the crowd. Their chanting now audible and bone chilling:

“One must stay, one must go.”

As the camera did a sweeping shot, JJ let the hammer fall into the small pool of blood Tristan had made, Fay stirring off screen as we screamed in horror. He slid in the blood and danced as the image behind of the twins warped and twisted until the forms high-fiving were chunks of viscera held up by feeble bones, Mathias’ spectral shape laughing from a distance.

JJ scooped up some of the blood, tasting some as it stained his perfect white teeth, much to the crowd’s delight. Walking over to Tristan, he rubbed his forehead with it before giving him a pair of light slaps, almost playfully. Stepping back and framing it with his hands, almost filled with glee.

“I think we got our final truth, folks! You all know what happens at the end of the show, but before that… we need our ultimate consequence! I’m sure many of you at home spoiled it for yourselves, but I do love making everyone wait.” He winked at the camera, the crowd not even remotely reacting as they chanted louder, far more aggression in their voices that bordered on the inhuman.

Then, without warning, he held a hand out to someone off camera. They handed him a gun that he pointed at Tristan as time stood still.

The shot rang out, Tristan’s skull was pierced and the force sent his body back before he slumped forward. He didn’t move, Fay was nowhere to be seen. The crowd fell silent as JJ panted in a grotesque manner as the credits began to roll. The shape of Tristan was almost pulled off screen, like someone displaying an afterimage, but the screen went to static as we were left to unpack what we’d seen. Warren screamed, punching the wall over and over. Preston wailed into his sweater and Mathias… he just

This fucking animal killed our friend.

My better half.

My everything.

The shot rang out, and I felt my ears pop, my vision returned and I saw innumerable shapes, some 100ft away from me, some seated and others standing as they clamoured for the blood spurting from Tristan’s body. I swear some had horns and second mouths, but I could have just been hallucinating.

But as the music played, I felt a whooshing sound and the feeling of heavy ran running down my back as I fell forward and onto the pavement. I was outside my home and I could hear the commotion downstairs, voices raised and the air thick with anger. My body moved before my mind could react to what had happened, like an extreme version of fight or flight. I rushed in, smashing my elbows against the door frame and crossing the threshold, that fateful song playing as I dashed through the hallways.

“C’est La Vie”

The innumerable family photos, video game nights, sibling rivalries and late night talks pulling me back from the edge.

“C’est La Morte”

I dashed to the basement door, trying desperately to hold back tears.

“You and me”

After everything, I thought it would be me. That it would be my turn. Not him… not him…

“Forevermore.”

Running down the stairs, I hadn’t realised the exhaustion until that moment, my legs like jelly as I stumbled down the last few and turned the corner to see my best friends in shambles, Mathias in the corner still clapping as I saw red.“Heaven or hell or somewhere in between”

I grabbed him with all the strength I could muster and screamed at him.

Fay: Why?! Why would you do this? We loved you… you were like a brother to us!

Mathias: Because I wanted more. I still do. I spent my whole life keeping secrets, watching my family put those they love above everyone else. I did the exact same. Besides… there’s always been a part of me that felt we deserved this, for what happened up on Mantis Reach.

Fay: Why did we all have to suffer for what you wanted? Do you understand what you’ve done?

Mathias: Oh I always knew, I was the one who got the email offering us a chance to “tell the whole story” and to “absolve us of what we did” and I don’t know about you, but I WANT to be punished for what we did. Tristan was no different, it was appropriate he went first. Especially if he want back to finish what we started.

I slammed him against the wall and with the thud of his skull against the wood, I half expected him to crumble, but he just laughed and said “Tristan sleeps beneath the static.”

My anger raised as the group tried to wrestle me away, my face bloodied and filled with tears, the song still playing and the static beaming out of the TV.

“Cross your heart and take me with you, please”

It took one single voice calling from the stairs to snap me out of my rage and, for the most part, to pull us all to sanity.

“Don’t go, please don’t go.”

It was my mom, our mom. She was stood, drenched in the rain and utterly horrified at the sight of our group; Millie sobbing uncontrollably with her arms on my waist, Preston’s hair matted to his head in sweat and grimacing, Warren’s knuckles covered in blood and with me and Mathias in the middle of a scrap.

“Fay… Where’s your brother?”

“Don’t go without me.”