The Father

"M-Max..." a chilling voice creeped up on Max's ears, the wind making him shiver. He was definitely hearing Reese's voice in his head. "Jesus. Reese! Can you hear me?! Reese!" His wavering voice echoed in the dark vastness of Reese's yard, the long gravel driveway leading up to his house.

The wind, along with the dampness of the freshly falling rain, chilled Max to the bone. Reese had been at the arcade with Max down the road, when the manager had called Reese back to the phone. It was a full two minutes before Reese came back. And he Ran past Max. Not saying a single word. But tears were in his eyes, and the way he clutched his jacket with his right hand, as if his life depended on the thing.

Always worried. He ran out, and Max heard the engine as the car drove off, Reese in it. Max had been left alone at the arcade to wonder what would happen to Reese, why he left, and what was so bad he couldn't tell his own boyfriend.

Max, after the realization hit him that Reese wasn't coming back, panicked, and ran out. He ran all the way to Reese's house from there. Only a few roads. But still, long ones. And now, Max was terrified of the possibility that he could've been kidnapped, or his little sister hurt.

And you couldn't forget his father. His dad was insane, and the only reason Reese wasn't in a foster home with his sister, safely away from their dad, was solely because his father had threatened to kill everyone Reese loved, including him, if he called the police, ever. Some might say that's unrealistic, but Reese yelled at him and ran to the phone, only to be stabbed in the arm.

After that, his psychotic dad made him sit there and bleed out while he told him how many people he'd killed and gotten away with. How his mother died at his hands. When he finished, he took Reese to the hospital, explaining he slipped and fell onto a shard of glass. That's all Reese told Max though. Never anything else, except "if you know how much I love you, you will never go near my father."

Well, he was right about one thing. He loved Reese. But he also had a right mind to die for him if it came to it. Thus, stupid. Or romantic.

Hearing a very faint scream, no doubt from the house, Max's heart beat faster. "Shit shit shit. Don't die Reese. Please." He said through the rain and cold, his teeth chattering. He started on a run, to the house, adrenaline pumping his legs for him. Another scream. A child's. Reese's little sister.

Getting close to the lighted windows of the house, Max stuck to the shadows, and crept up to the window. He looked into the living room, nothing but a TV playing and a dim lamp. However, all the upstairs lights were on. Shadows moved behind pink curtains, in the room diagonal and up from Max. Sarah's room. Another scream, and a small figure, followed by a large one wielding a knife, crossed the curtains as shadows. Sarah sounded helpless. Then a lower, scratchier voice yelled. "Git yer little ass over here, bitch!"

Then another voice yelled. It was desperate. Scared. "Get your hands off of her! Don't you dare hurt my goddamn sister, you bastard! I swear, I will call the police before you even realize it, I will-" suddenly, all goes quiet, except for the panicked sobbing of Sarah. Her sobbing gets even louder, and she screams. "Dad! Stop! Don't kill him! Please! Stop! No!" She screams bloody murder, and sobs some more. Quieter.

Max's heart is caught in his throat at the possibility that Reese might be seriously hurt. Or... no. Can't think about that now. He makes his way to the back of the house, opening the screen door, and stepping inside, making sure not to make a single sound.

Another yell resounds from upstairs, and Max is reminded to be hasty. He looks on the kitchen counter, finding the knife block, and picking up the two largest knives. He slowly, terrified, made his way up the stairs. Shadows bounce on the wall of the hallway as he crept toward Sarah's room. Taking a deep breath, ready for the worst, Max stepped in. Sarah stared at him, her dark brown curls and green eyes watching him, and hinting her father, facing her, to look behind him.

Her father was practically her twin, dark brown hair, green eyes, skinny frame. The difference, was his drunken stance, stubble, and knife in hand. And Sarah had a red streak running down her face, and ties around her hands to the bed leg. A dropping head told Max he'd probably given her a concussion. Reese's father stared at him, and licked his lips.

Neither Max nor Reese's father made a move. It struck in Max's brain that he may be able to work it out, but it took him longer to find his small voice. "If..." his chest hurt from the panic. "If you Promise not to hurt your kids anymore, and put them up for adoption, or into foster care... we can all forget this happened. Please. Don't hurt them. They did nothing."

Their fathers cheek flinched, and his knuckles grew white, gripping the knife. "Nothing? You think they did nothing? How the hell do you know about me then, huh? That's right. You wouldn't know, if they hadn't done anything. But they compromised me, with you. And now your gonna die. But your gonna watch your friends die first."

He was too fast and experienced for Max to dodge the first unexpected blow to the face. Soon, he was tied up next to Sarah, gagged, and punched a few more times. He wanted to ask Sarah what was going to happen next, but he couldn't speak through the gag to her. She just stayed quiet, still, and shocked to the bone.

Max Heard a thump across the room, and a body slide onto the floor. Reese! "Mrrmph!" Was all Max could manage, a tear running down his cheek. Reese looked completely apart from either his dad or his sister, because his mother was different.

He had angelic jet black hair, a fit body, small mouth, elegant neck, and a tall frame. In other words, Max's dream boy. But his eyes were something amazing all on their own. They changed colors, from a silver gray to a light periwinkle purple, one of the rarest eye colors. And his eyelashes were black, and long. He had the cutest laugh, and the prettiest voice. He could mesmerize Max for hours when he sang, his voice delicate, as if not to hurt Max with his words, but also so steady and loving. Max longed to hear his voice, laugh with him. But right now, his once beautiful hair was marred with clots of blood, and his shirt bloodied. His lips had blood on them, and one pretty eye was bruised. And His fathers devilish hand was on him, lifting him up.

If Max hadn't been staring at him constantly, he would've thought he was knocked out. It took a few moments to realize Max was in front of him, and when he did, his eyes widened. He finally looked alive. But in his eyes, you could see fear. Deathly fear. And pain. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he swallowed hard.

"M-Max. Why are you here, cutie?" More tears followed, and it took everything Max had not to cry too. He tried to say he loved Reese, but the gag stopped him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Reese's father punched him in the face, laughing as he watched Max gasp. Another punch followed after another. He couldn't bear to see this. Especially with Reese's eyes staring helpless, into his own.

Suddenly, he felt something sharp brush his fingers. The kitchen knife! It must've been swept under the bed. He got hold of it, cutting the rope. Once he got free, he wanted so badly to lunge for Reese's father, but instead made an ally with Sarah by cutting her free.

Max squeezed her hand, transmitting an unknown signal, and he took his gag off, and the two stood up. Sarah yanked her lamp viciously off the table in fear, tearing the outlet from the wall, darkening the room.

She held it in front of her, prepared to break it to make a weapon. Max held the knife. And in the dim light, they froze, as they were about to pounce on their father. He held a knife at Reese's throat, his head tilted back, exposing his vulnerable flesh. Blood dropped down his neck and face from his mouth and various punch wounds. Reese sobbed a bit, shutting his eyes, expecting the death blow.

His father snickered. Max hated him with a scary kind of hatred. One most might even regret. "You take one more step, either of you, and Sarah, I slit your brothers throat. And then I'll choke you both till your dead." Max scowled, acting confident, when really his bones shook from the possibility of Reese's death.

"Then why the hell did you have kids? Or a wife? We're you just gonna kill them too?!" He laughed hard, and Sarah catches him off guard when she breaks the lamp, throwing it at him. He jolts to the side, his knife steering away from Reese's throat.

Now was Max's chance. He ran to him, swiping his knife from his hand. He stumbled drunkenly, suddenly terrified. Max grabbed Reese by the shirt, dragging him away from his father, who was preoccupied with Sarah's lamp landing and shattering on his head. He screamed, and in a rage, forcefully grabbed Sarah by the throat, slamming her against the wall.

She scrabbled at his hands, her feet dangling. "Sarah!" Reese hollered. Before Max could stop him, Reese had knocked his fathers head aside, loosening his grip on Sarah. She fell, running over next to Max, coughing up blood, and choking. She reached her limit of mental sanity, hugging Max's leg. She sobbed. Reese was now in her place. He made choking sounds, and his tongue stuck out a little. He struggled against his fathers iron grip, his eyes wide. Max finally shook Sarah off his leg, and took a final swing at his father with the kitchen knife, hitting home.

The knife stuck out gruesomely from his fathers chest, and he stumbled back in shock. He fell to his knees. Then the floor. Blood pooled around him. He was dead. Sarah and Reese coughed up blood, and it made Max shiver. It sounded so painful. Sarah and Reese, at their last effort and barely able to walk, hugged Max on the way downstairs to the phone, where Max called the police and the ambulance.

By the time they got there, Max was in shock, sobbing, holding both of them in his arms, passed out and bloody. Their breath wheezed in their crushed throats, and Max had thought they were going to die. Sarah and Reese went in the same ambulance, but Max was split up into a different one. He cried for them. He screamed till his voice grew hoarse. Eventually, a needle was stabbed into his arm, and he drifted off into a sad, lonely, and frightful sleep, awaiting his friends.