The Villainous Cruz Family

Chapter 38 - Fever Dream pt3

"...If you're going to die, stay dead, dammit." There I was, laying feebly on the concrete ground, seemingly talking to myself. My voice, cracked and hoarse, emitted sounds of defeat and anger as I replied to the spectral.

'Kill.'

"Go away, Justin. F.u.c.k.i.n.g die already."

That accursed voice could belong to none other that Justin, that cowardly bully, a dumb mutt who could only thirve on misfortune and kissing asses.

'Kill him.'

"F.u.c.k off. If it were so easy to kill him, I'd be the first to do it."

I remember this moment so clearly. Every cut that was made into my body was taken advantage of by Justin. The pain that ravaged this damaged body of mine was used to strengthen his dying soul, the soul that he f.o.r.c.i.b.l.y attached to mine with his ability before he died...The f.u.c.k.i.n.g bastard.

This was why I hated him so much. That snake tormented us to gain fuel for his ability, and then he used it to torment me even more. And now, even after death, he didn't forget his daily mission.

'Kill him and I will leave.'

"You know that's impossible, you asshole."

'Then I will stay, and get stronger.'

I chewed my bottom lip in frustration. It was impossible avoiding getting hurt in this forsaken hell hold. Damn it! If only I hadn't killed the dinner guy, then Justin would never have woken up again. He wouldn't have gotten so strong and eventually, he would have faded away into nothingness. But alas, I killed him, and Justin took the opportunity to piece back together his dying consciousness.

"...Fine, but only when the opportunity arises. I'm not dying for nothing."

'Okay.'

Then, the voice disappeared and the void that was created by his possession of my body faded just a little.

---

The next thing I could remember, I was laying in a small room filled with books and an old couch, and random cardboard boxes. Instantly, I recognised it to be the room that Don used to make us stay in. It was before he increased the amount of kids he held captive. The few of us stayed together in this place. Here, I was made to read all sorts of books on plants, so that I could use my ability more efficiently. However, once I got good enough, we were all moved to the bigger room and more kids were added and many more died.

I sat up from the couch and noticed a blanket sliding down to the ground. Whoever it was that took me here was nice enough to cover me up. They even healed all my wounds. Usually, the healer just made sure I didn't die or become a cripple.

As I examined my scars, I suddenly recalled something. In one of these boxes contained my belongings. Everything that I had on me on the day of my kidnapping was stored here. I remember I used to take it out and look at it before I went to sleep everyday. That was before I left it here, of course.

Rummaging through the boxes, I found a book titled 'The Knight And The Dragon'. I flipped through it frantically and finally found the item that kept me through the first few nights. It was a picture of me and my parents on my birthday. I c.a.r.e.s.sed it and again, tears dripping relentlessly down my cheeks.

The me in my photo had a broad smile, an unblemished body and clean clothes to wear. He looked happy in the photo, kind of blissful even. The me now, in the dream, was scarred in every place. A smile hadn't hung from these lips in years and only ragged cloths gave me some warmth. I looked nothing like I did in the photo.

At that moment, a thought flashed through my mind. If I ever made it out of this place, would they know who I was? Would they still accept me as their son even after all the things I did?

No! No! No! No! No! I shook the thought out of my head.

At that moment, Don barged into the room. Very briefly, I wondered how he had known I woke up but then I realised that he would have forced me awake if I wasn't. He didn't care either way.

"Hmm, you recovered quickly." The bald man sneered deviously. "Have you learnt your lesson yet?"

I nodded fearfully and answered, "Yes, Don. I'll never do it again."

"Good, because you're never seeing them again. You're staying in this room so you never forget." The man chuckled and hortled with sadistic glee. I never understood him and I still don't even now. What went through that mind of his always confounded me. Honestly, it was hardly a punishment.

Seeing that he left, I glanced back at the photo. It was basically the only thing left of my old life.

I flipped it to the back and placed it on a cardboard box. Then, I began to write. Trying to disguise my general gloom and attempting to emulate my past self, I wrote something resembling a letter. I don't really know why, but at that time, I considered it a ritual. Something symbolic of me finally giving up and cutting ties to all my hesitations. I had to kill Don, so before that, I had to kill myself.

I glued the photo in between two pages and hid it in the book. I was ready now. I was ready to die.

----

It was maybe a month or so after the incident. Don came into my room with a smirk.

"Your favourite child is being sold off now. You should say goodbye to her."

I don't know what he found so amusing about it, but at least it allowed me to see Io again. She, along with the other merchandise, were being led away from Don's men into a van.

"Albert!" She saw me, called me, and smiled at me. "You're alive!"

My legs moved before my brain had even thought to move. They walked, they ran and they jumped. Then, I was right in front of her.

She was still the sunshine child she was before but her body was riddled in scars and bruises just like mine.

"You have to live on." I hugged her and begged, almost like I was begging for her to live in my stead. "Become a treasure. Become someone they can't discard. But, don't be too precious. Make sure you can run away. And almost remember to smile. You have a really cute smile, did you know that?"

She seemed a little befuddled but before she could respond, the men heartlessly tore her away from my embrace. Then I was forced to watch as she was herded into that van, like some kind of livestock.

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