He sat on the window ledge. Eyes darting left and right through the compound in front of him. His focus was all over the place. Nothing in his mind; just blank.
His long dark hair was blasted by the wind towards the room. He had untied his queue and let his natural hair enjoy the feeling of the wind brushing finely through his hair. His grey eyes were locked ahead, downhill onto the city. His eyes always seemed to be deep in thought, but no one ever knew what he was thinking. Even he himself had no idea on who he was. To him the world was an endless prison, and the mind was his only solace. It was his sanctified temple where he could dwell in silence without any worry in sight.
His focus moved back onto their compound. There she was, Alicia, her sister. Alicia was hopping onto the back of her boyfriend's bike. Ready to sneak out as was her norm on Saturday afternoons.
He shouted from where he was,
"You do know if Mr. Frelington found out that his beloved daughter was going out with a thug from the streets..."
" What if he found out that his crowned jewel knew about it and didn't dare speak a word!? Alex, just let me be... This is my life. Find yours." Alicia shouted louder.
" Look, don't do this. You're much more than a thug's go-to toy!"
" Alex!" Alicia's eyes showed two starkly contrasted emotions: hurt and shock. She looked at her brother as if trying to prove that he had not just called her a toy. Her throat scratched as she wanted to say more. Alex cut her even before a syllable brushed past her vocal cords.
" Truth hurts... doesn't it?" He paused and pushed his legs over the ledge, leaned downwards to face his sister straight through her eyes. HIs eyes were the same. Empty yet deep. The grey made him look so cold, even to the sister who had seen him grow through smiles and jolly moments.
"That hubby of yours only likes you for benefits. He doesn't know a thing about love... And it seems he's got you wrapped round his finger! You're a puppet for him Alicia... A puppet!"
"Alex Frelington, if you know what's right for you shut up now!"
" Or else what? What will you do? What haven't you done to us at this point Alicia? Dropped out of school? Spent money on worthless trash even when it hurt Mum and Dad the most? Jailed for drug use? Dated thugs like this guy here?... What is it that you have not done to hurt us as your family?" He stopped speaking. He could feel his voice crack from the hurt of his words, and by extension the action of his sister.
"What have you not done that makes you think you can hurt me again Alicia? WHAT!"
Alicia just stood there shocked. She tried to speak but something held the words in her.
Her silence spoke words to Alex. He leaned his head even more downwards. He could see Alicia's eyes drowning in tears which she so desperately tried to hold back. Her eyeliner distorted slightly at the edge of each eye as the tears tried to burst the walls of the dams Alicia had built.
"Thought so too... You never had it in you to face up and accept the truth. That's why that rascal, and even more will take you for granted... You're worth more than this. When will you see!?" Alex said, this time his tone showed valid proof of concern which felt alien for his cold nature.
"Rot in hell Alex."
Alicia jumped onto the bike that was now revving its engine. Branson, the driver, revved it even louder as if to mock Alex the more. He looked up straight towards Alex's face and smiled.
"See ya brother in-law!"
"Maybe in hell!" Alex responded with a cold frozen tone. His words seemed like a casual brush off, but his face and his tone gave it weight. Every word he had just said, he meant.
The two drove off as Alex watched them. He watched as the bike lights disappeared in the tree-walled road heading to the city downhill
"Let the painter paint!?" Alex muttered to himself as he stared in the dark hill slope. The lights of the bike fading in and out in between the trunks of the tall trees. This line was what his father had once told him with regards to the freedom he once wanted.
"What if he falls of the ladders?" His father had once asked him. Now he understood what his father meant. But the truth hurt him the more.
******
Alex moved back into his room and saw his dark feather jacket on the hangs. He picked up his phone. It screamed ' Wednesday, 12:52am'. His short session in his temple had run for more than eight hours. He was not shocked at this though. It was a norm for him. He moved to his bed and laid on his back facing the pure white ceiling. The silence was peaceful he thought. But that was odd. Her sister would have had music blasting on her speaker in her room right adjacent to his; especially when their parents were not around. He knew she had not returned from her 'date'.
He took his car keys and wore his jacket. He then jumped out his windows and landed on their porch. In his pocket he fished out a key to his Father's Cadillac. He took to the lightly foggy road with one destination in mind. In his mind his father's question sang again and again and again. And to that he found an answer:
"Yet as it seems the painter must paint, he only stops once his ladders are cut."
He smiled. The dull grey moon wash on his face formed a slit showing the eye level and above. His hair was still untied. The open window kept forcing it to dance silkily in the air. His eyes stuck up ahead but not at the road, but at what was waiting for him ahead: something better for him and his family.
Minutes later the Cadillac was parked at Mafore street. He tried to ask around for his loving sister's thug, but everyone showed him off. Only one thing though, he never quit so easily. He started to roam around trying to find the landmarks he had once seen when dropping his siter off during her first meets with 'Prince Charming'. You'd expect such a rich kid to be robbed in such thug streets but the way he shot glances at thugs left them perilous. His deep grey eyes made him look like some werewolf ready to tear his offender in seconds. Some would normally say, he was.
He glanced down at his phone, still 1 pm. Then he decided to phone Alicia. Two waiting tones and then he heard it. From the corner right in front of him her sister's favourite Bermudian ukelele ringtone reverberated through the alleys.
He was happy to find her but couldn't seem to face the fact that she was in an alley corner doing heaven knows what. HIs joy then melted back to his normal cold nature. 'Mr nice guy' vanished in less than two second and dark werewolf was back. He moved closer. Ten paces from the turn, he heard his sister's shrilling cry tear through the air.
He moved faster resisting the urge to run for his posterity. He manoeuvred the turn and found himself viewing a scene he wished he would have never seen. Three men stood ahead of him facing away. All of them so fashionably adorned in the suits gifted to them by the creator. One of them had rather familiar pale-yellow hair. Then his gaze fixed on a naked woman laying head down and pushed against the wall. Her hair was black and untied, in a somewhat silky curtain over her face. A familiar strand of white hair originating from the right part of her hairline caught his eye. Only one person he knew had that, Alicia.
He could not believe his eyes. Her entire body under the silverish moonlight radiated. Her curved body perfectly exfoliated by the wash of grey light. Her balloons popping from the chest standing out between feet of two of the three men. A little zoom in and they had scratch marks. He saw one of the men squeeze her right balloon aggressively. It was the guy with the yellow hair; Branson.
" What are you doing to my sister?" He roared in anger.
The trio turned to face him. They exposed their disgusting selves to innocent Alex; head to toe. Branson broke out laughing upon realising that the person in front of him was Alex.
"Oh... brother-in-law, you weren't supposed to see that! It's just as you said... I am just playing with my toy!" Branson said in a cool sinister tone, a sinister smirk taking form on his face.
"Why would you do that..." Alex asked with his voice breaking. He looked at Branson straight to the face. He saw the monster he did not want to believe he was. Branson smiled this time and looked at Alex straight in the eyes, shamelessly and fearlessly.
"It's like you always say, a painter has to paint!"
He broke up in laughter so loud that the echo made it deeper and booming.
Alex wanted to tear his skin off his body. The hurt and rage boiled in him. He charged towards the guy. His only goal was to lay his hands on Branson and make him late. One of the assaulters had other plans. Alex felt a sharp pang to his back as if being hit by an arrow to the lumbar spine. He fell forward and dust arose from his thud. Two men held him by either hand and lifted him to face Branson. He tried to force himself out of their grip but felt a sharp pain to the same spot again. He wanted to fall but the men's grip was tight. Then the nitwit held his chin and lifted his face towards his. His breath reeked of alcohol and whatever drugs he and his mates used.
"You weren't supposed to see this, but I can't kill you now, can I?"
He paused and gazed into his grey eyes. " You seem to forget that a bear can kill....and be killed Alex... Sometimes even by the smallest of snakes. Not because of brute force though, no! Not at all! Venom works too..."
He walked back at the almost lifeless female. His body moving so pridefully as if he were a lion moving towards his hunted prey.
" What's a better punishment than watching your dear Alicia die?"
Alex felt his body paralyse with fear. As much as he did not want to believe his ears, he had no option but to. But his brain refused to process what he was hearing. He could feel a hot tear falling like a streak on his cheek.
Branson leaned downwards to close up on Alicia. He progressed to make a caress on her body again. Alex could not keep his cool. He watched as the hand migrated lower and lower to the one destination he knew. He couldn't avert his eyes. Why were they forcing him to watch this? He wanted to jump and pound on the guy and tear him to pieces: skin, meat and bones. He heard whispers around him. Deep and shrilling like glass breaking in an empty warehouse. The whispers fuelled his thoughts, constantly chanting," Only skin, meat and ones will be left..."
Alex gave in to the idea. Rage and pain filled his body. He could feel his body get heavier as if a burden was falling on him. He shut his eyes as a sharp pain swirled in his head. He screamed loudly as Branson laughed at him in mockery/
The wind picked up. It started as rustles but grew into string wind which sounded like the whispers. The wind chanted in a deeper voice, "Only skin, meat and bones..." By reflex, Branson turned to face Alex. He saw someone else. His eyes were glowing red, blood red. HIs normal grey was nowhere to be seen. In his eyes, Branson saw the one thing that could end the world if it wanted. A thirst for vengeance. Alex's view was fixed on him. Alex then said while staring deep into Branson's eyes," Small as the snake is, the lion still respects it. But if it crosses its lines, the venom does its job."
Alex let out a laugh and suddenly let himself fall to a kneeling position and pounding his fist on the ground on either side of his captors. He focused his vision ahead into the blank front. The men holding him were lifted by the force of his pound. He lifted his open palms and instantly the men were levitating mid-air in air bubbles. He moved his open palms forwards, and the bubbles moved forwards ahead of him. He then clenched his hands into fists. Then suddenly the bubbles of air compressed and shrinked in a split second. The men bodies exploded in chunks of flesh and splashes of blood. It was raining blood on Branson.
He then fixed his gaze on Branson. Alex's face had slashes of blood but only on his right side. His dark long silky hair was soaking with blood.
"Ever heard of paint the town red!" He said as he faced the last of his targets.
"What are you?" Branson asked in pure shock. He tried to run but every muscle in his body refused to work. The shock left him paralysed. HIs eyes were fixed on Alex's as if he were hypnotized by his blood thirst.
"The devil!"
Alex lifted his right palm. Instantly the man was set aloft in his air ball. He put his left palm over his right palm and twisted the left. Instantly, Branson's upper body started to rotate as his lower body stayed still. Snaps were all that was heard. Branson screamed in pain, making Alex feel even more enjoyment. He continued twisting until he felt Branson had felt all of the pain he deserved. His body twisted fully like the head of an owl. But his body did now separate in halves though. This was the precision Alex desired so as to enjoy killing the brute.
He lifted his left and lowered the right. Branson's body snapped in half. He then lowered his palms, and the two halves fell to the ground with the same immense force. He picked his palms again and swiped his hand to the left and right, repeatedly. Branson's body halves were bashed on the walls again and again with immense force. With every bash the walls acquired a scarlet red paint job while Branson became nothing but blobs of flesh with cracked bones. After thirty or so swipes he let the blobs fall to the floor.
He then turned and saw Alicia scrambling to a corner. She sat there and wept loudly.
Then it was blackout!
The next day the police found the scene and recorded the details as four dead males and an assaulted female. Alicia Frelington was taken to a psychiatric hospital for a post trauma mental treatment after she gave a testimony of seeing men being lifted midair and torn in halves by a tall man-like figure.
Alex's phone was traced to the same place as her sister's. They concluded his case as deceased.
Alex was gone!