A teenage boy, tortured with the ability to read minds. A brother who only wants to hurt him. A power-hungry father who strives for world domination.
Evan was taken from his abusive home as a child and has lived in an orphanage for years. One day he decides to run away to escape all the thoughts invading his mind when he meets a girl named Hannah. The girl is a tool used by Evan's father to bring mind readers to him and use them to murder anyone who gets in his way.
Should he fight, or submit?
He was thinking up painful tortures to put me through. The man, remembering that I could read his thoughts, stopped pacing and decided on something. He abruptly left the room before I could find out what it was.
I had been seated on a chair in the center of the room and had been thinking about what Hannah had told me.
"He holds you of some value. That's a rare occurrence."
.....What could that have meant?
The Man entered the room again with something in both of his hands. Though he had said I didn't need any restraints, I somehow still ended up tied to a chair.
I looked closer at the man. He was... different. Just a tiny bit shorter. Taller than me, but not the same as before. This must not have been the same person.
In the small amount of light in the room I studied the figure and thought it possible to be a boy about my same age. His thoughts were unclear, so I had no idea what his intentions were. His mind was similar to the cloud I saw whenever I tried reading Hannah's mind.
The boy had black jagged hair and grey eyes. His clothes consisted of a plain black shirt and torn black, leather pants.
Torn leather?? I thought to myself.
A knife was in each of his hands. Red cuts lay on the back of his wrists and fresh ones painted the side of his face. The sight made me wonder if the cuts were given to him by someone else, or if he bestowed them upon himself.
"So." The boy's voice broke through my though my thoughts. "Evan, right? Damn, it's been so long. You've become quite the pretty boy, havent you?" He said with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
He saw the fear plastered on my face at the sight of his weapons. I gave no reply.
"Well, If you won't talk," The boy began, "I won't bother wasting my words. I thought maybe you'd like a few minutes before I begin drawing on you." He held up his knife and maliciously grinned.
"Yes!..." I burst out, "I'm E-Evan...... Wh-who are you?"
"Oh, good. Now we're making conversation. Name's Matt." The boy smiled and began twirling his knife in his right hand.
Matt seemed mischievous and dangerous.
The knife in his other hand was quickly placed on my neck. I gasped in surprise at the new feel of the cold blade on my skin. A small laugh escaped Matt's lips.
"So tell me... Ronan seems to favorite you among the rest of us," He explained.
"So I hear." I replied.
"Why is that?" Matt continued.
The name struck my mind. I knew that name... I had heard it before... but who was this person? Who was this... Ronan?
"I have never met him before. How should I know?" I sighed.
The boy laughed. "Oh, but you have..."
He drew the knife up my neck, peircing the skin and causing me to tightly clench my teeth together.
"It's been a while. But you know him better than you think."
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" I asked, thoroughly confused.
"You honestly don't remember the name? Ronan? You don't remember the pain and screaming? The hurt and tears? You can't tell me you've forgotten how your mother fell dead by his hand."
Memory came flooding back to me. Had I not been sitting down, I would have colapsed to the ground.
Evan was three years old.
He huddled in a ball in the corner, attempting to dodge the next kick or punch from his father.
His brother layed sprawled out on the floor with blood in his hair, unmoving. Red lines dripped from his dark locks onto his deathly pale skin.
Evan's father delivered a hard blow to the boy's chest and Evan screamed in pain as a loud crack sounded from his rib.
"You stupid boy!" His Father yelled.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again! never! Please don't! Daddy stop! You're hurting me!" Evan yelled and begged.
He had done nothing wrong. His father was drunk again. This happened every time. His mother tugged hard on the man's arm, trying to stop him from harming Evan any more.
"Daddy please! Stop!" His father punched him in the face and he landed hard on the ground. This was followed by several kicks to his side. When the drunken man was sure he was unconscious, turned to Evan's mother and began yelling at her. Soon he was mercilessly hitting her until her blood began showing on his fists.
Evan lay on the floor in pain as he watched the only parents he ever knew fight. Until his father drew a gun. Evan's eyes raced back to his brother nearly dead on the ground.
The sound of the door busting open suddenly hit his ears. "Ronan, stop!" an unfamilliar voice yelled. Then a loud shot was fired and his head bolted up to see his mother lying on the ground. Evan stared in horror at his mother lying dead on the floor, knowing she died trying to protect him. Nothing else mattered anymore. His wounds and injuries, no matter how badly they hurt or how serious they were, they didn't matter. His mother had just been shot dead. And it was all his fault.
The sound of his father running from the tragic scene echoed in his ears. He had no idea why this had happened. He was too young to understand. Ronan had been a scientist who was just fired for a discovery that he had made that turned into a major disaster. That was the reason he was so upset. But Evan didn't know.
Consciousness began to slip away from him and his vision darkened. He flinched as a pair of gentle arms picked him up and then all went black.
The memory faded and realization dawned upon me. Ronan.
Matt must have seen my eyes widen in terror once I knew who's control I was under once again.
And who was standing in front of me.
The other knife dragged deeply up the side of my arm. I winced and bit my lip.
What happened to you??
"Nice to see you again~" Matt grinned madly. "-Brother."