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Steve "KingSlayer" Davids · (02-13-2014)

The two men merged into the shadows. The deed had been done. Steve's Father was dead and gone, along with his brothers. This time forever, physically at least.

“Stewart, I need to be alone for an hour or so. I will catch up with you soon no doubt. Meet me back at the house.”

Steve spoke softly. It was evidential that he was extremely tired. Each word seemed to be a struggle, the old man still seemed riled up. He stared back at Steve and considered a moment whether it was a good idea allowing Steve to be alone. Despite that, Stewart knew that Steve was stubborn as hell and wouldn't give in to any pressure. Wisely, the experienced man simply nodded and put on a sad smile. He escaped the shadows that seemed to stalk Davids where ever he walked.

The rain drizzled onto Steve's bloody suit, he figured he was far enough away from all other people and knew he could not be caught. As Steve walked into the private woods, the shadows merged into human beings. The bearded man fell back against a large oak tree at the sight of these figures. The men were made of mist. It was as if his brain had immediately been leached. Steve's memory of these people had almost disappeared, even of those he promised never to forget.

Despite their faces being unclear, Steve knew who they were. His brother surrounded him, as did his uncle. The wraiths echoed torturous words, moonlight shined at their backs. The night's sky was blackened but stars glistened in the dark.

“You know it didn't have to be this way.” One of his brothers murmured.

“But it did. Father left me with no choice.” Steve responded.

“Didn't he? Have you ever heard of sacrifice?” Blaine questioned his nephew, Steve looked shocked at the wise man's cruel words.

Perhaps these weren't true memories of the men that left Steve with guilt eating away at him from the inside. He did not believe that his uncle would have been so harsh.

“I know of sacrifice Uncle. I know what you did for me, I mourned for days and weeks and months. Moving on is something that I had no choice of, whether you like that or not. Destroying my own family was something I had no choice of, whether you like that or not as well. The suffering that I have been through, the growing I have done. Thanks to you Blaine, thanks to Stewart. Do you think I would simply throw that away because my Father could not forgive me for something I could not help? I didn't murder my Mother.” Steve wept saddened words.

“Blame who you will and what you will. You're alone in this world now Steve. You know that Stewart is a mentor more so than he is a friend.” The other brother forced curses onto the psycho sensation.

“More lies. It seems you're more my Father than I first feared. Or at least you were. I mean tell me brother, how do hell's flames feel against your pale skin?” Steve questioned him, taunting him.

“You know Steve, there is only one true hell. You're living on it. I thought by now you would have known that. Look at you. You sit against a tree in the mud with your family's blood stained upon your suit. You think that death is any worse than that? Death is solemn peace compared to this. I met the reaper with open arms.” The man made of fog showed no emotion.

“Oh but of course, brother. The weak are ready to leave this world before they have reached their full potential. You seem content with not achieving anything other than following our Father around day after day listening to him preaching false words. He was a priest who never was a priest. He spoke like one, preached like one, and lied like one.” Steve responded.

“You seem envious that our father did not resent me as he did you Steve. Does that not bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me.” Steve looked down, a tear in his eye.

“Your own family searched for you every day in order to end your life, and you pretend that I am the unfortunate one. That we were the unlucky ones. We got to spend almost every day with our father whilst you dreamt of his wicked face day after day. Did it haunt you at night?”

“Always.”

“I never wanted to be saved in that house Steve, but I did want the image of you murdering your family to haunt you... until the end of your days. Live with your decision. As we did.” That brother then vanished into the clouds like a bolt of light. Steve looked up into the heavens but knew that no body lurked upon those clouds except men in planes.

“You have made an error in what you have done brother, can't you see that living on this world with no family and no friends just simply isn't worth it? Even in that wrestling federation you compete in, they all hunt in packs and there you stand.” The second brother, who was usually quieter than the other spoke bitter words.

“And here I stand.”

“Alone, isolated. You have no one to rely on. You made a mistake!”

“I have made many mistakes in my life brother, and this was not one of them.” Steve responded, the words becoming more draining each time he spoke. His energy was next to nothing.

The second brother just shook his head and faded into the swamps as if he had merged into hell. Though Steve knew that all that lurked under there was moles and worms.

'So it is you and I' Steve's look seemed to say as he gazed at his uncle made of mist.

“It's always been you and I.” His uncle stated, reading Steve's mind.

“How did you?...”

“Well you didn't think we were actually hear did you Steve? We're all in here.” Blaine pointed to his head and raised his eye brows, hoping Steve would realize just how obvious it was.

Steve looked away for a moment, into the darkness. He turned, another tear trickled down his face. Glances away once more.

“I killed my own brothers.”

“We did. You did this for me remember.”

“They weren't your brothers. I murdered my own family and what do I have to show for it? This world has no justice, this world has no vengeance. Not truly. They sleep in eternal blackness and I am the one who continues to suffer. How is that vengeance? How is that justice? I do my duty, and I keep my honour and for what? I stand alone in this world now. Every bit of blood I shared rots in peril.”

Steve turns, his uncle has vanished into the fogs.

“I killed them all. Now look at me. It is I who is truly lost.”

Steve's words echo into the empty wood, with only the winds and the rain to hear his suffering.

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