The Blue-Eyed Demon

5

10 years before 

"Dirk! Dave! I'm going out! Lock the doors behind me, you know the drill." Rang a voice through the brothers' house. It was their father's voice. They quickly ran over to him, the three year old Dave tripping over himself, and the nin year old Dirk helping him. "When will you be home again?" asked the 9-year old, looking up at his father. He was a very attractive man, with finely chisled cheekbones. "When I'm finished with this hunt. Take care of your brother for me." He said, ruffling Dirk's hair and starting out the door.

As he closed the door, the older brother locked the door and glanced at his brother. "He's out again, buddy." He said, patting Dave's head. Dave seemed slightly upset, and so did Dirk. He felt slightly uneasy about his father's trip this time. He waved it away, smiling at his brother in an attempt to reassure him. It seemed to have worked, because the three year old climped onto the couch and said, "Will you watch something with me?" Dirk smiled and sat with his adorable younger brother. "Sure." He replied. 

After several hours of watching television together, the boys were growing slightly drowsy. In fact, Dave was passed out of the couch, drool streaming from his mouth. Just as Dirk was about to pick him up and take him to bed, he heard a loud noise from outside their door, and two voices arguing.

Dave jumped awake and stared at Dirk with wide eyes for an explanation. Dirk shrugs and puts a finger to his lips and points at the window. They both nod and peek out of the glass square to see their father and a much larger man fighting and shouting at each other. The larger man glanced at the window to see the boys. When the boys saw his eyes, they gasped. They were pure black, as if the pupils had dilated so much they engulfed the whole eyes. Dave whimpered softly and looked at Dirk with eyes on the verge of tears. He knew dad had risky work, but he didn't know it was this bad. 

Their father aimed a rifle at the man, only for it to be snatched out of his grip. The man with the black eyes turned the rifle and pointed it at their father, his finger on the trigger. He then said loud enough for the boys to hear, "Once I kill you, old man, I'll be going after those children there and sending them straight back to hell." He kicked their dad's legs out from under him and stomped onhis chest, firmly keeping his foot in place. Their father coughed and sputtered blood, smirking widly. "They're tough. You won't catch them anytime soon." He growled out at his attacker. The man grunted and pulled the trigger, filling the boys' ears with the gunshot, and their widened eyes with the blood of their caretaker.