The Uncle

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"What is he doing here."

Your mother was taken aback by your stern tone. It was not a question, rather a statement. Her face melted from hesitance to fear.

John Kreese stood from his chair slowly, challenging you with his vicious stare. "Just meeting my niece for the first time."

As he took a step toward you, your arm extended as a warning. "Stay away from me!"

He ignored your rage and took another step toward you. His smile only grew. Your stomach turned and you felt as though you were going to be sick. When the horrendous truth washed over you, your lip trembled.

"You knew this whole time."

Hearing your words, your mother stood up from the table behind him with a questioning look in her eyes. She looked between you and your uncle, fearful of the situation before her.

"You two have met before?" Her voice shook.

Without pulling his eyes from you, he addressed your mother's concerns. "I fear your daughter may be delusional."

"He's lying!" You shouted.

"John." Your mother stated.

He turned to her then, his smile twisting into a scoff. "Oh come on, don't tell me you believe her. She's the one who didn't want to meet me, remember? Of course she would do anything to get out of this interaction."

Without skipping a beat, your mother snapped. "You didn't really think I would take your word over my daughter's, did you?"

Unsatisfied, he nodded his head slowly and turned back to you. "Alright fine," he admitted, "we had a few run ins."

"And you knew the truth the whole time." You hissed.

"What," he laughed, "you thought I wouldn't recognize my own niece? You look just like your father. Act like him too. After the first time we met, I went to my father's old record shop to see who was running it. Lo and behold, your mother was standing behind the counter, confirming my suspicions."

He began walking, circling around you. Remaining rooted to the floor, your muscles tensed.

"I had been waiting for this moment for a very long time," he continued, "I knew it was only a matter of time before you showed up."

"That's enough, John." Your mother said sternly.

"Oh, I'm just getting started."

"John," your mother warned, "this wasn't a part of the deal."

He stopped in front of you, looking to your mother who was seething with anger.

"Our deal," he said, "was to meet my niece and keep my distance. But I already met my niece. So the rules don't apply to me here."

"Step back from her, John!"

He kept his eyes narrowed on you as he obeyed, stepping back and returning to the table. Your breathing slowed again as you regained awareness of the situation at hand.

"You're a psychopath." You spat.

"Ouch," he held a hand to his chest and sarcastically pretended he was offended, "have mercy on your poor uncle."

"Have mercy?" You yelled, "you're the one to talk about showing mercy. That crap you teach to your students, what was that again... showing no mercy? You drill that into their brains from the moment they wake up, until they go to sleep. Dusk to dawn. I don't even want to know how many hours a day you spend molding them to your will."

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