Extreme

9. Mother Knows Best

The sun was setting over the city of Melbourne, the sky becoming an evening red.

Liam and his mother were sitting at a small table at their balcony. With a smile, Liam watched as his mother fixed up his zombie figure. She glued it's disconnected arm on it's body gently, the once dead now undead. After putting in it place, she passed it over to him with a warm smile.

Liam eagerly grabbed hold it of it, already playing with it. He made it growl, keeping it's arms outstretched as he moved it across the small table towards the end. There, he made it drop to ground, it's body hitting dead in his mind.

"Liam, be responsible of your toys," His mother scolded, looking at him disappointed.

He quickly picked it up, head looking down as he felt guilt. "Sorry, Mummy," He mumbled to her quickly.

She nodded her head, approving his apology. "And what do you say when someone does a favour for you?" She then asked him.

He looked up, smiling. "Thankyou, Mummy," He thanked.

His mother nodded again, picking up her tea with a small smile on her lips. "We must respect each other, no matter how different we may seem," She told him, her words from then always staying in the back of his mind.

"But what about the bad ones?" He asked her, frowning.

His mother looked at him for a minute, unsure if she should tell him. But her smile twisted in a frown like his own, her eyes widening in fright. With her face pale, she tried to speak, but couldn't utter a word.

Saliva drooled out of her mouth, her head instantly going down as she throw up blood all over her dress and the ground below. She gripped the edge of the table hard, knuckles turning white as she screamed in agony.

Liam jumped up, startled. He tried to comfort his mother with shakey hands but she slapped them away, her head still facing downwards. With her hands tight on the table, her arms seemed more pale, more...different.

He backed away, looking at her with horror. He didn't know what to as he only watched his mother suffer, fearful she was going to die right then and there.

"Daddy!" He screamed loudly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he called out for his father.

Like a blur, his father ran up to his mother, gripping tightly onto her arms. She struggled beneath his strength, kicking and shrieking. He looked at her with such fright, it frightened Liam.

"Ellie, calm down. Please," He tried to speak to her softly, but she only snarled back.

His father looked at him, and before he knew it, he was dragging his mother by her hair until he reached the edge of the balcony. And there, he pushed her roughly over the balcony wall. Her shriek was deafening to his ears.

With a long shriek, her screams cut to a stop once her body hit the ground dead.

"W-what did y-you do to Mummy?" Liam asked his father, hands covering his mouth with wide eyes.

"What I had to do," His father hesitantly answered, staring down at her dead body stories below with a pale face.

"N-no," Liam shook his head with tears streaming down his eyes, refusing to believe she was really dead. "No, no, no, no."

Just as his father was coming up to him to pull him in a comforting hug, Liam flinched. He looked at his father with hate, angered and disturbed by his own father would kill her right in front of his eyes.

His father no longer was the father he knew anymore.

"I would have never hurt her, but she was killing me! I had to protect me. Protect us." His father tried to reason with his actions of murdering his mother.

"You. Killed. Her." Liam seethed with anger, tears threating to spill some more.

A man suddenly screamed at the bottom floor below.

His father quickly ran over to him, wrapping his arms around him as he covered his ears. The screams of the man sounded muffled through his father's hands as he tried to pry them off, fearing him more than the terrified screaming.

His father slowly let him go, picking him up in his arms. He screamed, trying to thrash and scratch himself out of his arms with all his might. But his father only tightened his hold on him, taking him over to the edge of the balcony.

Liam's heart dropped as he realised what his father was going to do.

"This is for the best, I promise," His father assured him, but something else spoke it as not.

Liam shrieked as his father threw him to the ground roughly, landing onto the hard ground as his mother had done. As he hit the ground, he died like all the rest that would that night.

Instantly, he awoke in a dark room.

His first thoughts was the hunger he felt in the pits of his stomach, the craving on his tongue and the strong scent of blood all around. All memories before was forgotten, his mind already distracted with the new chapter of his life.

His eyes searched the room for the blood and flesh he craved desperately for, like the predator searching for the prey with hungry eyes. His eyes caught sight of a figure his size, kneeling down in the corner of the room he was chained in.

He pulled at his chains, trying to get the boy from afar with his eyes only seeing red.

Hesitantly, the unknown boy got up and slowly made his way toward him.

"Hey," He greeted him, tense as he tried to bring his hand forward.

Liam abruptly stopped, staring at his hand in wonder. Slowly, he placed his hand in his with a little understanding. He felt he could remember seeing it in action, but maybe in another lifetime.

"My name's Francis," The boy, Francis, acquainted himself. He sat down on the floor across him with a small smile. "My father saved your life, you know? He wanted to try an experiment out, and it fortunately worked. You're living but you're dead. Don't worry, you'll be living some time soon. My father says you're strong to have even made it from the dead, and that..."

For the rest of that night, Francis told Liam many things. He didn't understand a word, but his voice held some familiarity. And so, he stayed still, engaged in whatever he had to say.

From then was when his new life truely began.

Liam opened up his eyes awake, wincing once he felt the burning pain in his leg. His head was throbbing painfully, likely having got a headache from the harsh hit he received in the head by the man.

Instantly, he tensed at the thought of the man.

His memories all came back to him, from the protest, the angry men and the chase. His eyes darted left to right as he paled, seeing that he was resting in a dark room like he had for many years in his past.

He tried to get up, but chains pulled him back roughly. His wrists were cuffed in metal, his arms forced to stand upright beside him. The metal clang loudly as he tried to pull himself forward again with all the force he could manage.

It must've been loud enough for other's to hear as the dangling of keychains unlocked the door to his cell, the door opening up wide and loud.

It was the man who had chased him down from before.

The man came in without a look of anything as he then closed the door behind him. He let the keys dangle beside him as he walked over to him, his eyes then staring darkly as their eyes met.

"Why, hello there," He greeted him, hands at his front in a imitating manner. "The name's Dean Xander. And I'm here to talk to you."

"You mean kill, likely?" Liam asked, not amused.

"Precisely," Dean replied, taking out his gun. "But let's talk first."
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Word count: 1359