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It all happened very fast.
One second, I was standing in front of the door, still processing the fact I was able to actually lie to Gabe and pretend everything was fine when all I could think, staring at his face, was how much pain he put me through, how he tormented me night and day, played on my fears, victimized me, tried to break me.
The next second? I see Chase waltz sheepishly in the hallway, falling behind Kinsey, the enemy, standing in our house. I don't know what happened. Maybe the earth finally spun too fast and I flew off the surface with my mind light-speeding into space. Maybe I had drank too much and my mind couldn't handle another added weight of stress to my already pretty much fucked up head--there wasn't enough room left at this point that the pressure was practically suffocating the entirety of space, my skull squeezing against the confined sides, begging for release from it's own pestilential purgatory.
What I did though not only surprised my siblings, but it also surprised me.
Without a second's thought, I dragged my heavy feet that suddenly felt light straight toward Chase, my siblings questioning my antics, Chase trying to take a step back putting up surrendering hands, pleading that I allow him a moment to explain, but I refused his pathetic excuses. I was blinded by rage, and when I threw my hand back, delivering a regrettably (regrettable for me since I'm pretty sure I just sprained my fist) forceful blow to his face, squarely hitting him in the nose with the satisfying emittance of a loud SNAP. If that wasn't enough, the impact staggered him back as he let out a low groan, immediately clutching his nose.
I could care less how much it hurt him, or how pathetic he looked with holding his bleeding nose. If anything, he deserved worst then that, but I didn't have enough fists to go around unless I wanted broken fingers, and I wasn't exactly looking for surgical fixes.
Seething at the boy in absolute spite, I added a little more venom by spitting at his feet. Just for good measure.
"What the hell was that?!" Kinsey demanded, stunned as she went to tend to Chase whom now was putting his head back so that the blood didn't dribble down and stain his flannel. Kinsey looked at me like I finally lost it (maybe I did, but in my defense, I was the one whom was dealt the worst hand by Dodge's ploys. Chase was just another puppet pulled by his strings). And not like it'll matter anyways when I find a knife and lodge that in his stomach, after all, he can heal.
I rubbed my tender fists vehemently, staring him down with disgust. My eyes managed to snap to Kinsey, my nose flaring, teeth gritted in clutch. "He's one of them," I hissed, Kinsey's eyes widening in realization as she took a step back away from Chase. "It's all been a lie Kinsey! Dodge--Gabe, they're the same fucking person! And Chase is working for him! He's like Eden! He's a fucking demon, Kinsey!"
"W-What?" She breathed, fear tripling in her gaze as she stepped further back, worried that if she gets too close to him, she'll get burned.
Tyler then approached, his jaw locked into place, wedging a barrier in between us and Chase, "You what? Is this true?"
