Chapter 4:
“He, I don’t know what he did really. But he did something to my father, like brainwashed him. He was ready to die for him, at any time for any reason. Once this happened he seemed so consumed in making Spade all powerful that he didn’t seem to have any time for me, and my brother Josh. Of course after my mom died we were all so preservative about our emotions. Soon secrets formed between my father and Josh and I. Not good ones. Not good at all. So we started to spread apart. Yet every day he had Josh and I go down to the gym and practice combat and defense. Just as we got good our father drug us down enthusiastically to Spades headquarters. My father ran up to Spade like a maniac and told him about how wonderful we were. Spade decided to test that. He said, “If they are as good as you say they are, let them battle Smith and Jobe.” Our father seemed very excited about this for he was so crazy; he thought we could beat his best fighters. As you probably well know, we lost miserably. Our ribs broken and bruised and we were so full of blood, that our skin appeared pure red.” He stopped to take a breath and perused on.
“The main idea is that he kept us there like prisoners, in a cell. Locked up tight. Once and a while our father would come to visit. Each time the crazed look in his eyes growing and growing. His eyes were bloodshot, glazed over; he was in his own world. His hair had patches missing from him ripping it out all the time, and his facial expression. Oh, the expression, it’s impossible to explain. Just so insane. So one day Spade decided we needed to be just like my dad. We knew how it was done, for the process was completed right in front of our cell. They would spray you with hallucinatory spray that you are forced to breathe in. The man who does this all the time then puts a potato sack with eye holes over his head. He says, “Obey Solitude Spade! He will rule! Do everything possible to help him! Or else you will end up like this!” Then he goes silent, the person sprayed probably sees some terrifying thing, because next they scream bloody murder. Their eyes glaze over while being strapped to a chair. When the man leaves they are still lying there, eyes popping out of their head, screaming. Screaming! In fear. Then they seem to pass out, with their eyes still opened. Glazed over, crazy, as their mouth hangs open. Once and a while they murder something like, “Must help Spade.” And then their whole body goes limp. The guards come back and they unstrap them and drag them back into their cell. Where they will wake up, terrified, and insane.” Again he stopped, his eyes open wide. Breathing heavily and sweating. I felt slightly sorry for him, but mostly grateful he decided to tell me this.
“Darren, maybe you should go back t—“ I began to say.
“NO! You must hear all of this!” He objected.
“No Darren, that is all I need for now.” I said calmly. This time he didn’t object. Too tired to speak. I helped him stumble back to his cell. Where I gathered the others and took them to a sleeping corridor. For I knew Darren would keep them under control. He trusted me now and I trusted him.
