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The ticking of the clock was steady in the otherwise deafening silence. Nothing moved, nothing breathed.
Charlie stared stared down at the lifeless body below him for what seemed like an eternity.
He had come over to his brother's house for tea, as he usually did on Saturdays. But now there was nothing, only this empty house and his brother's corpse. It was postured to sit, somewhat slumped, in his brother's favourite chair.
It looked almost as though he had simply fallen asleep, but the large gash in his throat, crusty with dry blood, proved otherwise.
Charlie finally dared to move a muscle, and took a hesitant step forward. He still couldn't believe it and there were a million thoughts swarming his head.
Who would do this? He didn't have any notable enemies. Why? Revenge? Money? His brother wasn't very rich, and the rest of the house was still completely in order. Why him? Why now? Why? Had his brother been in something? Was there something he hadn't told Charlie about?
Charlie broke down. He started sobbing uncontrollably at how little there was he could do. His brother was gone, forever, and he hadn't been there to help him.
He looked at his brother again, and then he noticed something. There, under his teacup, was a piece of paper. He carefully took it out from under there and unfolded the note with shivering talons.
Find me. Good luck.
Charlie was dumbfounded, he stood there, as though he'd been struck. What was going on? Who would do this? Wh-
Clang!
Charlie snapped around. The living room was still empty, but now there was a broken teapot laying on the floor, spilling out onto the carpet nearby. Charlie whimpered with unease. Was the murderer still there? Was this a trap?
There was something absolutely wrong, he knew that much. He could feel it, that almost electric sense of utter terror in the air.
He wasn't alone.
He turned around to face his brother again, and for a moment he could've sworn there was something in the shadows. Charlie bolted to the door. He had to get out, now. Who, or whatever killed his brother, it was still there. Waiting.
But then he hesitated. This wasn't some horror monster. It had to have been a dragon, who else could've used a weapon, and written a note?
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The note!
It had said to come find the dragon, and find him Charlie would. A dragon was something he could deal with, he could overpower. Charlie was fairly strong, and the added adrenaline of his rage would do the rest.
This was the dragon who murdered his brother. Time to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Charlie sprinted back into the living room. He was ready. "Come out and face me! Whoever you are, I'm not afraid of you!"
There was silence, then he felt a faint breath on his neck. He turned around only to be faced with air again. There was nothing here. Had he imagined it? Was he going insane with grief?
He turned around again
And froze.
Standing in front of him, was his brother. His eyes were fiery and he was wielding a large knife. His throat was unharmed.
Charlie took a step back. He couldn't grasp how this was possible. What was going on? His brother's mouth twisted into a grim smile.
"I knew you'd fall for this."
Charlie couldn't process any of it. "Why? Why would you do this?" "I don't owe you an explanation. I don't owe you anything." His brother spat.
"You've been here far too long. Your time's up."
He lunged forward, aiming for Charlie's head. Charlie cowered down in fear, and felt as his brother's knife plunged deep into his back. An unbearable, searing pain shot through him and there was a horrifying squelching sound as his brother twisted the knife out of the wound and held it up once more.
Charlie screamed loudly. His whole body felt as though it was on fire and his muscles barely responded to his brain's rapid firing of possibilities.
His brother growled and shot forward again. Charlie moved backward, but it wasn't enough. The knife pierced into his forehead, and he could only scream as his brother dragged the knife across his skull, tearing deep into his flesh.
Then, the knife was removed and Charlie fell to the floor. He felt nothing but horrible agony as his body went limp and blood poured out of him. As his vision was fading, he saw his brother stand over him, looking grim but satisfied.
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There was silence all over the house. Nothing moved, nothing breathed. Mariana stared in disbelief and horror as she saw the corpses of her two sons posted on their chairs to look as though they were simply sleeping next to their tea.
Behind her, in the shadows, a figure grinned with anticipation.
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