Bloodlines

Desire

* Warning* - This chapter contains death, violence and sex scenes not suitable for younger readers.

*Flashback*

Mother's high pitched shrieking struck my heart like a knife. The sound, unfortunately, wasn't one I was unfamiliar with, but unbeknownst to me, that day would end vastly different from the others.

A fleeting glance over to my brother playing happily with his fire truck confirms he's blissfully oblivious to his surroundings. He had once asked me why mummy and daddy shout at each other so often but hadn't bought it up again, having accepted the fake explanation I gave back then.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!"

Thundering footsteps hammer on the stairs like a hailstorm, the noise reverberating around the walls of the house. My breath catches in my throat as I dive to grab Rio's hand. He releases a squeal when I yank him roughly to his feet, and the toy truck clatters on the wooden floor as it escapes his hold.

"My truck!" he wails attempting to reach for it, but I swiftly pull him the other way.

"We have to hide!" I whisper-shout in urgency.

Without waiting for a response from him I start running, dragging him behind me. We slip unseen into the bedroom next door, where I had hidden so many times previously. The wardrobe at the back of the room was my sanctuary when dad got into one of his many fits of rage. I never understood why it was always me on the receiving end, but I dealt with it. I'd rather it be me than mother.

Shuffling around in the depths of the cupboard I force my brother as far back as possible, shielding him from potential harm with my own body.

"Carlos-"

I shove my hand over his mouth the very second that the door bursts open and my mother and father come tumbling through. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I watch them through the slits in the wood. My mother is trembling from head to toe in pure fear, shrinking away from my father who has a tight grasp on the neck of a glass wine bottle, holding it high above his head.

"Where is he? Where the fuck is he!" he bellows at the top of his lungs.

Mum stumbles to the floor flinging her arms up as a shield. Tears stream down her cheeks whilst she begs in desperation.

"Please love! Stop this! You have to stop using our son as a punchbag!" she cries, "Necesitas ayuda! Por favor."

"How many times do I have to tell you, woman!" he screeches, "I don't need help!"

The silence that follows the crack is sickening.

Mother drops like a dead weight to the floor, sanguine liquid splattering in every direction, coating the pale walls and mixing with the blood pooling around her body. My heart sinks to the depths of my chest. The realisation hitting me like a tonne of bricks.

Father continues to yell a barrage of curses at her to get up. I don't think he even understands what he's done.

My brother's tears soak the hand covering his mouth, and without warning his sharp little teeth sink deep into my fleshy palm. I tear my hand away in shock and in that second he releases a gut-wrenching scream only an infant could hope to achieve.

Father's wild eyes meet mine directly, staring deep into my soul. One huge step places him in front of the wardrobe. He jerks the doors open, almost wrenching them off their hinges.

"This is your fault, Carlos! Mira lo que me has hecho hacer!"

His eyes gleam with the lunacy of a madman as he points in the direction of the dead body. I can't bear to look at her again so I hold his gaze, even though I'm fearing his next move. Downstairs I hear a pounding on the front door, someone is trying hard to gain entry.