[discontinued] Golden Days (Sleepy Bois Inc+ fic)

Lies [Chapter Fourteen]

{Philza's POV}

"Shhhiit!" Philza breathed out as soon as he heard the slam of a car door outside from up in his room. The room was dimly lit from the sun shining through the windows, causing a nice feel and warmth of a freshly brewed coffee. Golden rays bounced around the surfaces, turning the white bedsheets yellow and the light brown walls glowing. 

He tripped over his soft carpet as he rushed to the cool window, peering down and seeing an unfamiliar small and silver car there, and a man and women stepping out of it with fancy-looking clothes. They wore black suits and they didn't look too happy, even from his spot at the window. He felt a rush of fear race from his stomach to his head, causing a feeling of nausea to overcome him. Green filled him and he wanted to curl up at the wall and just wait for it all to be over. He bit his tongue and a metallic taste oozed over his tastebuds. Philza tried to ignored it as he spun around and raced away from the window. He slammed into his door as he quickly bounded over, but the pain was dulled by his racing emotions. Everything was a blur from how quickly he moved and sprinted, and he didn't take a moment to slow down as he flew down the stairs. He felt his own feet try to betray him with missteps along the way, but his fear of being too slow to warn the others allowed him to stay upright and quick. 

"They're here!" Philza hissed in panic as he rounded the corner into the living room, only to see Oreos scattered on the table and the latest episode of Manhunt on. Techno was sitting by the edge, looking as anxious as can be with a tapping foot and constant glances around him, and Wilbur seemed more relaxed and fixated on whatever stunt the main character was doing in the show. However, the moment those words escaped his mouth, Techno was jumping up and grabbing Wilbur's hand. Wilbur seemed confused and an Oreo flew from his grasp, but the alerted grip and tug of Techno seemed to transfer into Wilbur, as he began to understand the situation at hand.

Philza watched them, feeling as if his feet were rooted to the ground, his mind torn in two. He wanted to go with them, to protect them and make sure they were safety hidden away. To make sure everything would be okay... but the hard knock at the front door told him otherwise. He just watched helplessly as they opened the sliding glass backdoor and they hopped through it into the portal of outside. For a split second, he swore Wilbur looked back with a heartbreaking look of hope and yet fear. Questioning Philza if this was the right way about this, but trusting him all the same.

Everything will be okay, He silently promised himself and his racing heartbeat before snapping out of his fear and shock. Philza spun around with his heart pounding in his throat now, his pulse in his arms shaking with each beat. His arms were trembling and his throat felt dry and rough. The image of some diseased creature catching Techno and Wilbur before Philza managed to go to save them flashed inside of his mind's eye, and he silently cursed himself for thinking that. He hated thinking like that. They were strong! They went over this plan many times! Nothing could go wrong as long as they stick to the plan.

As he walked towards the door, more impatient knocking was starting to rise up. On his way to the front door, Philza passed the opening to the kitchen. He glanced back into it, spotting the block of knives on the counter, neatly tucked away. He curled his fingers into a fist, imagining himself holding one of the sharp knifes when he opened the door. He would allow the social workers to walk inside and he lock the door behind them. That's when he would hold the knife up and strike them both down until the warmth in their hands bled out and stained his carpet red... The souls leaving the life in their eyes... Then he could run back and bring Wilbur and Techno back and they would all be safe and-

 Philza! He quickly shouted at his own imagination, That's the worst idea you could come up with! He forced his legs forward, away from the potential option of murder. As the kitchen grew farther away from him, the front door grew closer until he was standing right outside of it. His hands felt cold and he could hear his own blood rushing, the pulse on the side of his head seeming to pound into his skull, begging him to do something or to run. Slowly, he lifted a hand up turned the shiny lock to unlock the door, his hands still shaking. He inhaled and put on a fake smile of greetings, getting himself ready. It was now or never.