"Jake's bedroom is...." Stephan paused, seemingly searching for the right word, then clicked his tongue and scoffed, "surprisingly bare."
To this, Gabriel could only nod. The room was impersonal, the walls pale gray, and the simple furniture, dark gray. There was not a speck of dust or any decoration whatsoever. If anything, it looked like a hotel room.
"It's almost creepy," Stephan sneered as he walked to the cabinet, pulling open a drawer at random. "Frankly, this isn't what I was expecting. I thought he would flaunt his wealth and display pricey things right and left. But there's absolutely nothing to see here."
Though Stephan wasn't wrong, Gabriel decided not to comment and get on with the task at hand instead. He listened with one ear to his friend's monologue, busy searching through the closet. Again, it was overly neat: all clothes were folded and nicely tidied up. He had to be careful not to displace anything, lest his brother noticed someone searched through his things. It surely wouldn't end well if he did.
A minute later, maybe even less, Stephan let out a sound of exclamation, drawing Gabriel's attention.
"I found something," he giggled, beckoning Gabriel to come closer. "There's a false bottom in the underwear drawer."
"..." Gabriel's mouth twitched. Still, he didn't comment on Stephan's choice to check out Jake's underwear drawer first thing first. As long as he found something, he would turn a blind eye to the rest.
Closing the closet, Gabriel walked to Stephan, who had already tossed aside the folded underwear, revealing the false bottom. However, when Gabriel took a look at it, all he saw was a standard drawer. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it.
A slight frown creased his brow as he peered at Stephan, his stern gaze seemingly asking for an explanation.
"What's with the face? It appears normal, but the space in the drawer isn't right: it's a bit less than the other drawers, which are about the same width. So, logically speaking, something doesn't add up."
There was a short second of silence.
"Sometimes, I forget that you're not just an idiot but also have surprisingly keen senses."
"That's rude!"
Gabriel brushed aside Stephan's fake indignation and started to fiddle with the false bottom. It took a while before he managed to find the trick to unlock it, but once he did, he unceremoniously pried it out. Its content was laid bare, and after seeing it, Gabriel could not help but cock an eyebrow.
These books looked like diaries...?
Gabriel and Stephan shared a look before tacitly picking them up and replacing everything. Then, they combed through the rest of the room and left after not finding anything else. It was better not to linger in Jake's bedroom for too long, just in case Angela or Matthew passed by and caught them. Of course, they had a few excuses prepared, but they would rather not use them. The less they appeared suspicious, the better.
Thus, they quickly returned to Gabriel's bedroom and each took a corner to read the diaries. Neither thought much about invading Jake's privacy; Stephan even felt a little eager at the idea. He knew the situation was dire, yet he could not help but feel a little excited, mischief glinting in the depths of his eyes.
It wasn't anyone's diaries, but Jake's! It promised to be entertaining if anything.
But he was wrong, oh so wrong.
The faint smile lingering on his lips didn't last long. It slowly vanished as Stephan flipped through the diaries, replaced by a clenched jaw. Different kinds of emotions flashed across his face, but none were of glee.
"This..." Stephan murmured, breaking the silence as he clutched the notebook in his hands. "Now, I understand why you were so wary of Santa." He let out a few wry chuckles. "I may or may not be overwhelmed with the strong desire to bathe him in a tub of sulfuric acid right now."
"That's oddly specific."
"If not throwing him in a tub of sulfuric acid, I'd love to dismember him too. Or better yet, bury him alive.
"Is that so."
"Fucking hell, how can you look so damn calm?! Aren't you furious too?!"
"What do you think?"
Gabriel's tone of voice was chilling, sending shivers crawling down Stephan's spine. Yep, his friend was mad, probably madder than he had ever been. However, Gabriel didn't show it on his face and looked just as usual, seemingly indifferent to it all.
Only, the more serene he appeared, the scarier it was. The moment Gabriel finally snapped, all hell would break loose, and anyone caught in the crossfire would pay a hefty price. Or so that was how Stephan felt.
Well, might as well light a candle for Santa. Or not. That guy deserved every bit of what was coming to him.
While Stephan let his imagination run wild, Gabriel focused his attention on a string of sentences. He ran his fingers on the words now engraved in his mind, feeling a pang of pain stabbing his heart. If only he had known sooner... But the past couldn't be tampered with again, that, he was sure of it.
"These dreams now haunt all of my nights. Sometimes, it's hard to say what is reality and what is a figment of my imagination. Who am I? I cannot tell anymore."
Lowering his eyes, Gabriel silently read the following sentences for the nth time, and for the nth time, he wished things had been different. Like an idiot, he had thought he could see through anyone, no matter who—well, what a joke! He had been overconfident, and now he knew just how foolish he had been: some people's hearts were mysteries he could not ever dream of fathoming.
"In the end, the only thing I can say is that I hope this life won't end the same way as the ones in my dreams.
This time, let them find happiness and let me bear their sins, for that is the least I can do."
***
He felt a cold hand on his forehead, and the pain was relieved for a short instant. It made him heave a sigh of relief, his frown decreasing slightly. His skin seemed to have been set ablaze, and the cold hand felt like rain in a desert—it could be called a blessing, even.
Unconsciously, he chased after it when it left.
"Shit, you're burning."
The voice was familiar, but unlike usual, it was filled with worry instead of anger. Hearing it stirred up an odd feeling in his stomach, though he could not tell why.
"He will be alright, right?" another voice asked, smaller and softer. It was hoarse from crying too much, shaky, and uneven. The boy to whom it belonged appeared to be on the verge of collapse, barely hanging on.
Why was it again? He couldn't remember.
"Of course he'll be! Your brother is a cockroach, he won't die for this much. So, yeah, don't worry. He'll be fine."
The words were not very pleasing to hear, yet they warmed his heart. The brat had always had a foul mouth, something that could not be changed overnight. Still, he felt glad to hear it.
Gradually, he opened his eyes as confused memories swirled about in his head. This situation, was it a dream or was it real? It was hard to say, like always.
"Jake! You're awake?"
Was he? Well, maybe he was.
"Yeah," he heard himself say. His voice was raspy, and his mouth felt dry as if he hadn't spoken in ages. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Probably a day and a half? I can't say for sure."
"I see."
"Hey, are you crazy? Don't move! You have a high fever right now, so stay still!" Misha scolded, pushing Jake to the ground when he tried to sit up. "If you need anything, just ask!"
"..." There was a second of silence before Jake opened his mouth, saying dryly, "I need to pee. Are you sure you want to help me with that?"
No, not really.
"There's a bucket over there you can use to do your business," Misha readily pointed to the said bucket. It was left in the corner farther away from them.
After turning the room upside down for a possible escape he may have missed, the teenager had found the bucket, luckily before any of them needed to use the toilet. The room didn't have many things—it was pretty much bare, save for empty shelves and the rusty bucket. Though it wasn't the best makeshift toilet, it was always better to urinate in it than on the concrete floor.
"Thank you," Jake said, struggling to sit. However, he needed help to stand up as his legs felt too weak. After Misha stabilized him, he somehow managed to wobble to the bucket.
Then, he stayed immobile for a few seconds before letting out a grunt, glancing over his shoulder at Misha. They had both momentarily forgotten that Jake's hands were tied behind his back, making it a little difficult to do his business—it was hard to unzip his pants without using his hands, after all.
"...Coming," Misha let out a wry laugh, wondering what the world was coming to. Never had he thought that he would one day pull down Jake's pants, much less help him pee.
Needless to say, it was a disconcerting experience he never wanted to go through again.
.
.
"This was awkward, so freaking awkward."
"Don't say it," Jake groaned, his cheeks flushed red due to the humiliation. Thankfully, the light was dim and no one could see his face, not clearly at least. "If we get out of here alive, not a word to anyone!"
"Sure, sure," Misha snickered. "I won't tell a soul, I promise."
"It feels like an empty promise. I wonder why?"
"Dunno."
"..."
Jake's mouth twitched slightly, but he didn't pursue the matter further. Instead, he glanced at his little brother, who had been quiet since a while back.
Tristan flinched slightly when Jake's remaining eye fell upon him. Gulping, the boy repeatedly nodded his little head to let him know he understood and would take the secret to his grave. Though young, his survival instinct worked just fine, and he wouldn't go courting death. Unlike a certain someone.
"Good, you—" Jake was interrupted mid-sentence, the door opening with a creak. He involuntarily tensed when he heard the ominous sound, peering at the masked man with gritted teeth.
Like always, he came in without warning. He was like a ghost, appearing out of the blue whenever he felt like it, scaring them to his heart's content, then vanishing without leaving a trace. God was it bad for their hearts.
The man walked toward them before standing in place a few feet away, staring down at his victims. With him so close, no one dared to utter anything, and Misha's breathing instinctively slowed, becoming so faint it was barely audible.
In this atmosphere, the masked man's smiling eyes scanned the area, looking at his hostages' faces one after another. His gaze halted on Misha's hands that lay in front of him, and not at the back as they should have been, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he said to Jake in a somewhat regretful tone:
"It seems like your father isn't totally heartless. Anyway, your family will come to pick you up soon. That is if they don't get lost along the way."
He let out a chuckle, his gaze lingering on them for a second before he turned on his heel. But even after he closed the door, his last words echoed throughout the basement, resounding like a curse. These were words Misha would never forget, and they would soon haunt many of his nights.
"If it's meant to be, let's meet again! Until then, farewell."
___________________
Edited by Clozed!
Thank you for reading! ♥
For early access (UP TO 10 CHAPTERS!!!), feel free to check out my Patreon!
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/rsvaesen
Twitter: https://twitter.com/VaesenRs
Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/rs_vaesen
Discord: https://discord.gg/VHrdt7jb76