Johnie
Panicked from the flying knife, I can't help but cry out when Dad tosses me behind him, my back making contact with the solid kitchen island and knocking the wind from my lungs.
Gasping and coughing, my fear for not only myself, but my whole family at this point, forces me to my feet again. Barely missing the edge of the counter, I jump to my feet to attempt to help my father in any way that I can, but instead of fighting like I expect, Dad is simply staring at the other man who had entered through our back door.
"Ezra..." the tall, New Asian looking man smirks, his piercing golden eyes slowly shifting over to me, sending a shiver down my spine.
The man radiates strength, his slim but muscular body dressed in thick leather with a belt that holds several slender knives.
"You haven't improved much, Yuenno," my father addresses him in a very empty tone as he slowly backs up towards me, putting his body in between the man and I.
I have the urge to reach out to him, but I also don't want to give the other man the impression that I can't handle myself, the fact that these men were invading my home letting me summon up the anger to mask the pain.
"Why are you doing this?!" I growl out at him, stepping around my father just to flinch when his outstretched arm firmly connects with my chest to block my path.
Dad doesn't utter a word, but he does glare sideways at me, the sharpness of authority that stabs back at me freezing my body on contact.
"Why am I not surprised?" the man called Yuenno chuckles darkly, my eyes darting over to watch him withdraw another knife from his belt. "Your son seems strong, Ezra. The Director will be incredibly pleased with the work you've done."
"He has no business in my own," Dad replies, his arm lowering to grip my wrist and force me behind him where I stumble sideways, my mind scrambling for ways to be useful.
I can't fight. I can't really contribute in any physical way possible. I can't necessarily talk my way out of a situation I have no background knowledge about, so in other words I am absolutely fucking screwed.
"Ezra, Ezra, Ezra... Don't be so serious, boo!"
Despite the playfulness that falsely comes from Yuenno's tone, both him and Dad glare menacingly towards one another, both clearly tense and on guard. I catch Dad's eye every so often, my mind screaming at me to do something.
Desperate, I frantically peer around the kitchen, taking in the unusual amount of kitchen knives, but even if I could get my hands on one, Yuenno would bury one in my face before I could even think of using it.
The way he flicks his gaze towards me now already makes me nervous.
"Now, now, Ezzie, this doesn't have to be violent! We asked, you declined, now we do it anyway! Real simple if you ask me...
The New Asian man continues to ramble on, slowly creeping closer to Dad with a knife in each hand. Dad remains silent, his face unreadable to how he's processing everything.
Does he know what this man is talking about? Has he been expecting this to happen? If he did, a warning would've been fucking nice.
Trying not to direct my anger towards the only one keeping me alive right now, my eyes finally zone in on my only hope and pump myself up for the next move.
"Not gonna say anything, eh?" Yuenno scoffs, clearly becoming a bit ruffled as he slowly works his way closer and closer to my dad, who keeps his eyes locked on him.
Feeling the tension in the room build to dangerous levels, I bite the inside of my cheek and snatch the large, solid frying pan from where it is airdrying beside the sink and chuck it towards the intruder, praying that my decision didn't make things so much worse.
To my horror, Yuenno elegantly sidesteps out of the way and the pan collides with the wall behind him, chipping the wall before banging to the ground, having accomplished nothing at all.
I feel myself die from the humiliation before anything else, wondering why I thought that would work in the first place. When I tear my eyes away from the pan, I watch as Dad takes advantage of the situation, Yuenno having been caught off guard and distracted by the object now on the ground.
Dad doesn't hesitate to lunge for one of the man's arms and twist it behind his back. A sickening crunch follows along with Yuenno crying out in pain.
"You never learn, do you?" Dad taunts with clear anger before swiftly yanking a knife from the man's own belt and pressing it against his throat.
"Hahaha, it's no use!" Yuenno laughs through groans of pain, each struggling movement making Dad twist his arm at an even more unnatural angle. "You let yourselves believe his words! You dumb animals let emotions dictate your actions, and now look where it's gotten you!"
Just then, we hear noise from upstairs, something that resembles metal, or at least an impact of such, sending my mind wild with concern and worry. My siblings and mother are upstairs, what if some men made it up there, too?!
When I hear the noise I look upwards at the ceiling, but when silences follows, I look back at my father who doesn't seem bothered by it.
Not seeing any shared concern on his face gets on my nerves, my jaw clenching at his lack of a reaction.
"You're not taking them."
With Yuenno still attempting to break free of Dad's hold, my world immediately slows as I watch in disbelief as Dad releases the slightly shorter man just long enough to yank his head back by his hair and drag the blade across his throat, a cascade of thick, scarlet liquid quickly running free from the sliced flesh.
A watery, gurgled cry leaves Yuenno's parted lips that quickly begin to leak blood as well, his body twitching and his hands frantically reaching for his neck, all of us knowing there's nothing he can do to save himself.
Falling to his knees and collapsing onto his side, his wet sounds getting louder, I fight the instinct to rush over to him, forgetting that this man had just tried to kill me.
Warm tears gather in the corners of my eyes, displaced guilt, denial, and confusion mix all together, making me lean on the counter for support.
I don't know what I was expecting to happen, but to see a man--a man I know the name of slowly dying in front of me?
It makes me want to scream.
I know Dad also killed the other two men left forgotten on our kitchen floor, just a few feet away from Yuenno who has now gone silent and still, but it's different this time.
I didn't see Dad directly kill the other two, and I guess my brain just decided not to think about it. Besides, it was their fault, they were trying to kill me too!
The image of Dad dragging that knife across Yuenno's neck like it was as soft as butter sends ice coursing through my veins, my brain beginning to throb.
Dad seemed to know this man and he killed him so effortlessly, so emotionlessly. Yuenno showed himself as the enemy, but...did he really have to die?
I don't realize that I am leaning my head down towards the counter with my hand pressed against my chest until Dad's hand grips my shoulder, my mind snapping back, but my body refusing to move.
"John--"
"You killed him," I say softly, slowly lifting my head to meet his gaze. I'm not accusing him, I'm not afraid of him, I'm just stating the fact that my father, the man that has never laid a single finger on us, has just slaughtered a living, breathing person.
"Yes, I did," he answers without hesitation, his face blank, but his bright gaze staring straight into mine like they were trying to solve a complicated math problem. He leaves his hand firmly on my shoulder as we remain silent. I don't really have anything else to say to him, too affected by what my kitchen has become, but I take this opportunity to just take in the presence of my father.
I used to cry myself to sleep wondering why Dad never stayed, never came when I called for him, and now he's here, standing right in front of me.
I want to be happy, I want to just crush him in my arms, but I can't. I just don't understand how he could do something like this so effortlessly, making me realize just how much I don't know about him.
Can I even trust him?
I don't break eye contact the entire time my mind is fighting with itself, but through all the questions and confusion I hold inside, I can't bring myself to see Dad any differently and I don't know why.
I love my dad, I really, really do, and I know he won't hurt me. I don't know why I feel like this, but I do, and I can't make myself feel anything else.
Finally able to blink, process, and fucking move, I slowly take a step forward and do exactly what I wanted to do the first time I laid eyes on him today. I wrap my arms tightly around his torso, hiding my face in his chest, shameful of the few tears that escape down my cheeks.
Dad just stands there, even tensing up against me, but he eventually places a strong hand in the middle of my back, that small gesture being more than enough.
I don't know what's happening. I don't know how me or my family is involved, but I can't blame my dad. I just can't, especially not without an obvious reason.
Wondering how long Dad is going to let me stay like this, a loud thump from above us draws my face upwards. Dad imitates me and slowly pushes me away at arms length.
The noise doesn't immediately freak me out, especially since nothing else really follows. No screaming, no sound of a struggle, nothing.
"I need you to go get the car ready," Dad says out of nowhere, my eyes instantly going back to stare at his blank face, his own gaze intense and demanding.
"Sh-Shouldn't we call the police?!" I exclaim, absolutely bewildered. "They're gonna think we murdered these people! I-I mean we did, but not--"
"John!"
Dad's sudden command and firm shake shuts me up, leaving me speechless and frantically conflicted.
"We cannot trust anyone, John. The police will not help us. No one will but ourselves. Now, go!"
Dad pushes me backwards just hard enough to coax me towards the garage before rushing away, hopefully to gather everyone else upstairs.
Trying not to hyperventilate, I sprint out of the kitchen, across my unnecessarily gigantic living room, and over to the garage where I almost pull the key hook off along with the damn keys and throw the door to the garage open without thinking.
I expect to see an army of people waiting to fill me with bullets or knives when I flip the lights on to illuminate our three car garage turned part game room, but nothing except our car and usual toys sit there.
My heart is hammering away once again as I run over to the car, not caring that my feet are bare, the hard slapping against the concrete keeping me attached to sanity at this point.
I never got around to getting my driver's license, but I know how to at least unlock and start it up, almost completely forgetting to press the garage door opener that hangs on the visor.
Once the car is up and running, I throw myself over into the passenger seat, conflicted on whether or not I should keep the doors locked or not.
I alternate my eyes towards the door leading into the house and the landscape of the early morning light reflecting off the cul-de-sac outside. My chest is tight from just thinking about who could be waiting for us out there.
I try not to worry too much and focus on keeping myself calm, waiting for my family to join me so we could get the hell outta here.
Mom would want me to be strong for Alfie and Anny, so I can't let her see me this rattled.