You Can’t Run, You Can’t Hide
Run. Run far, run fast, just fucking run run run.
A grab on his shoulder, a kick in his stomach as he brings Jame to his knees. A shadowy figure who smiles a smile full of bleeding thorns. “You miss me?”
He could only watch as the figure from his darkest nightmares loomed over him, grabbing his collar as he knelt in front of him like some sort of slave. The one who’d taken his brother away from him, who’d beaten his mother senseless after midnight, who’d crushed and shattered Jame and everything he held dear for as long as he could remember. “My SON.”
“I am not your son! We may share the same blood but I will never be a son of yours!”
A slap across the face, nails digging into skin, shredding and bleeding as three distinct marks ran across his cheek. Fueled by anger and hatred yet as terrified as a fly trapped in a spider’s web, Jame buckled under his father’s gaze and lowered his head.
“That’s better.” A wicked grin, a hand pulling his chin up to face his again, those dark, soulless eyes that made his very soul shudder. “I heard you found a thing to play with. The Attar boy is such a dear to keep me informed where my own son won’t. Imagine me having to find out through him.”
“I-I don’t-” Another kick in his stomach stopped him and he doubled over, clutching at his stomach and gasping in pain.
“I didn’t say you could speak, boy.” He let go of him, circling around him as he watched him fall. “You should be more grateful to your father. I ensured you survived your little A C C I D E NT. I let you live off on your own, converse with whomever you like outside of my direct supervision. You’re not chained. And to think, you’re not kissing the ground I walk on.”
He leaned down to Jame’s eye level, brushing a stray hair out of his eye in almost a tender way before yanking him up by his hair. Jame screamed in pain, eyes watering as his father simply watched with distant fascination. “And now you have someone living with you, loving you like some sick little dog,” he spat. ”And you allow it?” He pushed him back to the ground, shaking his head in pure distaste. “I’m so.. disappointed in you.”
Don’t speak. Don’t speak just.. just grin and bare it and then get Hugo out of here. Move. Run away. Just survive this and everything will be okay.
“F-Father, I meant no disrespect to you. He’s merely that: a toy. Nothing more, nothing less.”
His father’s eyes pierced through him, calculating, killing him on the inside. He stood him up again like a rag doll, shadows cackling in the background like some sort of sick symphony. “You better hope for his sake that your words are true.” He eyed his son cooly, tilting his head to the side. “Wouldn’t want such precious, magical blood be to SPILT now do we?”
Jame’s entire world froze. His eyes glared into his father’s, horrified, pleading, but not daring to show anything but disinterest. If Hugo came to harm because of him... if he.. if he died because of him, just like Allie did...
He stumbled away from his father, shaking, tripping and falling but his father caught him in his arms. He smiled the wickedest of smiles, caressing his face as if he truly did love him. Softly, but with the demanding voice of a king he whispered, “Fair warning, my dear Jame.
-- I’m E V E R Y W H E R E.”
Possessively, almost sadistically, he placed a kiss on Jame’s forehead, wiping the still pouring blood from his face.
And then in a flash he was gone, shadows evaporating around them, leaving Jame at the foot of his own door crumpled in a broken, bleeding ball.
