"Where the hell are you going?"
Standing half in and half out of the door was his younger half brother, Slash. Under his arm was a black and gray skateboard. His half brother was wearing a black jacket, a red, gray and black shirt and black pants, on his feet were black shoes with red laces. His dark gray hair was over his shoulders, lately he had tried to make it less spiky with a special shampoo, it really made his hair even more spiky. The area around his eyeless eyes was dark, inside his sockets were dark gray spikes that would shoot out when he was excited, shocked or angry.
"I'm going skating," his half brother hissed loudly. "what are you doing?"
"I'm also on my way out." Arson said.
"If you're planning on skating then you better change your plans." Slash said, turning around. "Remember what happened the last time?"
"The skateboard slipped from under me," Arson growled. "nothing I could have done."
He was referring to the incident that had happened four days ago, he had been trying to do a Double Helix, the skateboard had come from under his feet and had slapped up against his head, he had been up in the air when that had happened, it had hurt, what had happened next had hurt a lot! The skateboard had thrown him to the side, away from the ramp, he had landed hard on his side, his leg had gone under his body, the fall had broken several ribs and he had broken his leg severely.
"Like I'm suppose to control the way my skateboard comes from under me." Arson said quickly.
"Never heard anyone scream like you did!" Slash laughed. "You went waaaaah waaaaaah I want my daddy!"
Arson hated it when others made fun of him, he was half way to the closet that had all the outdoor play items when he turned and rushed at Slash. Slash was three years old, the youngest of his uncle's two children. Balling his hand into a fist he punched his half brother in the stomach and shoulders, his half brother backed away and raised his hands, the skateboard under his arm fell down to the floor.
"Okay okay," Slash said quickly. "I won't make fun of you."
Nodding his head, flashing his eyes and growling at the same time, he went back to the closet and took out his skateboard. It was a red, orange and black painted board with yellowish gray flames on the top and bottom. Hearing the door shut, he grabbed his helmet and ran out, following his half brother. His helmet was special made, the top had had a small opening cut into it to accommodate for the spike on his head, when he had fallen off his skateboard four days ago his spike had been broken from his head, luckily it had been re-attached after his leg had been fixed, his ribs still hurt him a lot!
"Hold up Slash!" Arson yelled.
In all it took five minutes to reach the place that the caretakers had built for them to skate, when they got their Slash quickly slid pads over his arms and legs, Arson, on the other hand, placed his skateboard down and placed his foot on it. Whenever his father was around he'd be made to wear the pads, when he wasn't around he didn't wear them. Not wanting to wait for his half brother to join him at the lip of the unfilled pool, Arson placed his other foot on the board and slid down the pools side.
"You think you're all that," Slash hissed loudly fifteen minutes later. "but you're not. You can't even stay on your skateboard!"
"At least I now how to use the toilet." Arson exclaimed.
"I know how to use the toilet." Slash replied.
"Then why did your momma have to change your bedsheets this morning." Arson laughed.
"So I had an accident," Slash said, swallowing hard. "hey you have them too!"
"Not as much as you do." Arson shouted. "I can't remember the last time my bedsheets had to be changed."
"Arson," Slash said slyly.
"What?" Arson growled.
"They were changed three days ago."
He had fallen off his skateboard three times and had busted his chin open on the second, he knew he was going to get it when he got back inside the house. Brushing his hand over his chin, he saw his green blood drip from his fingertips to the ground. Slash had fallen off his skateboard two times and was walking with a limp, he had landed funny the second time. When Slash had taken his helmet off he had noticed that he had had helmet hair and had joked about it.
"Have fun explaining to your dad that you fell and busted your chin wide open." Slash laughed.
"Hope you get plenty of attention for your poor aching ankle." Arson growled back.
Once he was in the door of the house he knew he was in trouble, standing by the fridge was his uncle, Six Shooter. His uncle had returned home a few days ago with his son, and his older half brother, Four Way Shot. They still hadn't gotten anything from him about the three week long camping trip that they had gone on, from the looks of it he had a feeling that the trip hadn't been good. Four Way Shot had gone to his room and had stayed there and had not said a word when he had gotten home. When he had gotten home he had just jumped from his horse and had ran inside, he hadn't even bothered untacking his horse, his father had done it in silence. Swallowing hard, he tried walking past him unnoticed.
"Tryin' to sneak past?" his uncle said.
"No, not really." Arson replied quickly.
"Mus' be a-hidin' somethin'." his uncle said, turning around. "Whut is it?"
"Nothin'!" Arson said, picking up the pace.
"Arson, ye stop right thar!"
When his uncle told him to do something, he normally would do it. This time he decided not to. Once he heard the elevated, slightly agitated voice of his uncle he kicked up his heels and ran out of the kitchen. When he reached the living room he thought he was alone. He was wrong, He heard the clicks of his uncles spurs behind him, without turning around he tore up the stairs, nearly tripped over a few. He was barely to the top when his uncle wrapped two of his six arms around him. His uncle picked him up effortlessly and turned him around, when he was face to face with him he saw a lot more that aggravation in his uncle's eyes, he saw hidden anger and disgust.
"An' whut a-happened to yer chin?" his uncle asked.
"I fell," Arson said, swallowing hard. "I was skateboarding and I fell."
"Busted yer chin up real good," his uncle said. "I bes' git it cleaned a-fore it a-gits infected."
"No, I'm fine." Arson said loudly. "I can clean it myself."
His uncle didn't listen, he carried him up to the bathroom beside his bedroom and plopped him down on the blue covering that was on the lid of the toilet. His uncle and he got a long very well, there were at times when they didn't get a long, when it came to disciplining. His uncle was wearing a white button up shirt, he had four extra arms on the shirt sewn in to accommodate for his extra arms, he had six and all of them acted equal, he was very good with all of them, he was also wearing blue jeans, a black belt held them up, hanging from the belt were four black holsters, each other them held one Colt .45 pistol, he was a very good shot with them, he'd always hit his target, over his white shirt was a brown leather vest, two more holsters hung from it, they housed two more Colt .45's. On his head was a black cowboy hat, he wore black cowboy hats on his feet, there was a pair of silver spurs behind them. His uncle had brownish gray hair, his eyes were the same color, his lips curled up in an evil smile, the evilest smile he had ever seen.
The antiseptic hurt, when his uncle pressed it against his chin he pulled back and yelled. When the bandage was placed on his chin he was glad the ordeal was over, he loved his uncle but when he got in the mood he was in now he was unpredictable. Although his uncle had been on the gentle side, he had used a little firmness to keep him from sliding off the toilet, when his uncle opened the door he nearly flattened him to the wall. He ran down the hall to his room and closed the door, making sure his door was locked, he sat on his bed and gently dabbed his fingers against the bandage on his chin, he wished he could yank it off. Walking to the bathroom, it was connected to his room, he felt anger swell in him. He wondered what had his uncle so angered, even when his uncle had ben tending to his wound he had seen the hidden anger and disgust in his eyes, signing loudly, he pulled the cabinet door open and reached in.