Prologue

Chuck Thorndyke gasps for air, but there is none to be breathed. Is this it? Is this the end? No. Chuck can't even fathom to entertain these thoughts. Clutching his screaming lungs, he determinedly scans the burning room around him for some sign of an escape route. His eyes are immediately drawn to a bright light peeking through a hole in the wall on the opposite side of the room. Despite not knowing if this light means life or death, he begins to drag his limp body through the scalding piles of soot toward the unknown. His unwavering eyes are solely fixated on his goal, not even the near-collapsing ceiling being able to interrupt his intense focus. As long as that light persists, so shall he.

"Give it up, Grandpa. Can't you see that it's over? You've lost."

Chuck's focus is unfazed by his tiny perpetrator's remark, and he continues to slowly drag himself toward the light. There is no other option for him but survival; he will get out of this room alive, even if by nothing but pure adrenaline alone. Swallowing a mouthful of dry saliva, ash, and masked fear, Chuck nimbly maneuvers his burning body around flaming spears of wood that are consistently springing out of the ground. Though this trial is tasking on his aged body, he knows that he will be okay as long as the ceiling remains intact.

That's when he hears the crack.

His offender howls with delight at the noise, slapping their knee as if this was some kind of comedy club. "Oh man! You just can't write drama this good!"

Chuck's veiled fear quickly reveals itself, and he stops dead in his tracks. He flips his body so that he is lying on his back, making it slightly easier for him to breathe. "Why….are you….doing….this….to me," he cries out between uncontrollable wheezing fits.

"Don't you get it, Grandpa? It's always about you, never me. Daddy never wants to talk to me when he visits. The second he walks in the door, it's 'where's your grandfather?' Do you know how that makes me feel? To not even be loved by my own daddy?"

"Come on now….you…know that's….not true. He…loves….you very much. Just…like I do..."

"Shut up! Damn, you're so pathetic! Not only do you steal away Daddy's love, but I can't do shit without you breathing down my back or telling me 'no' right off the bat! It's time to realize that I'm not a kid anymore. Hell, it's been time."

"I'm…so…sorry. I didn't…know that….you felt that…way. I never…meant to hurt you. Please….forgive me."

The tiny pyromaniac laughs hysterically at Chuck's plea. "Damn! Go ahead and play the martyr why don't you. 'Oh, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.' 'Forgive me' my ass! You've done nothing but ruin my life since the day Mommy and Daddy sent you to live with me. I've spent the last twelve years of my life in absolute misery because of you!"

A single tear falls from Chuck's now sorrowful eyes. "If only…I'd have known…"

The young felon ignores Chuck's comment, twirling a scorched woodchip through his fingers. "You know, this whole situation is awfully ironic. I've spent my entire life helplessly groveling on the floor, answering to your every beck and call. Hell, I've felt like my heart was burning with hatred for you. It feels indescribably right to see you suffer the way that I do."

"I just need…a little more…time to figure this all out. Please…"

"Time? You're asking for more time? You've had twelve fucking years to figure out what you've been doing to me." The wrongdoer smirks as the two hear another crack come from the ceiling. Chuck twitches in agony as he tries to flip his body back over and continue his journey to safety. "Stop trying. Can't you see that it's over? Time's up, Grandpa."

Chuck's fearful eyes glance behind him to find that the light, his only and last hope, has gone out. His perpetrator laughs at Chuck's misery. "I see your night light ran out of batteries. Isn't that just too bad."

"I bought you that night light…when you were a newborn. I had them put…both of our names on it to remind you that I'm always with you…even in the dark times. Don't you remember that…Chris?"

Chris doesn't reply, waiting for the disintegrating ceiling to do his grandfather in. Flaming planks of wood begin to fly across the room, destroying precious artifacts, inventions, and family photographs. Chuck continues to try to flip himself over so he can escape, but cannot muster enough strength. Lying helplessly on his back, he begins to realize that this is the end. He cries out in agony as a spear pins itself to his pant leg, cutting open his exposed flesh. He crosses his arms over his heart, closes his eyes, and smiles through the searing pain. "Chris?" He asks.

"What now."

"I still love you."

Chuck takes his final breath as one last spear cuts through his neck. Time is up.

Author's Notes: First and foremost, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Your CC and feedback is crucial to my growth as an author, and it means a lot to me. I realize that this prologue is incredibly cheesy, especially the ending (I'm looking at you, night light anecdote.) I'm going to work hard towards fixing this problem in future chapters. I'm also unpleased with the short length of the prologue, but that's an easily fixable problem. Finally, I apologize for any grammar mistakes that you may find. I spend a lot of time practicing grammar rules, but I am a human being at the end of the day, and I make mistakes. You can expect the first chapter (or, technically, the second) on either Thursday or Friday of this upcoming week. Again, thank you so much for your support. I hope you enjoy this chapter and those to come!