Author's Note- Beware Readers this chapter is where this story gets its T rating! Btw for those of you that caught it, the escape in chapter 8 was in fact a homage to the Shawshank Redemption. (which I also do not own)

My chest felt light and I couldn't fight the hints of a smile off of my face as I walked down the block to our apartment building.

In one hand I held my science fair project, a small robot I invented, able to walk and talk of which I called 'the Fugitoid'. In the other was a blue first place ribbon I had won for it.

I kept replaying the praises and remarks the heads of the scholarship program had given to me after they presented me with the first place award.

It was really the only time I ever felt somewhat proud of who I was and what I could do.

I approached the faded stone steps that lead up to my dark green front apartment door and balanced the robot and ribbon in one hand while trying to open the door with the other.

I frowned when the lock stayed firm, it wasn't like father to leave the door locked if he knew one of us was still out.

I put down my project and ribbon and searched under the mat until I found the dull gold spare key and used it to get in.

It was then the smell hit me.

A weird raw smell that I had never come across before. It was made all the more powerful by the staleness of the air around me.

"Father?" I called, "Guys?"

I walked down the hall until I came to the archway that separated the hallway from the living room and peered inside.

The first thing that hit me was the sound of the robot falling and smashing on the floor, as if my arm had reacted before my mind. Then my entire body fell into a deep shudder, and I had the strongest urge to vomit.

Leon, Ralph, and Michael were all laid down on the two white couches of the living room.

Each soaked within their own dark liquid crimson.

My eyes fall onto Leon's, wide and lifeless, as they stared blankly at me. It looked as though someone had attempted to do an autopsy on him while he was still living. His entire front side was sliced open, and a few organs from inside were peering out. The blood from his body had soaked through the couch and the sticky liquid was creeping its way onto the wooden floor. His mouth was opened slightly as a steady drip of blood leaked out of that as well.

Lying right next to him was Ralph. His eyes were stuck in a look of shock, matching the rest of his face as it was attached to his completely bent neck with a nice neat cut right through it. Somehow the amount blood gushing out of his neck was equal to Leon's. His mouth was also open to let out the blood which had probably suffocated him.

Michael lay on the other couch all by himself, his eyes were plastered shut, with there were several knives jutting out of his chest, the longest of which sticking out of his neck. He wasn't bleeding quite as badly as the others but was slowly catching up.

It was like my eyes were locked onto the scene so securely that if I tried to look away they would rip out of my head. The world around me halted as if it too had gone into shock. My entire body felt still and I felt that if I had moved a muscle this glass like shard of serenity I was somehow holding onto would shatter and my entire world would fall into chaos.

The breath left my lungs, my eyes were unblinking, and for a moment, I was as dead as my brothers.

"Daniel." the voice behind me tore through my shock and sent my nerves into over drive, "How was the science fair?"

I faced him, only having the strength to do so to prove to myself that he was really there, that this was really happening.

He stood in the shadows, but I could still see the blood dripping down his robe. He stepped towards me and the smell of blood and sweat hit me like a bullet. His face was disgustingly calm.

As I studied him, he looked me over as well, his expression slowly changing to anger.

"Come son," he said finally, after I refused to answer him, "Let us sit down for dinner."

He turned his back towards me and walked into the next room that served as our dining corridors.

At that moment, I felt myself split in two. The person who I was fell dead on the floor next to my brothers; the person who I became followed Father into the dining room.

He had two plates set up on the dining room table, one at the head of the table, the other right next to it. Both plates had a slab of steak splattered onto them with steak knives and forks on a napkin adjacent to it. There were also two glasses of tea.

My Father took the seat at the head of the table while I numbly took the one next to him and stared intensely at my diner.

"So how did the science fair go my son?" he asked, picking up his knife and fork to start cutting himself a small piece of meat.

I said nothing and continued to stare down at my plate, trying desperately to control my breathing and the vengeful urges within me.

My hands shook as I too gripped my knife and fork and placed them lightly on the meat. Then with a small motion of my hand I moved the knife up and down trying to cut through. When I couldn't I put the utensils down and nearly whispered, "My knife is too dull."

The silence of the room suddenly felt like a scream, and I could feel my father glaring down at me as if I were nothing more than a bug.

"I can't cut my meat." I said, a little louder this time.

He put down his own knife and fork and leaned to my ear, "Try harder." he hissed.

I jolted from his voice as if he had spit on me. I felt my hands grip the knife and fork harder.

"How was the science fair?" he asked for a third time, this time the anger was apparent in his voice.

I swallowed deeply and softly said, "Good...I won first place."

He smiled, "Excellent my son," and picked up his tea, "It is good that..."

He was cut off by my scream. Within the next instant I tackled him onto the ground and held down his body. Reality seemed to slip away and I was living in a nightmare. The man underneath me was nothing more than a monster, a monster that needed to be destroyed.

I screamed louder and more angrily than I thought humanly possible, and used all my strength to plunge the steak knife into his body.

Once

Twice

I screamed harder, tears falling uncontrollably. I stopped counting as I urged to make him loose as much blood as my brothers had.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I screamed over and over again, trying to capture how much I hated him in words.

At first he tried to fight back. He tried to catch my arms and his body struggled beneath me. But I had an advantage. My surprise attack had allowed me to get a hold on him, a hold I refused to lose.

Eventually he stopped moving all together. His face, once red with anger, turned into one of fear, and finally drained. Blood flowed freely and swiftly from his chest, like a river that had just been released from a dam.

I stopped. I was completely soaked in it, from my hands to my shirt and jeans. Blood that had been splattered all over dripped from my face.

Suddenly as I felt a regain of sanity again, I released the knife and jumped from my father's body in horror in disgust.

For minutes all I could do was stare at the first man I had ever killed. Then I jumped up and ran to the living room.

I first went to Leon. I gathered the still whole parts of his body and cradled them closely, screaming his name over and over, while tears uncontrollably burst from my eyes.

"LEON! Can you hear me? LEON!" I cried between hysterical sobs.

Refusing to accept what was right in front of me, I desperately blew air into his bloody lips and ended up chocking on the blood from his mouth.

I let out a final sob and hugged his body to my own as hard as I could, then moved onto Ralph.

I placed my hands on his cut, blocking what little blood that was left from coming out, and tried to snap his neck back into place, as if that would somehow fix everything. However my hands were shaking too badly to do so. Instead I drew his body to closer to me and dugs my face into his shoulder, chocking out his name from my now raw lungs.

My body couldn't seem to keep up with my grief, and before I knew it I was in a deep coughing act from screaming and crying too hard. Still I held Ralph as close to me as I could.

"Daniel," a voice whimpered from behind me.

At first I thought I imagined it but then it came again, "Daniel."

I was by Michael's side in an instant, carefully hugging his body next to my chest and trying to stop the blood flow, "Michael, Michael, hold on I'm going to get help." I said desperately.

His face was turning blue and I could tell he was slowly suffocating from his own blood.

The fear in his eyes was something I could never understand, but never forget as well.

"Hold on." I repeated again, and kissed him on the forehead.

I then sprinted to the phone on the other side of the room, tripping over my stunned legs several times before I made it. With shaking hands I grabbed the phone and had to try real hard to relax my hands long enough to dial the emergency number.

Tears clotted my vision, and my throat was so dry I couldn't take a full breath.

It took ages, but as soon as a voice came from the other line, I blurted out everything that happened, "Hello, hello! Please I need help my brother is hurt and..." Suddenly I was crying too hard to say anything.

I pulled back from the receiver and heaved deeply a few times, I had to calm down.

Between sobs I continued, "I came home and my brothers were dead," I paused to regain control of myself again, "I need help please..."

I couldn't go on.

The woman on the other hand demanded for my name and address but at the moment I couldn't remember.

Instead I left the phone hanging and slowly went back to the living room. I stopped and stiffened as soon as I saw Michael was no longer breathing.

"No..." I whispered.

I raced to his side and pulled his body onto my lap and cried, "No! NO! Michael!"

When I didn't get an answer I tried again to breathe life back into his lungs. But just like before, was blocked by the sea of blood that drowned them.

"MICHAEL!" I screamed, as if I could yell loud enough to wake him from the dead, "MICHEAL! PLEASE!"

I gripped his shoulder as hard as I could with one hand and sobbed in the other. I had left him. I left him to die alone.

I buried my face in his shirt as much as I could and continued to weep as hard as physically possible, only thinking one thing.

This had to be a nightmare.