Heyo Internet,

Some of you may have or may not have got it right. I guess it is sad but I'm glad you guys like this. The truth is near. Aha, enjoy! School starts tomorrow, I'm sad. :c

Disclaimer: Man of Action owns the characters but the story is completely mine. 8'D

Devlin flinched at every sound that was let off in the little room he was at. He squeezed himself into a tight ball, praying mentally that he would be safe. Images flashed before him, this was the same house he had been abused at as a kid. It happened once, it might happen again. Even though the fears still lurk quietly in him, the scariest thing right now was the voice of a caring father he had never had. He kept talking out there, talking as if someone was there. He sounded so caring, so loving; a side that Devlin had never seen and refuse to accept. And his mother's name, why did he kept saying it? Was his mother really there? In a spirit maybe.

Devlin frowned at the floor, if his Dad could see her spirit, why couldn't he? His frown deepen when he decided to look up, he decided he should stop whining like a big baby and look around the room. It was his after all. At least, that's what he told him. Devlin had believe nothing here was his anymore. The room wasn't much, nothing a spoil little boy would ever want; it hasn't been entered for years. The old dusty bed at the corner suddenly felt so small for his liking and that old bookshelf his mother use to pull of bedtime stories for him to read. Everything was old and rotting. Nothing in the room seemed up to date. He hated this place.

He hated this room, he finally admitted. Just as much as he hated his father, he hated his room and the rest of this house. There was just a big scar somewhere within him that reminded him of his mother when he was in this place. How he watched her slowly die away when she was smiling at him. How she was so calm and happy on the outside when she was actually rotting within. His heart ache a little, he didn't even noticed how broken she was till she couldn't be fixed. He was useless.

He felt useless and it felt like it was a big burden that he carried. He felt like he had murdered his mother, that he could have helped. But, didn't.

Maybe his father was right; maybe he was the main cause of his mother's death.

Or maybe not.

The red-headed was downstairs; she coughed once, twice then straightened up. She looked around nervously in case anyone had heard her; she cleared her throat softly and exited the kitchen. Her hands were shaking vigorously when she placed the on the handrail leading upstairs, she steadied herself slowly and went up. She was glad that Kevin was nowhere near her and headed to her room, passing Devlin's.

Devlin's door was wide open and he suddenly felt a cold feeling. Without thinking twice, he went over to shut the door.

Gwen watched as her son shut the door. She was staring at the boy from where she was standing at- right in front of the doorframe. He seemed down and it really hurt her, the bad aura coming out of him could be sensed a mile away. The ginger kept quiet when the door was fully shut and let out a cough again, she forgot what she was going to get.

Her medicine.

Gwen reached for the drawer next to her side of the bed, pulling it open weakly. She grabbed a maroon felt bag and pried it open; she tossed everything out of the bag. Almost a dozen of silver tins fell out; not the normal type of tin cans, these were very small and portable. Quietly, she took a pill out of every one of them and gathered them to a side.

There were red ones, orange ones, blue ones, pink. They all came in different shapes and sizes, round ones, pentagon ones, square, tablet shaped, etcetera. She had a handful of those pills. She glared down at it and chuck them all at one go into her mouth and did something most humans wouldn't have done. She chewed on them as if eating chips and swallowed them once she was done. She was used to that bitterness, so use to it that she didn't taste anything. Kevin entered the room at that very moment and she jumped, grabbing two tins at a time and forcing it down the bag.

"What's that?" He questioned, walking towards his wife. She looked up at him, still shoving the tins down that felt bag. She mumbled something incoherent and finished putting the last tin into that now, stuffed bag. "I didn't quiet catch you there."

"They're just my medicine." She replied at felt a little flummoxed to why he had stuck his arm out at her. "Do you need something?"

"Can I look at them?"

"They're just medicine, Kevin. They're not much." She said as she was about to put the bag where she had took it. Kevin grabbed her by the arm before she could and rudely snatched the bag away. "Hey!" She exclaimed, reaching for it, "that's mine!"

He ignored her and opened it. His eyes widen instantly when he saw what was contained in one of those tins (those tins also had a circular opening at the covers which you could look in by), blue pentagon shaped tablets which had some strange logo on it. It looked kind of familiar to the raven-headed man. He cocked his head sideways and scrutinised the round tin box quietly.

"Gwen, where did you get this?" He asked suddenly though his voice was quiet and soft. Gwen didn't reply him.

He turned and stared at her quietly, "This isn't medicine, Gwen."

"I know," she croaked, putting her face into her hands, "But if I don't take them. I'll lose something important. They said I'd regret it."

Kevin took a seat next to his red-headed, "Lose what, Gwen? You won't lose anything; not when I'm here. And who's they?" He grabbed her wrist and pried her hands away from her face so he could have a good view of her, "who are they? I'll do something about them so you don't have to worr-"

"No." Breathed his red-headed, shaking her head vigorously, "Don't. Kevin, don't do anything."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "They're making you take poison and you don't want me to do anything about it?" He asked, a little disbelieved, "Don't you know you're killing yourself?"

She didn't say anything and silence went about them for a minute till she finally spoke, "I have to." She wheezed weakly, "I have to..."

"It's for him, isn't it?" Kevin asked and Gwen shot up. She shook her head so hard, the dark-headed man thought she might have snapped her neck if she kept doing that. "No, no." Gwen whispered, "It's not because of Devlin."

Kevin didn't buy it, it was obvious. He stood up. Gwen immediately grabbed his hand. "No," she croaked, "Not his fault, don't." He easily yanked himself out of her grip. "Please," she pleaded, reaching for him as he headed towards the door, "Kevin, don't."

He completely ignored her and exited the room. "Kevin, no." Was the last thing he heard before shutting the door and breaking the doorknob. After crushing that piece of metal easily, he headed to his son's room. He let himself in solemnly.

No one was in there.

Devlin knew something was wrong when he heard his father talking seriously to himself in his room. He didn't know what he was talking about but it sounded bad. Smart, Devlin sneaked downstairs. The badge was still in his pocket and he kept wondering when his uncle was going to call. Ever since he got here, that badge was fried, so was the rest of the signal. Everything wasn't working except for the TV. The radio didn't even work; anything that came through was just static.

Devlin paced around the living room till he heard what seemed to be a metal crushing. He knew what was going to happen next; he had to find a hiding spot. Devlin panicked, he was about to go for the front door but it was probably locked. He had to think quick.

He heard footsteps leading towards the stairs. Panicking, he walked past by the bottom flight of stairs, having a hand on the wall where the stair leaded to support him. His heart was beating fast and he almost had a heart attack when something bend a little under his touch. A secret door?

Footsteps grew from above the stairs, without thinking, Devlin peeled open the camouflaged door and stepped it. Shutting it immediately. It was pitch black and he couldn't see a thing. He reached around hoping to find a switch. There was a string; he felt it when he was flailing it around. Praying quietly, he pulled. A light went on.

Kevin narrowed his eyes; scanning for that little boy he called a son. He had leaded himself down to the living room. He couldn't have gotten far; Kevin had locked down all the doors and windows leading out of this house. Nothing could get in nor get out without his permission. He was a 100% sure Devlin was still in this house, just smart enough to hide. He was going to find him, he was certain he would find him soon.

Devlin almost gasped at what he saw but he heard heavy footsteps coming from just a few metres away from him. He held his breath and ignored what he had witness. He stood there quietly, gluing his eyes shut. He heard heavy footsteps went right past him and slowly fading away. He let out his breath slowly and turned back to his surroundings.

It was the creepiest thing he ever saw. A dark mahogany wooden table which looked like it was about to break any second stood there with a matching wooden chair next to it. Nothing else was in the room. He thought it hadn't been used for awhile but he was wrong. There was no dust on the table or chair. He also caught sight of a creepy book sitting right in the middle of the table, glaring at him. Judging and staring at his every move.

Devlin moved cautiously, something was luring him towards the book. He pulled the chair out without making a sound and sat down. He then noticed the book under the dim light. It was red, leather and a word printed in big yellow elegant font on it. It read 'DIARY'.

At first, Devlin hesitated to touch it but something just told him to do it. He grabbed it and flipped through the pages. He noticed that the book was blank and quiet a large number of pages have been ripped out of it. He placed the book on the table, a little flummoxed, why was something telling him to look inside when there was nothing in it?

He almost jumped out of his skin when a drop of red stained the page he had opened. Then another drop, and another. After about five drops it stopped, Devlin didn't know where it came from and he was too chicken to look above him. He was trembling.

He peered closer and noticed that it wasn't just any red water. It was blood. Devlin was just about to get up but then red spots on the blood disappeared. The book glowed magenta for five seconds and dimmed again. Devlin didn't know what to do; he dared not make a noise though. What choice did he have? First there was going out and getting hurt by his father and then there was this option, getting freaked out by a book.

He decided to go with the second option. He was about to stand up when something caught his attention. Letters started appearing, in red. It was a messy cursive handwriting, it looked desperate yet hesitant, "You're trespassing the diary of Gwendolyn Tennyson. Please write your name before execution."

Execution? What did it meant? Panicking, Devlin scanned the room from a pencil, a pen, anything he could use to write on! He was about to get up again but then an old pink pen came rolling on the table. Devlin got a little freaked out. But without hesitation, he grabbed it and wrote his name out clumsily in his messy handwriting, "Devlin" then he stopped awhile before carrying on, "Levin" he shuddered at the name. He was also pretty shocked that the pen's ink was also a dark purplish, magenta colour.

"Welcome Devlin." The writing continued below his answer. "Gwendolyn was expecting you."

Devlin gulped, what was he suppose to write? He waited awhile wondering if some more words were going to appear but nothing came and he let out a frown; he didn't know if this was going to work but he decided to try anyway. He wrote, "Where's my mother?"

"She's no longer here." It wrote back.

"Who are you?"

"I'm part of your mother."

Part of his mother? What did it mean? Devlin wrote back demanding answers, the book replied, "I'm made of mana, your mother's mana. I sense you're in trouble. Gwendolyn might be dead but somehow, you still are her son. A huge part of me wants to help you. I sense danger."

"Is my mum really dead?"

"Yes, Devvy."

"How do know she likes calling me that?"

"Like I said, I'm part of her. I know everything."

Devlin frowned; he was about to breakdown right now. But he needed answers; he couldn't remember how his mother died. "How did Mum died?"

"She had been taking poison."

Devlin blinked a few times, absorbing the new information. He then scribbled back an obvious question, "why?"

"She wanted to save someone."

Devlin swallowed something that was caught in his throat, "was it me?"

"No."

Little suspense hanging. Do you hate me? Btw, I used my phone to typed this out. Might be some mistakes, I'll look through it later.

Guess what's going to happen next.

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This is written on the 18th August 2013. Might be updated soon, see you then! Peace, yo!