Wrong Place, Wrong Time ✔️

Chapter 4: A Memory

You are definitely my happy ending.

Nick:

Six-year-old me stacked up the small wooden blocks, my eyebrows furrowed in concentration- Caleb was studying colourful stones next to me. His face was alit with a childish glow- one that I envied.

"Master Nick?" Prue- our maid- smiled nervously at me. "Your dad wants to see you in his study. He has another test for you."

My heart sank and I exchanged alarmed looks with Caleb. We both knew what the 'tests' entailed.

I swallowed down my nerves and followed Prue through the myriad of hallways in our mansion. My small feet beat down on the well-worn carpet and I stared briefly at the unsmiling oil paintings mounted on white walls. I caught the eye of a serious-faced intimidating man dressed in a suit and shuddered, looking away from his soulless black orbs.

I was snapped out of my reverie when Prue knocked tentatively on the heavy oak door.

"Enter!" A deep voice boomed.

"Good luck Master Nick!" Prue whispered, gently pushing me to my doom.

I swallowed down the fear gnawing my stomach and pushed the door open.

"Father." I said coldly, standing tall with my hands clasped behind my back. I'd never been in my father's study before, so I took this opportunity to examine it in detail.

The walls were bare- not a single photo hung on their smooth surface. A window on the right one allowed faint dappled light to shine through, hitting the red carpet and illuminating the room with a warm rosy glow. Dominating the centre, a brown desk was covered in papers organised in neat stacks with a laptop resting on top of it. A miscellany of  dusty books with un-cracked spines lined the bookshelf to my left, next to a drinks cabinet.

"Take a seat, Nicholas." Father gestured to the wooden chair in front.

I obeyed and stared at his blue eyes- a carbon copy of my own- with a hint of trepidation. Father is a dangerous man- irascible with no conscience.

"Nicholas, the time has come for you to complete your final test." His voice was clipped. He gestured to the gun resting on the table- one I didn't notice before.

I picked it up, the familiar metal instantly cooled my skin. I loaded and readied it, my small finger curled around the trigger and stared expectantly at Father.

"Curtis? You can bring the prisoner in now." He called. I looked behind me in time to see a man dressed in a suit- seriously, what is the family's obsession with suits?!- dragging a figure behind him.

I inhaled sharply at the woebegone man at my feet. His head was shaved and every inch of his body was covered in blood. I stared at him in horror and Bloodied Man sneered, revealing gaps between his equally bloodied teeth.

"Shoot him, Nicholas." Father demanded.

My spaghetti arms trembled as I raised the gun. Bloodied Man gazed at me, uncontrollable fear shaking his body. I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the trigger.

With a sickening thud, the bullet found its mark. I didn't dare look as Curtis dragged the dead man away. It was my first kill.

"Well done, Nicholas." Father patted my shoulder, a hint of pride in his tone. "I'm proud of you."

I didn't reply.

With a gasp, I jolted upright, my heart thudding so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.