The truth in our songs

Chapter 58

Blake-Achlys Huxley

As I entered the halls of the large mansion I once lived in as a kid, a shudder went down and through every part of my body. I hadn't been in this place for years and I hadn't planned to ever go back but it looked like there was no choice. I  had no choice. I went straight forward to the wide opened black woodened doors that led to the massive living room which resembled more of a throneroom than a home. The long floor that stretched itself out in front of me was covered in black marple tiles and the walls were painted in a posh dark grey. The double staircase on each side od the hallway, cocooned me in like a cage and I tried to not look at them.

There hung no pictures, no cozy furniture, no dressers. It was all empty. Only the garish lamp of the old looking torches in the walls gave some light. The chandelier above my head with its black diamonds, felt like spindly claws watching me from above, able to crash down on em any moment. I shook my head, shook the old uncomfortable feeling off that reminded me of the memories this place kept, the nightmares it made me endure.

Nobody shielded my father's and Benjamin's house. They felt too safe to even think about protection and since they'd lost everything a few years ago when I brought them down, they didn't bother anyways. It had been easy to get through the gates and leave my car directly in front of the entrance door. It was easy to rip those doors open and stroll in like a lost dog who came back crawling to his father after he'd failed and it was easy to put that mask back on, I'd been wearing whenever it got to Draven Duke. Because I would not give my father the pleasure to see me break. And I would not give that pleaseure to my brother as well. He could be splittering me apart and rip my skin off of my bones but he would not shatter me. He should dare to try to harm Maia and I would tore him apart, and send him to his own personal hell.

So when my feet slowly and full of pride walked through the opened doors of the main room, I already saw my father sitting on the end of the long table, looking at his rich food that just got served from a skinny lady with hollow cheekbones, who looked rather terrified and eaten-up that alive. When she saw me, her eyes looked at me in terror and I saw how her legs started to tremble. I did not want to know what was done to her behind closed doors. My father didn't take notice of me and stared at his food before he slowly picked up the knife and fork, not sending the woman away, letting her stand beside him like a sculpture. I walked toward the other end of the table, from across him and slammed my hand flatly onto the table that the plates and glasses shuddered underneath the contact. The woman flinched at the sound that echoed through the whole empty room and my father ever so unbotheredly looked up at me.

,, What is he THINKING- ,, I snarled at my father before he even got to speak. I might be in his house but I didn't give a fuck. He could go to hell and take my brother right with him.

,, Welcome back, son ,, his dark old voice rustled back as he folded his hands over his napkin in front of his silver plate.

,, Shut your fucking face! ,, I hissed and he grunted in a chuckle ,, What does he want. What do you want from me. Not only did he shoot me but he also took someone against their will- someone who- ,,

,, -You love? ,, my father looked pitiful at me before he tilted his head back and let a loud laugh escape his lips. ,, My deepest apology son- ,, he shook his head with laughter before he looked at me again and waved the woman off who huried away as if she was running for her life ,, I have nothing to do with you brother's plans. And there's nothing I want from you. You've given me nothing but rotten years of almost poverty and hatred. And well look at you, you're still alive. And he's still a terrible shooter and you both are still a misfortune and a disgrace. Whoever he took might be dead by now or it's one of his stupid maddened droven thoughts again. Who knows. It's non of my concern, not my business and if you'd come in next time, knock. ,, he unfolded his napkin and went back to eating.