Zombien©

×45Ｏ

It was dark.

Cold and dusty?

A light shined in his eyes. He was back in his old bedroom. Blake's heart started to beat faster than it ever did.

Why am I back here! No!

He ducked down, like he always did. In the distance he could hear Fredrickson and Patrick going at each other in how to kill someone.

Little Blake's life consisted of him running and hiding. If Patrick or Fredrickson found him, he would end up abused and hurt.

So, he stayed low and quiet. It didn't ever last long.

Whenever someone else was in the home to see Patrick, he would hide everything. They would cover up any scar or bruise with makeup.

Nothing to see here, right?

Then suddenly Blake was in a new pod. Patrick was more busy than in the other rooms of the pod. Fredrickson still had his fun with him.

Patrick Smith was now the Duke of the Weston Bunker.

Blake remembered the one night where Fredrickson and Patrick were arguing in Patrick's office. Blake tried to sneak past the office door, but Patrick caught the movement and went after Blake when he tried to run.

“Where do you think you're going, you runt!” Patrick growled as he screamed at Blake. Blake kept crying as he tried to escape Patrick's tight grip by biting Patrick's wrist.

He got free, only for Patrick to grab Blake by his ankle, making the boy fall to the floor with a hard thud.

“You'll pay, you little bitch!” Patrick dragged Blake behind him.

“No! Please! I'm sorry!” Blake kept begging. Blake was yanked into the office where Fredrickson and Patrick had their spat.

Patrick went to his desk, grabbing his handkerchief to stop the bleeding on his wrist.

“Ya know, a human's bite is more deadly. We carry a lot of germs in our mouths.”

“Hmp.”

Blake turned, trying to scoot away. Fredrickson saw Blake trying to escape. Jumping over him, Fredrickson slammed the door shut.

Blake watched in horror as Fredrickson smirked down at him. He clambered up to his feet only to be held down by Patrick. He never knew what they planned on what to do with him.
The abuse went as far as sexual harassment to kicking the daylights out him to breaking his spirit.

Fredrickson eyed the boy. “So what did you hear, brat?” Fredrickson said.

“N-nothing. I-I swear! I just wanted to go to t-the kitchen.” Blake stuttered.

“You were hungry? Thirsty?”

“T-thirsty.” Blake said as he tried to make himself seem smaller. “I'm s-s-sorry.” He cried, his nose starting to clog up.

Fredrickson glanced up at Patrick, who didn't look convinced. Fredrickson went ahead and punched Blake in his stomach.

Blake grunted out from the pain. His breath getting heavier and heavier.
“Why are you crying! You were misbehaving!” Patrick said, throwing Blake into his desk.

Blake weakly tried to push himself up. Patrick came, standing next to him and pushed him down the floor. Blake's one elbow burned from the scrape, his breath knocked out of him.