The Pseudo Semicolon

CHAPTER 17 || PART: 2

"Fuck, I need a break." Devland sighed and got out of the room and he swore that there was someone inside it, laughing at him. He stumbled out into the hallway and it was just his luck that he ran into Charlie and Jason.

He wanted to run away in fear; These were murderers, serial killers. No reason could justify their actions.

"Woah there bud, you look pale." Charlie stabilised Devland, his eyebrows scrunched up in concern, "You okay?"

How did his face look, when he killed Mr. Rogers? Or was he busy comforting little Michelle as his friends let the Devil kill him? Maybe John tried to protect his sister, but instead got punched by him. Does he not feel any guilt? How can he just stand there—and act so normal?

"Fine." Devland mustered a smile.

"Where have you been these days? You've been avoiding us." Jason asked. "Did things go bad with Todd?"

Todd? Why would—oh right. "He didn't call me after the party."

"That fool." Charlie cursed, "Looks like we'll have to punch some sense into him, eh?" He wrapped an arm around Devland.

Devland's heartbeat quickened, glancing at the hand that must've been stained with an innocent's blood. Murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer—

'You think you'll be any better?' A familiar voice asked and Devland froze. The hallway lights dimmed, the students seemed to pause in their place. Then, with sickening cracks like their bones were breaking, they all turned to look at him; lips widening into an eerie smile.

It was like their skin was forced to stretch after it had been glued to a place; some patches of skin stubbornly clung above their teeth, some ripped upward. Blood seemed to ooze from their wounds, puddling on the floor.

Their eyes were the worst; they were full of fear.

Devland felt bile rise up in his throat. This isn't real, this can't be real.

"Speak of the devil." He mumbled, trying to calm himself, "Why do you haunt me?"

"Your brother." The voice answered in kind; terrible, deep and sinister. The monster was standing on the opposite end of the doorway, a dark shadow amongst the smiling faces.

Devland could feel his heart growing with anxiety. Fear, disgust and bile rose to his throat and he wasn't sure if he could speak. He tried to distract himself, opening his locker and closing his eyes. Fuck.

"What did he do?" His voice didn't tremble, giving no hint that he was scared.

"You mean, you don't know? You don't know what he did? You haven't figured it out yet? No–no, you did. But you're too scared to admit it." Devland had a gut feeling that the monster was smiling, "How fascinating."

Devland felt like he couldn't breathe again; he was back underwater, his mother's hand pushing him down. Except this time, he was drowning under the weight of his realisation. "No."

"Yes." The monster cackled.

"No—No, he wouldn't."

"He was the most pathetic—Do you know what he wanted? He wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Poor mortal, he didn't know the true gravity of his situation. He knew the consequences, and yet he agreed to them. How wonderful is that? What a wonderful brother—he did it for you, for his "family". "

"Do you always show up just to drop some important information and then fuck off?" Devland shut his eyes even more tightly, shards of glass seemed to be puncturing his heart. His head was swimming, he couldn't hear his own heartbeat.