The Man Behind the Slaughter

Chapter One.

November 9th, 1983.

5 days until the party.

Evan rushed towards his door, tears streaming down his face as he desperately pounded on it, seeking an escape. On the other side, his elder brother, Michael, stood amused, firmly holding the door shut.

Evan's arms tried to push the door open, but against Michael's muscular body and the thick wood door, his efforts were futile.

"You can starve in there until Father gets home, you crybaby!" Michael taunted, his thick British accent nearly masking his words.

"P-please, let me out!" Evan pleaded, continuing to pound on the door, his sobs intensifying as exhaustion set in.

Michael snorted dismissively before dashing away, leaving Evan stranded and helpless.

Eventually, Evan crumpled to his side, sobbing, awaiting his father's arrival, uncertain if he would come and release him.

* * *

Evan awoke, still on the floor, his cheeks stained with dried tears.

'Father is coming home late again tonight...'

He stood up and walked over to his bed, glancing at the red numbers on the clock.

It read: 12 AM.

He sighed before hopping onto his bed, reaching for his stuffed animal. He hid himself under the covers, disregarding his stomach's sounds pleading for sustenance.

Several moments later, the unmistakable sound of his door being unlocked resonated through the room, prompting Evan to sit up abruptly.

"Father...?" He gazed at the figure entering.

"Hello, Evan." The towering man lingered in the doorway briefly before stepping inside and illuminating the room with the flick of a switch; his golden nametag—which read 'William'—shined bright.

He sighed. "I see Michael took advantage of me coming home late...Again." Evan nodded, then rose to his feet and embraced the man's legs. "I'm sorry; me and Henry have been busy with the restaurant." William lifted the boy and carefully settled him onto the bed.

"Especially with Henry's daughter being off school for the summer. She's been runnin' around, screwin' things up." He groaned, seating himself beside Evan and rubbing his forehead.

"Can't Charlie stay here, then? Her and Elizabeth are best friends. . ." Evan whispered, hugging his father's arm.

"Stay here with Michael being the only 'adult'? Charlie wouldn't want to come over ever again." He said sarcastically.

Evan looked down and whimpered. Tightening his grip.

"Hey, just go back to bed, alright? I'll talk to Michael." William got up and tucked Evan back in.

"Do you think he will listen this time?" The young man looked up, staring at his dad with hope.

The two sat in dreadful silence for a moment. "We'll see." William finally said, putting on a fake smile before kissing Evan's forehead.

"Goodnight."

"G-Goodnight, Father. . ."

He gave the boy a gentle pat before standing up, turning off the lights then closing the door quietly. Once he was out, he sighed and walked towards Michael's elegant marble door.