Gifteds: And Then There Were None

Chapter 7

The gifteds filed into the dining room for breakfast. There were still ten chairs at the table; an honorary seat had been left for Henry. As Nico walked in, he felt like something was wrong. There was something, someone, missing. He looked around and tried to figure out who. As soon as they were seated, Nico realised. Alex wasn't there.

Nico cleared his throat.

"Really Nico?" commented Max. "That's the most cliché way you could possibly get our attention."

"We can talk about clichés later. Let's cut to the chase. Where's Alex?" inquired Nico.

"Who cares?" Maira retorted, although she was also curious to know his whereabouts.

"Be quiet both of you!" yelled Angela. "I don't know where he is. He probably was up playing some stupid video game late into the night and is sleeping in." She went back pouring herself a glass of juice.

At that moment, Kyle walked in. Everyone turned towards him. In the rare occasions that Kyle interrupted them during mealtimes, it was usually important and rarely good news.

"I have some unsettling informa-"

"Who died this time?" Mitchell asked sarcastically. He turned his attention back to his steaming plate of food.

"Alex." responded Kyle without hesitation. Mitchell's head whipped back around, stunned.

"What," Angela dropped her glass. The red cranberry juice stained the white tablecloth like blood. "How... how did he die?" she sputtered, choking on her words.

"He attempted to leave property. Our security took him for an intruder. It was an honest mistake." The Gifteds sat in silent shock. "It was an accident, it won't happen again. After all, nothing concerns us more than your safety." After giving a pleasant and cheerful smile, he left the room.

The Gifteds were stunned. It felt wrong to continue eating and it felt wrong not to say anything. Angela started.

"Is there going to be another funeral?" she asked, rubbing at the tablecloth, now dyed crimson.

"I'm sick of all these deaths! Seriously, I asked for some inspiration, but I don't want to do another death painting," Salwa groaned frustratedly. Tess looked around the room and cleared her throat.

"Oh, do you wanna say something too? Huh? Spit it out will you," Angela yelled slamming her fists onto the table. Her eyes were glassy and ready to cry; she wasn't taking these deaths too well.

Tess furrowed her brow together before speaking. "Actually, I was just clearing my throat but if you insist on me speaking I'll tell you this. This wasn't a mistake. We're fish in a barrel."

"Fish in a barrel? What does that mean?" Mitchell asked cocking his head.

"It means we're sitting ducks!" Tess sighed exasperated.

"Uh, why couldn't you just say that in the first place?" questioned Max.

Tess shot back a remark. "I absolutely despise clichés yet, I happen to be part of one. This is complete crap!" Shaking her head, Tess stormed out of the dining room. Once out, she looked back at the door, breathing hard. She waited for something to happen; perhaps someone would even come after her. She leaned against the wall, muttering under her breath.

Back in the dining room, no one moved a muscle. No one attempted to break the silence that had fallen on them like a giant boulder. After twenty seconds of agonizing silence, Nico finally spoke. "We're screwed right?"