The Servant Of Chaos (WIP-New Part Every Monday/Friday)

Chapter I | Part 2

The air was getting colder as Caleb strode down the street. His eyes scanned the minimalist houses that lined the desolated road, nothing compared to the lifestyle people had upstate. The boy, even though he hated doing it, often found himself roaming around rich neighborhoods, pondering about how careless and calm the life of the residents was. He couldn't remember how many times he had slid into an uneasy sleep wondering what he had done wrong to deserve a life of struggles and difficulties. A question that no one had the answer to.

A hint of tears pushed the back of his eyes, and he silently thanked reaching his doorstep before that sole tear turned into a waterfall of emotions.

Caleb turned the knob and stepped inside his house. The door creaked closed and he put the keys inside the bowl set beside the entrance.

"Mother?" He called, his voice echoing through the tight but cozy house, "I'm home!"

"Hello, dear!" She answered from somewhere upstairs in her thick Caribbean accent, "I was just cleaning up in the–." Her voice was cut short by a sudden scream that traveled through Caleb's body like a ripple of electricity.

His eyes widened and a wave of cold ran rampant through his every vein. Caleb quickly spun on his heels and sprinted to the kitchen. With surprising smoothness, he slid a long kitchen knife from its set and, still running on the balls of his feet, ran up the narrow stairs three steps at a time.

Once he was on the second floor, his eyes quickly jumped between all the places him mom could be, thoughts, options and probabilities running through his mind in ways he had never felt before. He didn't know why, but for some reason alarms and alerts rang like wild beasts howling inside his head, urging him to protect his mother from whatever had made her scream.

Following these primal instincts, his legs churned with energy, his arms and concentration peaking like the spark of dynamite before the explosion. Door after door he scanned the rooms and found nothing but the absence of his mother. His unusually sharp hearing caught quite whimpers coming from his bedroom, allowing him to reach the correct doors in what shouldn't have been humanly possible, but there was no way he could've noticed that with the adrenaline rush he felt.

The door flew open with surprising speed, slamming heavily against the wall behind it. A cold wind blew in Caleb's face, his black hair glistening almost silver in the moonlight cast through the open window. He ran into the room scanning it with excessive detail. The apartment was submerged in dark shades of blue and gray thanks to the cold night, but still, he could make out the figures of his mother cornered against a wall, frightened at the sight of a creature he couldn't recognize running at her from across the room. Unthinkingly he grabbed the knife by the blade and swung the weapon forward with every bit of strength he had, impaling the moving target to the wall.

Suddenly his vision, that had seconds before been so clear and focused, blurred out into a mess of colors, dim lights and cobalt shadows. The rush of fire that had been running rampant through his system became liquid lead inside his bones, his legs wobbled and shivered with the weight of all movement he had done. The artery on Caleb's temple throbbed and his every joint felt like machinery about to fall apart. Needless to say, he was so out of breath the only thing he could do was gasp for air as he let himself fall on his bed, a hand pressed against his rising and falling chest.

"Did you just–?" His mother began, wide-eyed.

"I certainly did... yes," he answered, still not sure what exactly he had done.

And for the first time that night, Caleb Silverhood saw his mother clearly. As he gazed at her he noticed the features that he admired every day. Esperanza Silverhood stood as strong as always in front of him, her latina shades of skin glistening in the moonlight. She had friendly eyes, brown like most in her family, that carried the weight of years of hard work under her heavy eyelids. Her hair was curly and puffy, her body curvy with ethnic traits. She wore a black dress with a white apron on top and her hair tightly curled into a formal bun. A maid's uniform