The Custodes

Chapter 26 - Wounds That Time Can't Heal

Disclaimer: This chapter contains scenes of domestic violence and graphical acts of homicide that may unsettle certain readers. You have been warned.

Kayla
It was roughly six o'clock. Or near enough then, Kayla assumed. Time had a funny way of escaping her sometimes; at least she thought it was funny, given her apparent 'control' over it. Control was used loosely in this sense - she'd never felt more enslaved in her life regardless of the power she held. There she was, sitting on the couch in her living room, almost able to feel her life whittling away. Most of it was her doing - scratch that, all of it was her doing - but she tried not to think about it in order to keep her morale and willpower at an acceptable level. She was close to giving up though, that much she could tell. She was tired, in so many ways, and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and rest forever. But the world didn't allow her any sort of repose. Blankly, she stared forward at the dark screen of the tv in front of her, catching the surprisingly clear image of herself in its reflection. It wasn't easy to look at. She looked skinny - she had always been skinny, but now it was in a far more noticeable, malnourished kind of way - and the way her features sunk into her face repulsed even her. Her eyes bore into her reflection's, which returned no more than a cold, lifeless gaze back. Yet still, she never pitied herself. How could she, she'd already acknowledged the fact that everything was of her own doing, but it had now become a matter of whether or not the goal she was striving for outweighed the toll she was taking both mentally and physically. The noise of her mother messing around in the kitchen brought her thoughts back to reality. Kayla never had the energy to turn around on the couch, or at least couldn't spare it to be treated to a simple view of the wall which held the kitchen behind it. The apartment they lived in was particularly small, like all others in the complex, and didn't even accommodate for the three of them that lived there. Kayla slept on the couch, the one she was sitting on at that point in time, granted her father wasn't up watching sports or anything else on the tv, in which case she either waited for him to go to bed or took the floor instead. That was back when she did sleep. Now there were alternatives she'd been forced to use to keep herself going. To her left there were two doors, the bathroom and the only bedroom - where her parents slept of course - and behind her was the kitchen, which had an open entrance to your right as soon as you entered the door. It wasn't particularly horrendous to live there, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't wish for a new home every time she lay her head against the armrest of that couch. Kayla Lennings wished for a lot of things. Every one of them had yet to come true. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out for the sake of it, finding the time to be 5:48 and seeing a text from Kelsie. It was the usual, asking if she was okay, if there was anything she could do for her. A while ago Kelsie's concern would've made her smile, but she was long past gaining even a sliver of happiness from such trivial things. Texts came through almost every day, from all members of the group. Noah and Kelsie were the most frequent, being her two closest friends, and Synthia and Axel sent them every other day. Least of all was Neo, but she'd expected as much after she threatened to kill him when he'd shown up at her door. After so many re-tries and so many rotations she'd learned that that threat was the best way to get him off her case for good. Well, ignoring the still occasional texts he would send. She missed all of them. Kayla would've given anything to be able to spend time with them again, to banter and chat with them like they always had. Things felt more simple when she was with them, even after Zuro entered all of their lives. But she hadn't seen any of them in...eights months? God, what a long time that used to feel like. She knew that in the current time it had only been three, but she'd relived those three months over so many times that it hardly felt like it'd been as long as it was. A part of her wanted to give up her quest and run straight to them. That part of her had been there since the start, but as the days went on and her mental health grew worse and worse it had started to become a lot more prominent. She pocketed her phone again, rubbing her eyes with her fists as they suddenly grew heavy. Maybe it was time for a reset. She pondered it for a moment, but forced herself to sit upright and decided against it. Her body was aching but she could last a little longer. Sleeping was too dangerous. They always struck when she was asleep; like they were watching her at all times; like they knew. She'd developed a method that allowed her to set her body back a couple of hours and replenish her energy and focus, to the same extent sleeping would. The issue was that she knew what it was doing to her, and tried desperately to find a balance between keeping herself healthy and not wasting away too much of her life. It was difficult, but she was certain she could manage it. All she had to do was keep going. That was it. Suddenly the door opened however, and a broad and tubby figure walked in, causing Kayla's spine to shiver and every muscle in her body tense up instinctively. Relaxation time was over, now she had to be on her toes. "Where the fucks my dinner?" The gruff voice demanded, slamming the door shut behind him in an unnecessary display of threatening strength. Just from the first sentence out of his mouth Kayla could tell he had been drinking, which bode ill for everyone in his vicinity. Kayla stood up from the couch, turning around to look at the man who loomed like a towering nightmare in the short hall between the front door and the living room. His grim features sat like wet dough on his sweaty face, displaying the image of sheer vulgarity and loathing of any and all things around him. The white tank top plastered to his chest was stained with sweat, muck, and booze, and the brown jacket he wore did little to hide the obvious pot belly that hung past his waist, despite the well-built and powerful muscles put on display by his arms. The little hair he still had left on his head was slick with grease, clutching like mould to his scalp, which seemed to serve as the final cherry on top to complete his repugnant typical 'scumbag' appearance. For a second his detest-laden eyes locked onto Kayla, before his face scrunched up into a putrid sneer and he turned away from her, instead facing her mother who now stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Kayla's mother was practically the spitting image of her; just as cold and dreary as the girl herself, albeit with the addition of numerous more years under her belt. She wore her hair down, though it sat wispy and uneven, and her lifeless aura seemed to almost drain any brightness you might find in her blonde locks. At the moment she donned a simple, unclean dress, with a green and yellow floral pattern on it, as well as a white apron tied to her front. "You're home earlier than I expected." She said, her voice shallow and quick "You weren't-" Suddenly Kayla's father lashed out with his right arm, gripping her mother by the throat and glaring into her features. Kayla could do nothing but watch as her mother's eyes filled with fear one second, then tears the next. Her father wasn't squeezing, at least not too hard, but seemed to be grabbing her merely to keep her in place. He must've been drinking quite a lot if he was this angry off the bat - usually it would happen later in the day. "Bitch." The man snarled cruelly, setting his jaw as he looked into her eyes "I asked where the fuck my fucking dinner was." "I just finished with it." Kayla's mother gasped out, her voice shaky with either strain or terror Kayla didn't know "It'll be about five min-" Kayla knew it was coming before her mother did, apparently. It was all the girl could do to squeeze her eyes shut for the second duration it took her father to crack his fist straight into her mother's face. She screamed at the impact, but then suddenly went limp in his grasp. That happened fairly often - Kayla had deduced that it was some sort of coping mechanism her mother used to deal with the shock and pain of being hit. It was clear she was still conscious, however, as she let out another cry when she was tossed roughly to the kitchen floor. Kayla's father walked in after her, and that was when Kayla heard the sound of a drawer being yanked open, then slammed shut. Oh. So it was one of those times. She knew it was her time to intervene, moving as fast as she could towards the kitchen to spot her father lingering over her mother, armed with a kitchen knife. She quickly grabbed his arm, attempting futilely to pull it back away from her mother to somewhat delay what she knew he was about to do. "Dad no!" She shouted, hoping her words may snap him back into his much less murderous drunkard state, but all she received was the back of his fist straight to her head. The force was enough to knock her against the wall, then make her crumple to the floor as she held her head and tried to steady her dizzying vision. "I'm not your FUCKING father, skank." The man spat down at her, his knuckles white around the handle of the knife. Technically he was right. Kayla's real father left a long time ago, when she was almost too young to remember. Despite Kayla's love for her mother, she was a toxic person to be married to, yet when the time came she refused to give up Kayla, and won practically all custody over her during the divorce. Everything went downhill from there, but a naïve Kayla believed that things would turn out alright since she had her mother with her. Maybe that was part of the reason why she had spent her entire life trying to keep her mother alive. What else was she going to use time-powers for? Her mother was crying now, clutching her face as she curled up on the rancid floor of the kitchen. Kayla's father reached down and grabbed her by the hair, eliciting another scream as he turned her towards Kayla "Tell her. Tell her how much you fuckin' hate her. Useless fuckin' bitch leeching off me all my life." Kayla didn't want to have to deal with this. Well, of course she had to deal with it, but she was considering going back in time early just so she didn't have to endure any further torture. But no, sometimes when she and her mother complied with her father's wishes he settled down. She couldn't risk unnecessary resets, so she'd just have to sit and let things play out. "You-...you're the worst thing...that's ever happened to me." Her mother said breathily, her tears pausing for the time being as she looked right at Kayla, but the girl didn't look back "Things...things were fine...before you came along." Her father seemed to be getting a decent enough kick out of watching his wife degrade her daughter, but it wasn't managing to cease his rage. Kayla glanced up, meeting her mother's gaze and staring into it, almost like she was trying to prove that she wasn't hurt by the words. "I despise you." Her mother said croakily, and looking deep into her eyes, Kayla could tell that she meant it. Maybe somewhere in there her mother still held love for her, but years of living in hell tended to subdue any affectionate or positive emotions in a way nothing else could. Kayla didn't show any change of emotion in her face - she'd been through every single possible scenario and knew all her mother and father had to do or say - but she couldn't stop the faint aching in her heart. It was like the knife that had been embedded in it for such a long time was pushed a single millimetre further in. "Good. Stay out of my fucking way, cow." Her father said scathingly to her, though in seeing his words bounce harmlessly off of her he turned his attention back to Kayla's mother. "Now to deal with you." He threw her back down to the ground, slamming his boot into her gut which caused her to let out a screech of agony "Do you have any idea how fuckin' hard I work? Every day I slave away while you sit on your fuckin' ass doin' nothing, and I'm sick of it. All I wanted was my dinner, and you can't even do that. I'm about to do the world a favour, and fuckin' RID YOU FROM IT!" The room itself seemed to shake as he bellowed in anger, and Kayla could only watch as he raised his knife, causing her mother to start screaming her head off -wailing and yelling like a cornered banshee. And then suddenly she was cut off. Kayla's father, her mother's husband, brought the knife straight down on the woman, plunging it deep in her chest. Kayla stared at the floor, pulling her legs up against her chest as she remained perfectly still, unable to let any emotions spill through due to how many times she'd watched the scene before her play out. She didn't focus on her father's movements, but she heard the wet 'shluck' sound every time he drove the knife into her mother's corpse, then pulled it out again. He went on, and on, and on, in a manic fashion, shouted out with anger every time he did it before he finally seemed satisfied and stopped his strikes. Out of the corner of her eye Kayla saw him rise, like a beast from hell, his hands, arms, and torso damp with sticky red blood. He turned on her, a predator ready to strike once more now that he was done with his meal, but there was nothing he could do to stop Kayla's eyes from flashing green as time itself warped and bent around them at her command. Half a second later Kayla was back on the couch, staring into her reflection's dull gaze as the heaviness of her eyes hit her again. She took out her phone, just to ensure her jump back had been correct, and in seeing the screen display 5:19 as the time she dragged herself up and moved towards the kitchen, planning to start preparing her father's dinner.