Page 140 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

And they are probably right.

Right now though… I wish I never knew the truth.

Because it hurts so much I don't know how to breathe.”

Briseis

Chicago, Illinois

Santiago, 18 years old

George pulls the car up by Octavius’s mansion, and Florian flies outside, a phone still pressed to his ear. He has been calling him relentlessly the whole twenty-minute drive here.

Remi and I follow suit. “You can go home, George. We’ll study here.” He nods, I know he will keep his mouth shut no matter what happens.

He’s known us all since we were in diapers, after all.

“Fucking pick up!” Florian exclaims, and we race toward the main door that’s slightly ajar, and surprisingly Antonio is not rushing outside to greet us.

Uneasiness travels through me, because this signifies something is indeed wrong, and when we start going up the stairs, we hear rock music blasting from speakers, rattling the walls. Exchanging looks, we speed up our pace, and Florian barges in with us bumping into his back.

Darkness welcomes us along with the smell of alcohol saturating the air. Florian flicks on the light, and the usual squeaky-clean house comes into view while nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Well, besides the rock music that becomes louder the farther we get inside, a music that’s forbidden in this household, because Octavius’s stepfather orders everyone to listen to only classical.

“Maybe we overreacted. Maybe he’s not home yet.” Remi breaks the silence, although he doesn't sound convinced, glancing inside the living room. “Is anybody here?” No one answers though, which in normal circumstances wouldn’t have been so surprising, since this household has only Antonio, a driver, and two maids, because his parents believe in a minimalistic approach in life.

His stepfather even refuses to have security watching his property, and the iron gates guarding it have a special code that allows you to get inside.

Florian is one of the few who knows it.

However, right fucking now when the music is blasting so loud my eardrums start to hurt, their silence is strange and alarming.

Florian pushes me to the side and then darts to the second floor, his boots thumping loudly on the marble, and we trail after him as the music becomes louder and louder, coming from the direction of the master bedroom.

This time though, another sound joins it, a loud whimper followed by a cry of pain overshadowing the music.

Meirda!

The stepfather dearest clearly started the punishment, and that’s why the staff is absent; he probably sent everyone home so he can properly torture Octavius.

As if the scar on his cheek hasn't been enough to serve as a permanent reminder of his hate toward him.

“That fucking asshole!” Florian mutters, kicking the door open. We run inside, only to stop dead in our tracks when we see what’s really going on.

Mr. Reed is on the bed, thrashing while whimpering something incoherently. Or tries to at least. Octavius clamps his mouth with his hand while his other holds a knife as he starts to stab him over and over again, his clothes soaking in blood while the white bedsheets turn scarlet.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Octavius screams, raising his hand and stabbing him hard again, probably finding an artery as the blood splashes on him, and the sight of it finally snaps us from our shock.

“Octavius, no. Stop!” Florian lunges for him first, yelling, “Stop!” He tries to catch his elbow, but Octavius pushes him to the side, and Florian loses his balance, dropping on his ass by the bed and groaning.

Remi rushes next, although he wraps his arms around Octavius’s shoulders and pulls him back, trying to separate the bloody bodies, which only results in Octavius spinning around still kneeling above his stepfather. He swings the knife at Remi, nicking him deep on his arm by the looks of it, as Remi hisses, jumping to the side and joining Florian on the floor.

Octavius goes back to stabbing his stepfather over and over again, continuing to chant, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

“You’re killing him! Fucking stop, Octavius!” Florian gets up swiftly, traps Octavius’s arm between his palms, trying to drag him to the side, but it has zero effect on his friend, who’s already in the zone.

A zone I’m too familiar with.

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