Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             Aunt, Father, and Mother surround my bed, their words mingle together, trapping me in an endless spray of a dark, nauseating fog. Their voices keep scratching on my brain cells. Their images break the bricks of sanity I’ve been patching together since the asylum. The digging sound plagues my mind, travels my chest, demolishes my heart.

                             No, I’m not insane!

                             “Shut up!” I glare at Mother. “Your fake attempt at being a mother is the most despicable emotion anyone offered me. The least you can do is leave me alone!” I turn to Father. “I owe you nothing, Father. Nothing! You were never a father to me, you were a tyrant who enjoyed having an heir.” My attention jerk to Aunt. “And you! You didn’t die for me, you died for your damaged self. You couldn’t live amongst humans anymore and used me as an excuse to leave.” I heave. “You’re all dead, stay as such!”

                             Aunt grins, her thin lips twitch when she pierces Mae. “Let’s take her with us, shall we? Add her voice to our little circle.”

                             “I’ll kill you all over again before you lay a finger on her!” My hands wrap around Aunt’s neck. When I attempt to squeeze, my heart clenches as if several knots inside it were twisted at the same time. Aunt laughs, maniacally, her voice fills the room. Father smirks, the devil-like motion so disturbing even Mother’s sobs seem quieter than his reaction.

                             I blink, and they disappear. Instead of Aunt’s face, Mae’s peaceful features come into focus, my hands wrapped around her neck. I jump back as if electrolysed.

                             Fucking hell.

                             Time escaped me. Again. Not only was I seconds away from squeezing Mae’s throat, but I’m also seeing the dead. People who were supposed to be voices transformed into images. Did all that happen in my head? Or were they actually here?

                             The pounding in my heart and ears gets louder and heavier until realisation sets in. I always thought I was fine but truth be told I’m... I’m fucking insane.

                             My phone vibrates. Tristan. Finally a living family member.

                             “We’ve got Lowell in the dungeons,” he says, “Dylan is out of the country so it’s only you and me. Want to come in?”

                             I glance at Mae. I need blood and if I don’t want it to be hers, then I have to act fast. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

                             Hopefully, this will get the demons off my back for a while.



                             . . . . .



                             I stand in front of Lowell’s dismembered corpse. Blood drips from his wounds, quenching the room’s floor, adding to the ceremony of red on white.

                             Father and Aunt stand by my side, glancing at my work with expressions of disinterest. Mother cries in the corner, her voice has always been the dimmest.

                             Aunt yawns. “This isn’t the blood we want, Aaron.”

                             “I always despised the hypocrite.” Father steps on Lowell’s corpse. “But he’s not the point. Go back to your room and give us what we really want.”

                             I hit the side of my head with my palm, the knife slips from my hold and falls on the tiled floor with a clank. I sink to my knees, unable to take the assault of hearing and seeing them all at the same time.