The Tower

His fingers pushed in and felt the rush of blood where his stomach wall had been. He raised his head to look at Allander just as the second shot blew much of it from his shoulders. Chunks of flesh landed in the entranceway, skidding past the children's feet before sticking to the wall behind them. Blood sprayed the large mirror on the left side of the room.

"Well, that was certainly a helpful exercise," Allander said cheerily as he loaded two more shells into the shotgun and recocked it. "I hope no one else loses his head over this little matter."

The sixteen-year-old started to cry, his shoulders heaving. The younger brother remained silent, staring at Allander with wide eyes. He stepped back against the door, and Allander smiled as he saw his little pink fingers grasp the older boy's hand.

The boys sat back to back in two of the kitchen chairs, bound to their seats by thick duct tape coiled around their bodies just under their chests.

The thrill of power rushed through Allander's body, touching him to the bone. He almost had to shake it off like a chill. He had come to settle another score, to revisit the teachers with a bit of retribution. The children had just been an extra. He liked having them just as they were; he could perform any action he desired on them and they could do nothing about it. Very few people had ever experienced such complete control.

Allander had been considerate enough to remove the mother's body from the kitchen before he took the boys in there. He had even mopped up the blood. Fathers received their retribution publicly, but he could never show children their dead mother. She was safely out of sight, one room over in the family room.

The older boy had stopped crying, but his breath still came with sobbing urgency. He shrank back from reality, shock glazing his now vacant eyes. The little one had not made a sound.

"Well, my young friends, what are your names?" Allander asked politely. He was perched on a high stool facing the boys and he dug a kitchen knife into his seat absentmindedly, cleaving little peels of wood from the surface.

"We're not your friends, and we're not telling you our names. We're not telling you nothin'." The ten-year-old jerked his head toward his older sibling. "Don't tell him nothin', Ted."

Allander smiled. "Well, if he doesn't tell me nothing then he would, in fact, be telling me something. A double negative makes a positive. Your advice isn't concordant with your desires."

The ten-year-old looked at Allander and squinted his left eye to form what he thought of as an intimidating glare. "Well, we're not tellin' you anything then."

"So young, and so untender?" Allander laughed. "Very well. But I don't think this one has much choice given his present condition." Allander gestured to the older boy with a flick of his head. "They don't talk much, you see, when they're in shock." His eyes narrowed and he dug the knife deeper into the stool. "It's a very trying time."

He raised his eyes to the younger boy. "I will ask you one more time and then I will kill you and I will find out what your name was anyway by hunting around in your room and it will all have been an exercise in futility. So you'd best respond."

He leaned forward and stared at the boy eye to eye, their noses almost touching. "What is your name?" he purred.

"My mom said not to give out my name to people."

"Oh yes. You might find yourself in a dangerous situation," Allander said, laughing. "Besides, I don't think your mother's in a position to punish you anymore. Come now. Out with it."

The ten-year-old bit his lower lip for a minute and didn't respond. Allander flipped the knife over once and caught it by the handle. He began to step off the stool.

"Alex," the boy said quickly. He never once removed his eyes from the knife's blade.

"Well, Alexander, you and I are going to have some fun. But first, I must take the precaution of removing your brother."

Alex still kept his eyes trained on the knife. A look of horror was creeping into his eyes; Allander could see it blossoming beneath the clear green irises.

"Don't you hurt him. Don't you hurt Ted."

"Now whatever makes you think I would hurt Theodore?" Allander asked as he unwound the tape from the older boy's torso.

Ted stared blankly ahead. He stood and walked upstairs when Allander led him by the hand. As soon as Allander was out of view, Alex thrashed madly against his restraints, but could barely get the tape to stretch. He finally sank low in the chair and waited for Allander's return.

After what seemed like an eternity, Allander walked back into the kitchen. "Please pardon my absence," he said quietly.

He went over to the cupboard to get a glass, and as he lifted his arm, Alex saw the telltale splash of fresh blood. The young boy began to scream-long, drawn-out, blood-curdling shrieks of terror.