The room was thick with a suffocating silence. The guests and constables circled around Elijah like vultures. Their terrifying weapons glinted coldly in the dim light, promising only pain and suffering. Elijah's heart hammered wildly in his chest as he sank to his knees, begging in a voice cracked by fear. He pleaded desperately, his voice trembling.
"Please… don't do this. I didn't mean anything. I just want to live."
One constable sneered, "You're just a worthless brat. Maybe this'll teach you to behave."
They closed in. Rough hands seized his arms, dragging him to the center. Someone struck him — a sharp blow to his leg — and pain shot through his body like lightning. He cried out and collapsed. Laughter followed. No one helped. No one even flinched.
"Stop! Please! Help me!" Elijah cried, but the words fell on deaf ears.
Just as all hope seemed lost and then, a crack of lightning split the sky near the police station. The blinding flash stunned everyone — the world went dark for a heartbeat, and Elijah seized the moment to break free. He dove behind a desk, heart pounding. Darkness swallowed the room; the electricity had gone out.
"Where is he? Find the boy!" barked a voice.
In the chaos, Elijah scrambled beneath a desk, clutching his side and biting down on his sleeve to muffle his sobs. He pulled at his torn clothes, trying to cover himself as best he could. Every inch of him ached. But he forced his body to move.
Then, a voice cut through the shadows — soft, gentle, but dripping with poison.
"Come out, Elijah, There's nowhere left to run." Bob said quietly, the calmness in his tone making it worse.
Elijah's eyes scanned the floor — and there it was. A knife, half-hidden under a fallen tray. His heart thundered. Memories surged — George's cruelty, the broken promises, the pain, the betrayal.
"I don't want to… but if I don't…" he whispered to himself.
He rose, trembling, and stepped into the open. Bob saw him and moved forward — but Elijah moved first.
The blade struck.
Bob gasped, stumbling back, eyes wide with disbelief. The others screamed as he collapsed. For a heartbeat, everything went still.
Then chaos returned.
The others rushed over, disbelief written on their faces.
Laura screamed, "Who did this? Who killed my husband? Someone answer me! Who killed my husband?"
Elijah stayed hidden, trembling. The flickering lightning briefly illuminated the blood on his hands.
He thought, "I never wanted this. But if I don't fight… I'll be killed."
Regret and horror flooded his heart — he had taken a life. Tears welled up, but survival left no room for mercy.
The others split up to search the building. Laura stayed beside Bob's body, sobbing softly.
Elijah crept forward, hands shaking, watching her from the shadows.
"I am.... sorry.... mam."
Suddenly, Laura laughed — a cold, bitter sound.
"Fool. Do you think I ever loved you, Bob? I only loved your money."
Elijah froze, stunned by her true nature. His breath caught. "You lied… all this time?"
His hands gripped the blade tighter.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered.
In the storm's flickering light, he moved again.
He didn't remember how many he faced.
Just shadows.
Just screams.
The night became a blur of fear, silence, and survival.
Only the police chief and two constables remained. The constables urged the chief, "Let the boy go, sir. We can't keep this up."
The chief's eyes narrowed. "No. This ends now."
In one brutal moment, he turned on his own. Elijah, hidden nearby, watched in horror as the chief struck the constables down.
"Come out," the chief commanded, his voice empty.
Elijah emerged from the darkness, his clothes torn, face streaked with tears and blood.
Without warning, the chief lunged, fists hammering down. He grabbed Elijah by the neck, squeezing tightly.
Elijah kicked, gasped, clawed — and with a final desperate effort, he drove the knife upward.
The chief collapsed, lifeless.
Elijah dropped beside him, coughing, tears streaming down his face. He stared at his hands — covered in blood, shaking uncontrollably.
"Why… why did it come to this…?" he whispered.
He sat there for what felt like forever, then slowly stood.
He pulled his shirt back on and stepped into the darkened night.
The electricity was still out, but in his pocket was the ticket — a chance to escape.
He moved toward the station.
At the station, Alaric waited calmly, eyes sharp.
"You must come. Now." His voice echoed telepathically.
Minutes passed. When he was about to leave and then Elijah appeared — changed. Traumatized, fearful, exhausted.
Before Elijah could say a word, he collapsed.
Alaric caught him gently, examining his wounds.
Placing a hand on Elijah's chest, a soft light glowed — the wounds began to close.
Alaric's voice was gentle but firm.
"Your life starts now, Elijah. Trust me."
Elijah whispered weakly, "I don't know if I can… but I'll try."