CHAPTER TWO

KILLIAN.

Age Twelve.

Ghost face.

That was what I've been calling her because that was what she was. A ghost face.

One, I couldn't wait to see what laid underneath the plastic skin they've covered her with. She was the reminder of everything bad.

Someone that wasn't supposed to be in existence.

I wish she'd died in that accident, not my mother.

I watched as my father pampered her since she returned from the health confinement.

It has been two weeks since she escaped the darkness and was brought home. Since then, he had always been around her, making sure she was alright and wasn't in any kind of pain or discomfort.

He was trying to rectify his past mistakes, through her.

Good for him, I've no conscience to deal with, neither do I owe no one any compassion.

My feet carried me into the kitchen, where I heard the voices coming from.

Her contagious laughter filled the atmosphere. She was laughing at something Melinda, the cook had said to her.

I walked silently past them, went straight to the refrigerator, and I pulled the door open.

"You're back, Master Killian. Welcome." Melinda said to me, acknowledging my presence, but she said nothing.

Her laughter died immediately she noticed my presence, and from where I was, the intoxicating smell of her fear clouded my nostrils.

She was always on the edge whenever I was close and that was how I want her to be.

I liked that my presence precipitated such a reaction from her.

Levi said I move around like a dark shadow, swallowing people in my darkness and making them uncomfortable in it.

I liked it that way, especially when she was the one in that darkness.

"Thank you, Melinda," I said to the older lady, picking a bag of potato chips from the top shelf of the fridge.

"Would you want me to prepare any snacks for you, Master Killian?" Melinda asked me, followed by the scraping sound of the stool against the tiled floor. I picked a can of soda and closed the fridge door,

"I'm fine with these," I assured her as I turned like a robot, my attention fixating on Ghost-face. Her head was glued to the table as she tugged her lower lip as if her life depended on it.

A sinister smirk cut my lips, as I imagined tying her against my bedpost and acting out my fetish obsession on her young body.

I discarded the thoughts immediately, knowing she wasn't an easy prey.

I didn't want her to die, at least, not yet. Plus, Father had spent so much to keep her alive, it was quite too early to send her back into the darkness.

I walked past her terrified form, leaving the kitchen before my impulse got the better of me against her.

Just as I headed towards the stairs, to go lock myself in my solitude, I heard footsteps approaching me from behind and I paused.

Ghost-face.

I needed not see her, to know she was the one. Her scent was something I've gotten used to, ever since she returned from the hospital.

It was mild but intoxicating and I didn't miss a beat of the chaotic effect it caused on my body.

Ever since the accident, chaos has become more of a companion, than a foe. It has become something I witnessed every day, all because of her.

I didn't turn to her, rather, I stayed still, waiting for her to get closer.

"Killian." I heard her small voice call my name,

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked me and this time, I turned to her.

She was wearing a pink dress that has too much stuff at the bottom, making it appear twice her size. Today, her long golden hair was packed in a ponytail, and a butterfly hairband was tied around her head.

The white sandals she was wearing, has a pink butterfly print at the top, matching the one on the belt tied around her waist.

I allowed my eyes to feast on her body, while she squirmed nervously.

This was the first time she was walking up to me for a conversation since after she returned home and I didn't know how I should talk to her.

"Can I come and play with you, when your friends come over today?" She asked me and my brows knitted.

Why should I allow her to join us?

"Why?"

"I don't have anyone to play with me." She inveighed sullenly,

"I'm always bored."

I didn't want her near me or any of my friends. Dylan could be trusted, but Levi cannot, especially after he told me to my face that she seemed more beautiful after the surgery.

I was tempted to punch him across the face and shun him to keep his eyes away from her, but there were a lot of people present that day, so I allowed it slide.

But that didn't mean I'd forgotten.

"No."

"But, papa said I could play with you when I'm bored."

"I don't want you to play with me, or any of my friends." I forewarned her and she began to sniffle, like a two-year-old whose chocolate was confiscated.

"But why?" She cried,

"I'm your sister, why can't I play with you?"

I hate being questioned, especially when I'm in no mood to talk.

"Because I said so!" My nose flared in anger, as I imagined Levi playing with her, as he did with the girls from school.

Never was I letting her into our circle.

Her sobs got louder, but I didn't care, as long as she was untainted for me.

It was my right to taint her first, before anyone would.

I couldn't let anyone, especially not Levi, beat me to her.

"You're mean and I wish you were never my brother." She blurted amidst her tears, but I said nothing to her.

I'm not your brother, Ghost-face. I'm your nightmare.

She brushed past me and ran upstairs.

To her room, I bet.

She would probably stay there until Father returned home, then, she would complain to him I was being mean to her.

He would console her and promise to buy her more dolls or whatever she asked for, then he would come to me and reprimand me for not being nice to my sister.

I hissed and followed after her, but instead of going to console her, I went into my bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Like I'd expected, Father came back from work and the first person he asked Georgie about, was Heaven.

"Where's she?"

"She must be in her bedroom, sire. I haven't seen most of her since." Georgie, our butler, a man as old as Methuselah replied Father, taking his briefcase and the small carton from him.

"Carry that carefully, it's a surprise gift for Heaven," Father said to Georgie and I stole a glance at the carton, curious about its content.

Father didn't look my way, not even when I grunted a welcome to him. He immediately hurried up the stairs, to go see how she was faring.

I watched him until he disappeared into the second floor, calling her name out loud.

I hissed and returned my attention to the TV, oblivious to whatever the anchorman was saying.

I've had no interest in politics or business, like my father. I'd more interest in anatomy, both animal's and humans and that was more reason why I want to be a surgeon in the future.

That way, I could easily satisfy my urge of seeing what laid underneath the human skin.

Till then, I just have to improvise with the helpless animals around me, including the cat Ghost-face was carrying as she walked down the stairs alongside Father.

The sight of the snow-white British shorthair cat, squirming against her small frame, ignited chaos within me.

That urge, to peel off the outer layer of its skin, slammed me like an air of nausea. I swallowed a hard gulp and looked away from them, subjecting my eyes to the TV, even though my attention had been drifted.

"Killian," Father called my attention and I reluctantly turned to them,

"Why were you being mean to your sister earlier?" He queried me, but my attention was on the plump, blue-eyed cat she was carrying.

The look on her face as she stroked its furs lovingly, was the look of pure admiration.

At that moment, I wanted nothing than to snatch it from her and take it down to the basement, but Father was giving me a disapproving glare and I dared not misbehave.

"Now, apologize to your sister." It was an order, one I couldn't object to, at least, not openly.

I took a few steps toward them and stopped right in front of her.

"Sorry for being mean to you earlier."

Apology tasted like a gall on my taste bud, but I couldn't escape this one. I swallowed the bitterness and continued,

"I promise to not be mean to you next time."

She bought my insincere apology and flashed me a smile, one I didn't reciprocate, rather I leaned closer to her as if I wanted to touch her new pet and I whispered against her hearing instead,

"Enjoy your win now, because there won't be any celebration when I finally destroy you."

Her body tensed against my words and I pulled away, stroking the cat's soft fur twice.

I flashed her a sinister smirk and turned my attention to our father,

"Goodnight, Father."

I spared her another glance before I ascend the stairs.

She was panic-stricken.

The cat jumped down from her arms, but she barely noticed it leave, as she was staring at me like she'd seen a ghost.

She should be scared because there was a lot to be scared of.