Cursed

Ethan looked down to his feet with a dark expression on as Harold continue his develish giggles. Harold looked at his son's hand, two knives slid off from Ethan's sleeves to his hands, its shiny blades flickered a blinding light that was reflected in Harold's eyes, he frowned. Leaping towards his father, Ethan aimed his knee to his father's annoying face which where an annoying smugness is glued on. Harold caught his son's knee with a single hand. Ethan's knee became blue, it bruised. Almost forgetting just how weak his son is and just how strong he is. Realizing and noticing that, Harold retracted his hand and asked.

" Son, are you alr-"

A platinum knife nearly took Harold's immortal life.

Frowning, " Sadly, he dodged. . ." Ethan's shrunken(wasted) pupils followed Harold who dodged and is now behind him.

" Are you a frog? Why would you jump to avoid it?" Ethan asked, turning towards his father with his expression covered in mockery. He sat on the table and prepare himself for another leap. Although he's already panting, he really just want this last to be at least 'memorable'.

" Haah. . . This lunatic. . ." Harold sighed. Charging in, but not planning on attacking. . . Just a little bit of threatening.

' Why do you even hate me so much?! I even sacrificed myself and my pride just so you could go to school. ' Harold asked at the back of his mind.

' Who asked you to do that? I told you I (used to) only want and need 'those' three things in life, and going to school is not a part of it. ' Ethan answered in his mind. Sitting on Harold's belly as he push the knife to his father's chest right after falling down to the floor with a thud. His hands trembled and stopped after his father's blood is touched. That's right, he only want Clara Yeshua (his mother), Harold Hendrix (his father), and Blake Yeshua (his younger brother) in his life, but now that the two are gone, loosing another one isn't much, and changing those three things are not quite impossible.

Lloyd who heard the father and son's thoughts was puzzled. Asking how did they understand each other's mind. "Crazy. . ."

" What's wrong? Did 'Love' dulled your blade?" Harold asked, joking. His gun made a click sound, it was aimed at the back of Ethan's head. Sneakily taking it out and pointing it at his son on the split second. Acting high, though its safety pin is on.

" That's right. . . How about you, don't tell me 'Love' stopped the momentum of your bullet? " Ethan jested his retort, getting off Harold and stood up, dusting his clothes. Then offering Harold a trembling hand. Harold only smiled, left feeling defeat once more, accepting the help the thin hand was offered to him. 'Small and fragile. . .' he thought as he look at Ethan's hand and body hiding behind a baggy white clothes.

" . . .What are your plans now?" Harold asked, knowing there's nothing he can do to stop Ethan who he trained to be a tyrant. Just accepting that their fight just a moment ago was a little message implying his son's goodbye.

" Sorry father, I'm not an open book type of a person, I can't tell you. Let's just play this game. Why don't you find it out yourself?" Ethan dared.

" Fine. . . Just promise me a few stuff. " Harold sighed, signalling the guys in the room to leave, including the ones with Ethan.

" . . . What is it? Oh, but first, how can I return Lloyd's memory? " Ethan asked while knowing what his father is trying to say.

" Why. . .? As long as they listen to your orders, their memory doesn't matter, they'd protect you even witho-"

" Who said I need to be protected? Didn't you see me massacring my cousins, or did you not see my letter stating one of my many identities?" Ethan said, tired of being treated as weak little prey. Cutting off his Father's words and impending nagging.

" That's different, he's (Ethan 2) a polar opposite of you. And being Mr. Founder brings more enemies than allies, the information you possess, the trust, the witness, and the responsibility. . . Can you handle it all when your identity became public? " Harold asked.

" We're getting off the topic, Father. Please just tell me how to return that guy's memories, or whether that's even possible." Ethan change the topic like a boss once more.

" . . . Just like your Mother's and Brother's, it needs a trigger. " Harold answered, feeling defeated once more. Struck by the 'curse'.

" I see. Then what would you like me to promise you?" Ethan finally asked what his father wants.

Harold took a deep breath. " For fuck's sake, don't use shorts! Your legs are freaking revealed! Don't you know how weak you are?! What will happen if one of your leg's veins suddenly popped from a light contact of whatever's solid?! If I can possibly stop you, I would've locked you up in a room full of fluffs, where not even air can escape. " Harold panted unnoticed after he stopped.

" Just like what you did to mother? " Ethan tilted his head, Harold jolted. ' You ordered them to leave just so you could nag me. . .? '

". . . How'd you know that? " Harold asked, a little guilty.

" Mother told me. She said you noticed how she was suffering from that room, so you let her be bound to that mansion the four of us call home instead. How naive. " Ethan has spoken the secret Harold has been hiding. . .

Harold sighed, accepting an absolute defeat. He has been cursed by Clara and Ethan, a curse more tormenting than any other torture he could think of, and a curse that made him sacrifice more than what he could ever gain—Love.