The Only Direction is Down (3/3)

The longer Kennedy stared down the hall, the farther it seemed to stretch and twist. The mess ahead was from no accident. Furniture was overturned, splintered wood littered the floor, and ominous streaks along the walls hinted at a violent, drawn-out struggle. With questions racing through his mind, he began to feel a weird emptiness in his stomach.

He stepped forward, clenching his dress shirt while a wave of anxiety washed over him. The darkness made the eerieness all the more unbearable. Glass shards from shattered lightbulbs glinted like sinister stars, scattered across the floor. He swerved around them carefully, his stomach sinking even deeper.

He stepped forward, an unsettling laugh breaking the silence. Kennedy froze, his breath shallow as a flicker of light spilled into the corridor. It was weak, clinging to life like a candle's dying flame.

He stepped forward, faint mumbling flooding his ears. By the voices coming from the TV, he could tell a familiar sitcom was playing. It was Maya's favorite, filled with laughter and giggles coming from the 'live audience' that was never actually present. He stepped forward, finding himself in the kitchen. Although the distance from the door to where he stood was particularly short, in these moments, it felt as though hours were passing.

He stepped forward, seeing Maya lying on the floor. Kennedy's heart skipped a beat from the sight. His legs shook a little, slightly giving in as he tried to process his aunt's state. "W-what..."

He stepped forward, stumbling after tripping over a tipped-over chair. The corny jokes and overused laugh tracks continued to fill the silence as he crawled across the floor.

"Maya! He screamed, gently shaking her body, "Wake up!"

No response.

Kennedy's heart raced and panic surged through him. His gentle shaking soon grew rough and aggressive, "Get up!" he begged, a tone more demanding than pleading.

His breath quickened as he glanced around the room, desperately searching for something that could help. The beaten TV continued to flicker and glitch on its wooden stand

With trembling fingers that trailed up Maya's neck, Kennedy put pressure right below her jawline. The sound of laughter was more prominent than ever—a cruel mockery of his anguish.

"UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

"There's no pulse... there's no pulse!"

"Her heart... could it have something to... no it can't be that. The house is in ruins, so it had to be someone who did this... it was a person. Who?" Kennedy stammered, tears welling in his infuriated eyes. He suddenly paused, his expression growing vindictive. His eyes sharpened and eyebrows lowered, "Is that even a question...? It was them... those fuckin' Posse bastards. I'll kill them all. Every last one of 'em!"

His body curled over and he grasped Maya's hand, "They'll pay... I swear it." He promised, his voice barely a whisper.

❖Yak's Workshop❖

Immersed in his workflow, Yak danced around his workshop, tending to his various projects. As always, it was a completely disorganized mess, but that didn't affect the pace of his progress at all. He was in such a deep trance that he didn't notice his doors sliding open. 

Bobbing his head to music that blasted from speakers, Yak moved with energy that defiled his sleep-deprived appearance. Some strange feeling made him feel like his name was being called, but the music completely engrossed him. He felt this sensation a few more times, only giving it attention when the sudden crash of items falling off his main desk spooked him.

At the entrance, Kennedy stood with his arm hanging in the air. He had just thrown the body of the dead thug.

"What the hell is wrong with you!? Don't enter my shop like that, boy! Got my heart dropping into my ass..."

Piles of scraps and failed mechanics clashed against one another while falling to the ground.

"Those Posse fucks killed Maya!" Kennedy growled.

Yak paused, his entire mood changing. He stared into the blaze that raged in Kennedy's wide eyes.

"Get over here. What you told me earlier, I'm getting it done!" Kennedy demanded, lowering his arm to point at the body, "Amp me up to eleven, now! I'm striking back and killing every last one of 'em!"