The Kingpin's Possession

83: An Eerie Silence

Kit:Kit woke up with a gasp, cold sweat dripping down his back. He had been trapped in eternal darkness, as though he was drowning and suddenly being pulled out of the water

Ironically, even though he had woken up, he still felt like he was being suffocated even though he just escaped the hell of his subconscious.

Cold sweat dripped down the side of his face. He looked around his room, trying to have his bearings back. It took a while for his disorientation to wear off. His head was spinning, and his heart refused to settle to a steady rhythm.

“It was just a dream,” he whispered to himself, hearing his voice echo around him as though he was in a cave, but also muffled like he was underwater or hearing himself talk from a different room. “You’re fine.”

But as much as his ears strained to listen to himself, his heart just wouldn’t cooperate. Still, it didn’t seem to matter because he was slowly starting to lose the dizziness that had held him hostage earlier.

And that was supposed to be a good thing.

Yet… as his vision gets clearer and clearer, it also gets increasingly obvious that something was wrong. The house was so… eerily quiet.

That was never a good sign.

“What is going on?” He muttered to himself, his heart giving a painful thud against his chest. He could feel it in his bones, the way everything felt so, so quiet. The light footsteps from the hallways outside where the guards usually patrolled at night, was completely missing.

He wanted to head outside, to find out what was happening, but he couldn’t help but feel that it would be a bad move. Still…he had to know.

Slowly, he got off his bed, calling out, “P’Kim…?”

No response. Not even shuffling outside the door.

“P’Aawut?” he tried again, but there was still nothing. No sign of anyone living inside the mansion at all.

He got to the door and reached for the handle to twist it open, but something in his gut told him to stop, to turn away. Hesitant, his hand slowly dropped back to his side.

Instead of swinging it open, he brought his ear to the door, pressing the side of his face against the wooden surface.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing.

Kit felt a cold shiver run down his spine, freezing him in place. Usually, he could hear the guards outside his door shifting positions, walking around, or even talking among themselves from time to time when things weren’t hectic, but today there was only eerie silence.

Something was seriously wrong, and Kit almost didn’t want to know what.

However, he was spared from the choice between curiosity and cowardice when there was a sudden thud against his door, the sound of something heavy bumping against it.

Frightened, he took a step back, trying to figure out if anyone was trying to break into his room. It wasn’t impossible at all, what with all the enemies he seemed to have been making left and right by virtue of simply existing alongside P’Kim.

“P’Kim?” he called again, unable to find the courage to turn the handle and see or himself what had happened. “P’Aawut?” Still, there was no response, but what did he expect? It was clear that they were in trouble.

Out of desperation, he cried out once again, “P’Kanya? Is anyone there?”

And then, as though some evil entity was feeding off on his fear and wanted more of it, something under the door caught his eye—a growing pool of blood started to seep into his room, its bright red hue difficult to miss even in the dark.

The sight of it made Kit want to gag, the metallic stench filling his nose even as he pressed his hand against his face.

Something terrible was going on, and he could no longer sit around and wait for someone to come save him. His hand moved before he could think, grabbing the knob and throwing the door open.

But before he could march out of his room and into the hallway, a body dropped into the room, falling onto the floor and splattering even more blood onto the floor, onto Kit’s legs.

Kit resisted the urge to scream. When he turned the fresh corpse to the side to identify him, he saw that it was none other than P’Aawut.

He wanted to throw up. ‘Horrified’ was not strong enough of a word to describe what he felt.

P’Aawut had several bullet holes in his body, one lodged into the spot right between his eyes, and as he lay unmoving on the floor, even more blood pooled around him, slowly turning the floor a dark crimson.

Kit didn’t know what to do, how to react. Who the hell would do such an evil thing? Especially to P’Aawut. Kit couldn’t even count with his hands how many times he had saved him.

And now he was gone just like this… right in front of Kit’s eyes.

Fear surged through him, replacing the shock that had kept him rooted in place. If someone as strong as P’Aawut had been killed so easily, there was no telling whether he himself would be safe, too, even if he hid in this room.

“P’Kim!” Kit found himself shouting at the top of his lungs as he fled the room—but there was nowhere to run, because the whole mansion had turned into a crime scene. The place was a bloodbath, the sight of it so violent that Kit felt his stomach try to eat itself from the inside out.

The walls and the floors were painted red with blood splatters, bodies littering the whole place like a massacre had happened while Kit had been sleeping.

He was so scared he couldn't even scream anymore. He just had to find someone, anyone at all, to tell him what was going on. He needed to get to P’Kim. He needed to know if his lover was safe.

Panic gnawing inside his gut, he crept downstairs, knuckles white as he clutched onto the railings for dear life.

But it was one nightmare after another, because the first body he stumbled upon at the foot of the staircase was the corpse of his own sister.

P’Kanya lay on the floor, motionless, in a pool of her own blood. There were two bullets lodged onto her body, one on her forehead and the other…in her belly.

The child!

Kit couldn’t even scream anymore, and he fell to his knees in the living room, chest heaving with grief and fear.

He couldn’t believe someone could’ve done something as horrible as murder a pregnant woman. Were they even human or monsters?

But before he could focus on P’Kanya, the horrifying scenery unfolded before him as his eyes roamed around the room and fell upon each armed personnel lying on the floor. They were P’Kim’s loyal guards, but now, their lives had wasted away as if they meant nothing.

N’Som and P’David were among the fallen, Kit could tell them apart from the sea of bodies without much difficulty. And it seemed that even Ben and Earth were here. But why?

Kit wanted to scream. If they hadn't come here, they would have been spared!

Why? Who could’ve done such a thing?

But then, his eyes wandered, and there, standing at the center of this bloodbath was his father, with his hands tight around P’Kim’s neck!

“P’Kim!” Kit screamed. He let his feet move him, but he couldn’t do much to save him, because just as he got closer to his lover and his captor, his father looked him right in the eye, freezing him in place.

“You should not have told your secret to anyone,” Ayan muttered. “I warned you didn’t I?”

“No! Please!” Kit fell to his knees, begging his father. “Kill me! Please, just kill me! Not him! Please!”

But Ayan didn’t even bother to listen.

Turning back towards P’Kim, he plunged his hand into P’Kim’s chest, and with a singular, grotesque tug, he managed to rip P’Kim’s still-beating heart out of his chest, and splattering blood everywhere, even on Kit’s face.