Bloodstock Island

Chapter 7

Several thoughts continued to plague Max throughout the night. He hardly had a wink of sleep, thrashing and rolling about in his bed. Flashes of images kept appearing in his subconscious, not making him rest.

Those hands reaching out, grabbing hold of him, pinning him to the floor. A few smiling faces of his teacher and classmates daze expressions, showing up in the darkness, rubbing themselves on his body.

It repeatedly played in his head he’d ended up panting each time he would open his eyes. But the worst feeling of all was the tingling in his privates. Upon remembering the mark they’d put in it.

He finally got out of bed, seeing from his window the sun’s shine. It glimmered just beyond the horizon where those giant orange walls were at. As per his usual routine, he remains for a good few minutes, staring at it.

In his mind, he kept whispering to himself, he’ll leave, he’s going to get out of there, follow his father’s footsteps to join the army and travel parts of the world.

Once he had his dose of dreaming, he goes straight to the bathroom. Since his head continued to be in chaos, and it seems there was only one way to calm it.

The minute he stood underneath the shower, he opens it in full blast, letting the strong, icy water run down his skin. The prickling sensation it brought remove those unwanted sensations inside of him, as his body began turning numb.

After a few moments under the streaming cold, and he could function again. The only remaining thing on his mind was the repercussion of what he’d done yesterday.

He rushes to put his clothes on. Afterwards, he grabs his empty bag, not bothering with taking his usual stuff. As a preparation and precaution. His chest continued to beat hard. Aware of what waited for him once he gets to school.

As he bolts down the stairs, heading straight for the door, face stern to steel himself to confront another possible backlash for his actions.

“Hey there, kiddo, leaving already?”

Max freezes in place, hearing the cheerful greeting when he passed by the kitchen. His expression quickly changing the moment he sees his father.

“Dad. What time did you get in? I didn’t hear you.”

He greets.

His old man was on the stove, apron on, skillet on hand, flipping fluffy pancakes with a wide smile on his face.

“About an hour ago. Anyway, where are you going this early? Doesn’t your class start in at least three more hours?”

Lance Dullahan notices his sons’ get up, a slouchy bag on his back, baggy pants and jacket. From the looks of it, he was already leaving.

He glances at the clock. Its small hands were pointing at the six, and the long one hadn’t even reached the twelve. Also, he realized how the young man was rushing before he saw him.

“I thought I’d go hit the gym before class. You know, do a bit of lifting, and maybe spar with the coach if he’s there.”

Max did a few air jabs, showing his form and speed.

It was one of those things he loved to do, and thankfully, his father was not against it. Even if a lot of the people there were condemning them, stating such a sport was nothing more than useless violence.

“We’ll, you better eat breakfast first.”

As he pointed his hand to the seat, the lad didn’t talk back and sat on his chair with a cheerful smile.

Upon gazing at the lively and energetic composure of his son, Lance’s mood lightened up. He began placing the steaming plates of fluffiness in front of the youngster before putting some bacon and eggs on the side.

“So mister Vavenski still visits. That’s a relief. So, how is school?”

He starts off their conversation, after pouring both of them a glass of orange juice. Yet his brow creased the minute he saw the youngster’s shoulder flinch.

Max nearly choked on his pancakes, suddenly getting a block in his throat. His father’s question cause some memories to jump out of him, remembering the incident yesterday.

It took him a few seconds to slam his fist on his chest, immediately grabbing a hold of his drink to take a quick gulp to remove the clog when it would not budge.

“Everything’s good, dad.”

He says with heaving breath, getting wheezing from the burning sense of having an enormous chunk of food scratching on his insides.

Once he recovered, he gave his old man the widest grin he can muster, wishing to hide the nudging horror of those memories behind.

But that only made the man’s face wrinkle, noticing how his son’s lip twitched with each word. Besides that, he also observed how the youngster kept averting his gaze, not looking at him each time they’d talk.

“You sure?”

Lance asks.

His parental instincts kicked in, telling him something was not right. For his child’s mannerism, he’d hardly see him avoiding to look into someone’s eyes, especially during a conversation.

Max took a glance at his dad when he heard his deep tone. His head remaining low, feeling the nudge of conscience and humiliation overtaking him.

He knew his father would not be pleased if he finds out what occurred at school. What scared him the most was the fact it could get his old man into trouble, if ever he tells him about it. Much like what happened to his coach.

“Yeah, everything’s good!”

He says, putting on a smile before lifting his chin up, giving his father a playful look of confidence.

But it seems it’s not enough to convince the guy, as his old man’s expression turned stern. After placing both elbows on the table, he rests his face in his hand, throwing a straight and serious glance at him.

Max’s heart race, sensing the pressure that took over the entire room. It was as if there were heavy hands pressing on his shoulder, being sent by the shadow that lingered behind his father’s eyes.

“Are you sure? You know I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

Lance’s tone became indifferent, stone cold even.

He was not born yesterday to not notice how his son was acting. Also, knowing the youngster’s persona, he’s aware something was bugging him again.

Though he wasn’t certain what it was, he can sense it to be quite serious. As there were only a few things in the town which bothered the boy.

Silence ensued between them as Max kept his mouth shut. Inside his head, he was already arguing with himself.

He knew he shouldn’t be keeping secrets from his father, especially not something like that. But then again, he did not want to make any trouble for them, knowing what it could cause.

These thoughts continued plaguing his mind, fighting over which he should follow. A part of him wish to tell the truth, wanting to let out the conflict and pain he was feeling. On the other was his sole desire to protect his dad from being ostracized and keep his own pride intact.

The pressure and tension between them was extreme. He began sweating like crazy, his lips trembling upon the uncontrolled pumping of his heart. It was so strong he could hear it from inside of him, drumming uncontrollably.

His entire body tensed up, nearly giving in from the weight of his conscience. When suddenly, a loud ringing echoed through the room, waking both of them from the daze of their little staring match.

It completely broke the crushing sense of the atmosphere, especially when his father jolted to the sound. His expression turning from serious to surprised in seconds.

Without a moment’s notice, the man stands up, rushes to the phone to pick it up. The moment he hears something on the other line, he immediately goes out of the kitchen, whispering in grumbles.

Instinct of curiosity kicking in, Max listens in, but he cannot catch anything except for his old man’s last grunting words.

“I’ll be there.”

After he hears footsteps, he immediately goes back to gobbling up as much bacon and eggs as he can. All the while keeping his head low, as if the food enthralled him.

“Everything okay, dad? Isn’t it a bit early for a call right after you just got home?”

Max was quick to ask, taking the chance to shift subjects.

The situation was too convenient for him not to do so. Especially since the entire thing intrigued him.

Also, with how his father’s expression remained sour was too much of a giveaway. His old man’s eyes had this rage in them, with shadow looming within its depth, jaw clenched as each step he took made a loud thumping sound at its speed.

He’d never seen him like that, not even during the time he got in trouble in school. Such an ominous reaction never showed, except now.

His voice woke his old man from his sudden trance, realizing he was still there. He quickly straightened up, putting on a smile before striding towards him.

“Another emergency came up. Finish your food, okay?”

Lance gives his son a good brush on the head, messing the boy’s hair up before walking away.

“You sure? You don’t look fine.”

It was Max’s turn to worry, realizing there was something going on.

It was unlike his father to always be in such a state. And the way his eyes had so much rage a while ago. It was as if he was getting ready for murder, having the terrifying bloodlust on him.

Even if it’s not directed at him, it caused his entire body to shiver, sending an icy chill down his spine. It nearly made him react to it, if it wasn’t his father.

“Yeah, will talk later. Okay.”

Lance gave out this weak smile, his back remained facing Max, proceeding to walk until he got out of the kitchen.

It left the youth contemplating, getting a sudden nudge in his chest. One thing came to mind, causing a rush of panic in him.

He immediately rushes to give chase to his dad, but before he even leave the room, he hears an engine roaring away. His father did not waste time upstairs and must have headed straight for the door out.

“Did he find out?”

This was the sole thought running on Max’s head, as he could not think of any other probable cause of why his old man would have such a grim state.