God must die.
Word Count: 1863
"Elex, finish your food." His mother seldom tolerated an empty plate, he knew. She watched him with a prim frown on her face, emphasising smoking lines from years past. She always looked older when she smiled, like the discomfort of a passing moment drained all youthfulness from her countenance. And while Elex hated to see his mother frown, he struggled with correcting the situation. His plate sat mostly untouched despite the delectable food present - thick cuts of maple glazed honey ham, scalloped sweet potatoes, and lemon-basil orzo with parmesan still steamed with their recent cooking. While Anna rarely touched the stove, she took personal offense to any reticence in eating the prepared meals.
But Elex found only nausea in looking upon the food. He enjoyed ham, he knew, so this turn of appetite left him as lost as his mother. Similarly, he knew he went most of the day without eating. Likely that was the cause, he told himself, and that shoving a few forkfuls into his mouth would rekindle his appetite. It had to. He accepted no other alternative.
But an alternative made itself known despite his vehemence against it, and Elex loathed to acknowledge its existence. He sat at the old oak table, fork in hand and willed himself to stab into the meat, the orzo, the sweet potatoes. Easter dinner was prepared special for he and Erol, he knew - fitted to each of their flavor profiles in an effort to get the brothers to sit down together at last. And even as Erol found other plans with his best friend's family, Elex lacked that excuse for removing himself from the table. His mother would have him stay the night there until his plate looked clear. He looked down at the food with a twisting, pervasive sense of urgency, and yet could not bring himself to eat. His jaw stuck shut, his tongue clung frantic to the roof of his mouth. Each breath of fresh ham revolted his stomach.
He knew what he craved, and the thought left him rife with self-disgust. "I can't," he responded at last. "I'm sorry, Mother."
Anna sat on the upholstered parlor chair positioned in the corner of the dining room and looked out at him with mixed anger and concern. Her frown never left her face, and it pained him. Briefly she retired her crochet hooks into her lap and projected her consternation onto him. "What's gotten into you? You used to be such a good child, Elex. You used to eat all your food, you used to come home on time, and you never once snuck out at night."
Elex straightened, shocked. He worked his mouth to speak, but no words came forth to justify - or excuse - his nightly outings.
"That's right, I know. One of our neighbors spotted you crawling out of your bedroom window when he came home late from work. Frankly, I'm disappointed that you would even conceive of such a thing. Your father feels the same way. He's taken the liberty of installing new locks on your windows. We didn't want to do this, but we feel it's for your own protection. You must understand, Elex, that we live in a wonderful neighborhood here. But the rest of Destiny City isn't as safe, or as tolerant of teenagers cavorting around past curfew. You could get hurt, or someone could mistake you for a burglar and shoot you, or you might run into one of those teenage gangs that's been terrorizing everyone.
"I need you to answer me truthfully, now. Are you part of one of those gangs? Is that why you're going out at night, and staying out late, and coming home with bruises? You need to tell me, Elex. This is serious." Her tone belied concern, but Elex picked up far more of her patent cold fury in her delivery. She knew every mannerism for forcing her verbal adversaries into feeling small, incompetent, and submissive to her wrath.
And as he sat beneath her ire, Elex felt himself grow pale. His body worked to betray him. A cold sweat erupted, his hands shook, and he panicked as he fought for any story to come to mind - even a simple, contrived lie. He couldn't answer her with the truth. He couldn't, knowing what he'd been cautioned against in regards to familial interference. He couldn't --
Elex retched, and the semisolid remains of his dinner splattered over his plate. Immediately he brought his cloth napkin to his mouth and excused himself from the table. "Excuse me, Mother." He waited not for her reply; Elex kept the napkin pressed to his mouth as he walked with purpose toward the nearest bathroom. Dizziness overtook him somewhat, but even as the hallway started a slow, careening gait, he kept upright. Elex stopped for no one - not the nearby maid, not his shouting mother, not the shifting architecture. Finally he slipped inside and slammed the door shut behind him, then sank against its planar surface with a sigh of relief.
On the other side of the door came his mother's muffled concern. "Elex, honey, are you alright? Are you sick? Should I call a doctor?"
Quickly Elex reached over to turn the handset lock. "I'll be okay, Mother. I've just been under the weather." He waited through her rapid-fire inquiries with impatience, and only when he heard retreating footsteps did he leave the sanctity of the door.
He tossed the cloth napkin into the sink and turned the faucet on at full blast. Almost immediately, it soaked the cloth in question, and Elex wrung it out to press it to his forehead. Slow wipes across his face wicked away most of the cold sweat, and he rubbed the nape of his neck with the material before he knelt in front of the porcelain throne. Nausea churned in him relentlessly, threatening to drown his thoughts in tides of unsettled food. The teen groaned to himself.
Slumping forward, Elex rested his forehead on the lid of the toilet. The cool porcelain provided a modicum of relief for the slow pounding that crept into his skull. Had he gotten sick? Elex was uncertain; he still felt hungry, though not for the food served to him. He still felt disgusted with himself. And he knew that, regardless of what transpired in the small space, he would have to answer his mother's questions eventually. And what was he to say about that? That he was in a supernatural gang where they stole people's lives and ate them? That he was charged with sapping energy from strangers and whisking his stolen proceeds away to some undisclosed location? She'd have him committed, and rightfully so.
And his mother wasn't even close to the worst of his worries right now.
Knuckles rapped against the door twice, and Elex immediately recognized the voice on the other side. "Hey, Lex, can you open the door? Mom's worried about you."
Elex considered it, considered responding, but the cool air wafting up from the open toilet kept him rooted to the spot. His limbs felt heavy, though he couldn't tell if their weight came from guilt or sickness - or both.
But his brother was never a patient one. Soon Elex heard the familiar click of a thin rod pushed through the hole in the handset, and the unmistakeable coiling of the spring informed him of his brother's entry. Soon the door unlatched, the older Yorke child stepped inside, and then shut the door quietly. "Hey," came a second, quieter greeting. "You alright?"
Elex smiled faintly, his eyes closed, and loosed a weak laugh in response.
Carpet crushed quietly beneath bare feet and Erol moved to kneel by his younger brother. He gave Elex a few gentle pats on the back, then rubbed idly at the thin shirt he wore. "Mom just about blew up my phone the minute you wouldn't eat everything on your plate. She even had the driver come by to pick me up. Pretty wild, right? She's pretty good at losing her s**t."
"You weren't at the Driscoll's house for Jack." Slowly the nausea faded, and with it went some of his dizziness. His brother's touch helped to allay his nerves. Elex sighed, and a thin fog formed on the porcelain.
"Guilty as charged." Elex could feel his brother's smile without bothering to look. "I was more than a little pissed when mom started saying I had to come home. But I'm glad I did; you look like s**t. You sure I can't get you something? Maybe a little ginger ale?"
"No." Elex sat up slowly and pressed his palms over his eyes. He felt better when he spoke. "Why do you go to her, knowing what she's like? You know that she toys with you. She's got others like you, each compartmentalized in her insipid little schemes. Every other night she's out on the docks sewing her sadness into a new eager vessel. So why do you waste your time on her knowing that, in a week's time, she'll be moaning into another man's neck?"
Erol whistled, the sound sharp in the bathroom confines. "Someone doesn't like Geneva. Now's not the time to talk about her, not after you just threw up all over your dinner. Mom's right, you know? You haven't been yourself. You've been even quieter than usual, and you've been coming home with bruises that, no offense, you're total s**t at explaining away. Everyone knows something's up, so come clean about it. We just want to help you, Elex, but no one can do anything if you don't tell us what's happening."
Elex smiled again, his laugh as cold as the porcelain. "I can't. We've lived in a lot of different places, but all of it pales to the strangeness in this city." He paused for a time, and the silence hung heavy between them. "I can't explain it to you, Rolli. I can't." Neither could he hide it, he knew. His mother wouldn't tolerate such secrets in her house.
He knew about this. He knew this would happen to me. That has to be why he pushed me so hard. That's why he packed all those training sessions so tightly together, why he kept pushing me to get hurt, why he demanded that I continue training with him - he had to know. He wanted it. He aimed for it and I couldn't possibly know what he was up to. He warned me about my family so he could leverage them against me. And what a show it is. I couldn't have asked for anything more.
I can't drink up the sea. I can't wipe away the horizon with a sponge. I can't unchain the earth from the sun, but god must die. Of course it comes to this, so let the world look on with interest.
But not just yet.
"I can get through this on my own. If you can help me with Mother, that will be enough." Elex dropped his hands at last and looked to his brother with algid resignation in his eyes.
