August 15, 2022, Charleston, West Virginia
Back in 2004, Callith was adopted by two rich people who thought raising a child would be in their league. But soon and expeditiously, they grew tired of him and treated him like he was a ghost who didn't even exist, completely ignoring him. It was soon after he grew up into his teenage years that he became very depressed and quiet.
Callith and Leon were similar in a way: both of them loved nature and wanted the world to enjoy. But there were differences as well. Leon cared for other people who struggled, who were depressed, and who were hurting. Callith, on the other hand, was more of a loner, ignoring everyone; he wasn't very social.
"Fuck life, to hell with mother and father. If those two can't see me, they don't need to see anything." Callith thought to himself while lying in bed. His room was big and decorated with nothing but posters of the forests and dimly lit lights on the ceiling. He couldn't dream of a good life as long as he was a shadow left in the back. Callith, hiding from others was best to stay away from them...rather than make things more difficult.
He only had a simple routine every day: Regret life while trying to pull himself together, or he would turn monstrous very quickly. Could you blame him for wanting to be seen? To crave attention and affection? He never even got the love he wanted from mother and father, but he no longer cares; those wishes were long gone, down into the back with the other shadows.
What I did in my time was clean, work out, and take a walk beside the Kanawha canal, the river in Charleston, so many God damn sounds, never a moment of peace. Nature was ok despite the city sounds disrupting it all. We screwed our ecosystems up by pumping all this shity gas into the air. I might as well call it Chernobyl.
Callith sat at the bench beside the river and stared into the water; ducks, fish sticking their mouths out of the water, and a boat sailing through, which got in the way of this scenery. He usually left after that and headed back home.
Callith would always walk by his father in the big room, or what he called "Mark's Office". All the time busy on the phone with rich assholes who craved for more and more money than anyone needed.
"Yes, I will buy the whole stock...how much? Awesome, I will be there. Make sure to bring lots of crates and meet your quota on time. I want all the tungsten in the place by Thursday." Said Mark. "And get me a coffee with that, a cappuccino."
My father, Mark, owned a smithing and weapons business while my mother, Tarila, was the manager at "Razor Metals", where my father manufactured everything shipped into their business. His father had a room to store a variety of weapons that were manufactured.
Other times, his mother, Tarila, would sneak out at night. Where was she going exactly? Well, she went to work at a strip club secretly and had affairs with other men. Callith never caught on to that, but Mark did, after finding kinky clothing in her dressing room.
"For the last time, Tarila, where were you last night!? I found out that another man was here last week, when I was away for a meeting. I came back home and found him speeding in the opposite direction from our backyard." Said Mark.
"You were probably tired, maybe you saw a journalist trying to spy on us." Yelled Tarila. I guess she was cheating on Mark with another man. He sounded pissed.
"I am going to start installing carmore in our room, the bathrooms, and other places you could have done it!" Said Mark.
"We can't have privacy now!? Are you serious?" Said Tarila.
"Because you had sex with another man in this house, bitch! Tell the goddamn truth." Hollard Mark.
"You know what, fuck this! I am sleeping somewhere else tonight, good luck, Mark." Said Tarila. She went out of the room and went to the guest room.
He overheard their argument until his father spotted him.
"What the hell are you doing standing there. I thought you knew better than to ease on our conversations!" Mark yelled.
"I was just coming home, seriously, I didn't mean to peek or anything," I said. I looked down at the floor, because this usually meant he was going to punish me with some kind of beating.
Mark went to the closet, pulled out a thick leather belt, and came over to me. "Take your shirt off, Callith..."
I did as he said and took five minutes' worth of belt lashing to the back and chest. When he stopped, I noticed many red streaks on my skin, barely covering the recent ones from last week. The last time he beat me was because he was drunk on wine and champagne. It lasted a while...longer than this time.
"Get out before I feel like I need to beat you some more." Said Mark. He was out of breath from the yelling.
Callith went to his room and rested in bed; he tried to, since his back was sore. He closed his eyes, finally drifting away...until he heard a deep, trapped, echoed voice. "Kill them, make them pay for how they treat you, show them no mercy. Make it last." It gave him chills and made him want to throw up. "What is this headache?"
Callith's head warmed up, and he felt a sharp pain on both sides. A shadow moved, defying the laws of physics. Then, his eyes shut, making everything dark for a moment. He saw a continuous vision of Mark and Tarila cut up, and turned into a cross as they were bound by their own flesh and tendons. "Do it my way, Callith!"
Callith woke up and found himself walking to the storage room. He picked up a dagger. The whole scene of their body gushing blood and being disemboweled was gruesome. "What have I done? I just killed a human being...two humans." He watched parts of himself do it, uncontrollably, yet most of it felt like he was in control. He got up and ran to the trash, bent over, and threw up black viscous liquid, which almost instantly evaporated into a smoke that vanished.
The maid walked in the door and saw the blood of Mark and Tarila. She was stunned by the gruesome scene and ran out. Later, he was arrested that day and put into a mental asylum. Callith stayed there for a few months until his psyche wasn't marked as insane or psychotic. They took him out and put him in prison. People called it the grey hell, as there were execution rooms there, and once you died, there was no coming back from it. Every corner had prison guards with weapons, watching at all times. Showers had them, and so did the bathroom, to make sure no one kept any secret or planned to escape. They put him in a cell alone with no one else, assuring he couldn't gett violent with anyone else.
A year had passed, and a new tall guy arrived. He was around seven feet tall and looked like me. His eyes had the look of guilt, depression, and sorrow. He watched him for a while out of curiosity. Callith staked him most of the time. His behavior was different from others and similar to mine: silent and depressed.
Callith felt something about him...Something he can relate to, but not feel great about. Both Callith and Leon's memories would forever haunt them.