Page 58 of Freaks Of Nature

I roll my eyes and sneak past him. “About time,” I sneer over my shoulder. I could’ve done it just as well.

Maybe faster.

Breaking and entering has become one of our specialties. Sometimes it’s to steal, sometimes to leave something; it’s whatever Mr. DeMarco requires of us. We sneak in, we sneak out, without anyone the wiser until morning.

If at all.

But tonight, it’s a bit more than that. And we’re not here under the boss’s authority, either. This one is a personal matter to us.

We ghost up the stairs and down the dark hallway. It’s been three years since we’ve stepped foot into this wretched place, but we still remember every turn… every stain on these walls.

Cold fingers tease up my nape when we reach the apartment door and repeat the spiel on the lock. It feels eerie to creep back in here after all this time. I wonder if they’ll even recognize us.

Adjusting his mask over his mouth and nose, Ash takes the lead. I raise mine up too and check the dial on my watch. It’s 4:26 a.m. when we breach the threshold.

A heaviness settles over me with the first step in. The apartment looks exactly the same, sucking me instantly back into my memories.

My muscles freeze.

I close my eyes and force the lump forming in my throat down, taking a moment to mourn the innocence of our childhood that was ripped from us here.

My breaths grow deeper, but my hand still trembles when I draw my knife from my back pocket and push on.

My boots whisper along the dark living room carpet. It’s quiet. Save for the subtle snore coming from the Lazy Boy’s direction.

I recognize Jonathan’s baritone timbre, but I know Thomas is around too, even before I find his feet hanging over the side of the couch.

Assessing the room, Ash nods toward the recliner, and we go for the man sleeping there first.

He leans over him when I come up beside him, his left hand braced on the armrest. He taps a gloved finger to his forehead to rouse him, and I can picture the satisfied smirk curling under his mask. It’s the same one I’m carrying. We finally get to take our revenge.

Jonathan’s limbs jerk as his eyes open to the shape hovering over him. But he flails for only a split second before Ash’s knuckles collide with his throat, crushing his windpipe so he can’t scream to alert the others.

With his ass still planted in the recliner, his hands fly up to the injury, eyes wide in shock. He gasps for air, clawing at his jugular, but we know he doesn’t have long.

Ash straightens calmly next to me, mimicking my stance, and I wonder if Jonathan’s oxygen-deprived brain is catching on yet, or whether he thinks he’s seeing double—same black clothes and masks, we look identical.

In my periphery, Ash reaches for his mask. He slides it down slowly, drawing out the suspense until his full face is revealed underneath.

Jonathan’s expression reaches another level of terror, and his eyes dart from Ash to me, finding the same green there,glaring at him through the hole in the fleece. I don’t need to lower mine. He knows.

“He’s all yours.” I look at my brother, then back to him before making a motion to leave.

On a last, desperate burst, Jonathan’s hand shoots toward Ash. He makes an attempt to get up, his mouth flopping like a fish to call out to Thomas only a few feet away.

Ash takes a step back, his chuckle carrying to my ears as Jonathan drops to his knees, the air in his lungs depleted.

But his wide stare remains on me when I turn toward the door on my right.

“Hey! Over here,” I hear Ash tell him. “Eyes on me, asshole.”

I catch the flick and the faint sound of his knife plunging into soft tissue, chased by more slicing of fabric, but I don’t turn to watch my brother’s mayhem.

Walking past the couch, I leave Thomas to Ash, too. I have only one target in mind.

My right grip clenches around the steel handle of my knife, the blade still sheathed inside when I reach for the bedroom door. I pull it toward me, rotating the knob silently from the wrist, then push.

Ely doesn’t stir. I find him sprawled out flat on his stomach, a blanket covering him only from the waist down.