FUCKING WITH THE DEVIL

KEIR

I woke up with a start. Sitting up, eyes wide in panic, I tried adjusting to the darkness that enveloped me. It took a minute for my brain to compute that I was in my bedroom, back home in my parents' mansion. Only then did I feel the tension in my muscles ease, and I reached over the nightstand to switch on the bedside lamp.

A warm glow from the lamp illuminated the room, and I heaved a breath of relief as I got a better view of my surroundings. I was home; I was safe and under my parents’ protection. I was no longer trapped in that cold box with no whisper of light.

You are safe. Keir, Ma, and Pa won’t let anything hurt you again. I reminded myself.

Wiping my palm down my face, I threw the covers aside and got off the bed, making my way to the bathroom only to stop short as a loud thud rang through the walls. Something flashed in my memory, and the panic I had managed to quell returned in full force. Turning slowly on my heels, my brows pulled tight as I held my breath in wait for a repeat of the sound.

Instead, an unfamiliar silence enveloped the air, and a feeling of uneasiness settled in my guts as I padded towards the door. The door to my bedroom opened with a soft creak, and I peeked down the hallway.

Silence.

I was met with an eerie silence that screamed 'wrong' in many ways. This mansion was never completely silent, not with the kind of job my parents did. One or two guards should either be walking around the living area or up some stairs and I should be hearing the soft murmurs of conversation coming along somewhere.

Closing the door behind me, I walked down the dimly lit hallway. I was the only one on this floor and never had it been this silent. Even though I dislike closed spaces or waking up in the dark. I also hated being around too many people or having people in my personal space; it set me off so easily.

I stopped at the landing of the staircase leading to the fourth floor. Placing my hand on the bannister, I looked up. “Mom? Dad? Are you guys still awake?” I called, expecting an answer, but I was met with silence again.

The hairs on my nape rose, and I felt eyes on me as I walked. I turned swiftly only to be met with an empty hallway. I whipped my head back and forth, looking left and right to see if I could catch any movement, yet there was none.

It felt weird; despite how desolate the hallway felt, I could swear someone was staring at me intensely, and I couldn’t figure out where the stare came from. My eyes trained on the door on the right side of the wall, and that suspicious feeling grew. Could someone be in there? That room has always been empty, and I don’t even know where the key was, but...

I leaned forward, taking a closer look at the door. Why does it look like it’s opened?

Wait a minute.

I let go of the bannister, taking a step forward to take a closer look at the door, only to stop abruptly at the sound of someone’s muffled groans. My ears perked up and my shoulders tensed as I whirled around, and I listened again. The groans sounded again.

It was coming from downstairs. “Dad? Is that you? Do you have someone there?” I questioned, and this time I got a series of grunts in response.

I bounded down the stairs without a second thought, plunging into the unusual darkness of the mansion. I barely made it five steps down when I heard footsteps behind, and before I could turn to see who it was, a palm came over my mouth, and my hands were being pulled behind me as two unknown men gripped my arms.

Of course, I struggled against their hold, throwing my head back in protest.

“Fuck.” The fucker who had his palm over my mouth cursed as my head smacked into his face and his hold over my mouth slipped a fraction.

“Let me go, fu—.” The rest of my protest was cut short as the fucker slapped his palm over my mouth.

I winced in pain, struggling against their stronghold as they practically dragged me down the stairs. Panic flared in my guts at being restrained, but I tried to tone down my fear because that would only give them more power if they knew how scared I was.

I should’ve taken my gun when I left the room. Fuck! I cursed inwardly as the men dragged me down the last flight of stairs. Someone flicked on the light switch, and my eyes snapped shut momentarily at the sudden brightness.

“Where are the girls?” An all too familiar voice asked, and my eyes flew open. I know that voice.

Struggling against the men holding me, I managed to wriggle away from the palm covering my mouth, “Uncle D—.” I began to speak when his gaze cut to me and my mouth clamped shut at the fury in his eyes.

Muffled groans caught my attention again, and I snapped my head in the direction it came from. My muscles pulled tight in shock as I was met with the sight of my parents kneeling and bound with their hands behind their backs, their mouths taped shut.

“What the fuck!” My gaze snapped back to the man whose eyes had shut me up earlier. “What the fuck is going on? What the hell?” I cursed, anger coursing through my veins as I glared at him, the gravity of what was happening yet to settle fully in my brain.

The unreadable expression on his face didn’t waiver as he arched his brow at his men, and the next thing I knew, I was being hauled on my knees beside my parents. A ziplock snagged tight around my wrists.

“Fetch the girls.” He ordered in that grave voice that often sent cold tremors down my spine the few times I’ve heard him speak in that tone.

The command seemed to have unsettled my parents more as they began struggling against the ropes keeping them bound. Their attempts to speak ended up incoherent, and all that came out was the sound of muffled grunts and groans.

My uncle,

No. He wasn’t my uncle and we weren’t blood related. Even though we were practically family, according to my parents. The relationship between them was strictly business, but Ma and Pa had always referred to him as family. He was family. Yet I couldn’t make sense of why he was here in our living room, having us tied with guns trained on our heads.

I watched as he walked over to one of the sofas, his gait confident and albeit intimidating as he took his seat. Soon enough, the sound of my sister's screaming rang through the entire mansion as his men dragged them down.

“I gave you a home.” He began as his men unceremoniously dropped my sisters on the floor. “I gave you wealth. I gave you a name. I gave you, family.” His jaw ticked as he said the word family, and I watched as his features hardened. “All I asked was loyalty. Yet, you thought this was the best way to repay me?” My parents leapt forward as he finished, spit dripping down their jaws as they tried to speak behind the tapes covering their mouths. He shook his head, almost as if he knew what they were trying to say. “You know me, Lucky. I am a poor man when it comes to mercy. It isn’t a luxury I can afford.” He muttered in a dismissive tone, staring at my parents with a bored expression.

I guess it hadn’t really dawned on me the true extent of what was going on until I caught the subtle glance he directed at his men. It happened in a flash of two loud bangs and two muffled screams, and my parents were dead.