Categories > Original > Horror > Flames of Fury: Rekindled
Chapter Three
The next morning, he woke up early and gathered his belongings for school. By 6:00 am, he was already waiting at the bus stop. Half an hour later, the large yellow vehicle appeared. He climbed in and took his assigned seat. One the way to school, the radio was playing. He was absently humming the melody when a newsbreak interrupted the tune.
"Due to an accident on Coral Drive, traffic is advised to avoid this area. And now back to your music."
Milo cackled at the bulletin. The kids that sat around him gave him strange looks. He was still stifling chuckles when they arrived at the school. As he climbed off the bus, the driver pulled him aside.
"Milo, you were being very disruptive today. Usually you're so well behaved. What's going on?" Her face showed overly dramatic sympathy.
Milo grinned, canines gleaming, and replied, "I showed him who was in charge." With that he walked off the bus and into the building.
The day passed quickly. As Milo walked home from the bus stop he spied a police car parked in front of his house. He walked in and saw his mom sitting on the couch in tears. Two police officers stood before her.
"Are you Milo Anderson?" The officer was an older man with a large stomach and a bushy mustache. Milo nodded an affirmative and the officer continued. "I'm officer McDouglas and this," he gestured to the young woman standing beside him, "is officer Kliminns. We've got a few questions to ask you about your father, if you don't mind..."
"I do." Milo cut in. He turned and walked up the stairs, his mother's scolding voice following him. He threw down his backpack and slipped off his sneakers.
His mother walked into the room and slammed the door behind her.
"Milo, I can't believe you'd be so disrespectful! You get down there right now and speak to those officers." Her face was tear-stained and her eyes were rimmed red. Grudgingly, he walked back down the stair and flopped down onto the couch.
"Well, what do you want to know?" His voice held a hard edge.
McDouglas cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Milo, do you know anybody who would want to harm your father?"
Milo scoffed and replied, "Yeah, of course I knew people that would want to hurt him." The officers tensed at these words.
"Well, who?" Kliminns' voice was that of a curious child.
Milo smirked and said, "Well, me for one. Another was the old paperboy, Jake Moyers. His boss's son, Ben Bradens and, to my knowledge, another high school student, by name of Jason Collins."
The next day at school, Milo walked to class, Molly was clutching to his arm and babbling what she thought were soothing words in his ear. He stared at the ground as he walked, navigating by people's shadows.
He thought about his mother, how she had taken the loss. She hadn't even known that he had killed his father, let alone known why. He shook his head at her naiveté. All the signs were there, but were they really that hard to read? He sighed and then jumped when he felt Molly put her arm around him.
"I'm so sorry Milo... I don't know what to say or do..." She looked up at him and he could see tears forming in her eyes. He sighed again and pulled away from her. He didn't want her to comfort him, not for that beastly man's death. She was treating him like he was some lost puppy without his father.
They reached the door of the classroom and Milo reached out to open it.
"Here, let me get it." Molly jumped forward and opened the door for him. He lowered his head and walked through the door. Did she think he was incapable of opening his own door? He let his hair fall into his eyes as he glared at her.
The day passed slowly, with Molly continuing to treat Milo as if he were barely able to walk alone. It was only lunchtime and Milo was already about to lose his temper. When Molly told him to sit down and wait for her to get them lunch, he had to get away. When he was sure that she couldn't see him, he stood up and left the lunchroom.
He walked into an unused classroom and sat down at one of the empty desks. It wasn't long before he heard Molly's voice calling out his name. He was about to respond to her sixteenth beckon when she poked her head through the door.
"There you are! I thought I told you not to wander off!" She stepped through the door and placed her hands on her hips. Milo lowered his head and glared at her through his hair. That was the some way his father had looked at him when he misbehaved. He smiled softly at a thought that crept into his mind as she walked farther into the room.
She smiled and turned back to close and lock the door behind her. "You just need a little comfort, don't you? I mean, I don't know what I'd do if my father... well, you know..." She shuffled her feet and took another step closer, undoing the first button on her blouse.
Milo wasn't even listening to what she was saying. He stared at the presently locked door disbelieving. When she took another step forward, he stood up and took a corresponding step back.
"Milo, I just want to help you, don't you see that?" She took another step forward and he took another step back. "Milo, what's wrong with you?" Her tone was accusing, faultfinding.
He shook his head and shouted, "You're not gonna do this again... Not now, not ever again!" He reached into his back pocket and drew out the letter opener he stowed there when he had entered the room. "You're just like he was! Always treating me like I'm less-than! Not again!"
Milo stood over Molly's trembling body. She was tied to one of the desks with his belt and was stripped naked. Milo leered down at her, his canines showing. Her body was bruised and bloodied and she was curled up into a small shaking ball.
"Milo, p-please stop.. This isn't... ugh! This isn't the real you!" He chuckled at her.
"Molly, how would you the real me? You always treated me like I was some small child, too stupid to function on its own. So, how would you know the real me, huh? Nobody ever took the time to know me! How the hell would you know the real me?!" With a cry of rage he slashed at her again. Her scream of agony caused him to chuckle. She pulled at the belt, futilely trying to free herself.
Between sobs she said, "Milo... please let me go... I'm sorry for treating you badly! I'm sorry!"
Milo grinned and said, "Too little, too late Molly. It's your turn to suffer now, not mine. I've served my time of suffering." With a final dash at her, he ended her life, chuckling as the life drained from her body.
The bell rang just as Milo walked into the final period. He sat at his usual seat in the back of the class and pulled out his notebook. The teacher started the lesson and Milo started to write. He didn't know quite where the poem came from, but it was beautiful none-the-less.
Bloodied and bruised
The small bird sits
Perched upon the desk
Pecking at its binds
Who hurt this little bird?
The bird sings
The last note echoes...
He chuckled. Molly had inspired it. Dear little Molly who was now no longer with us had inspired that beautiful piece. It seemed suiting to him to have such a beautiful piece as a reminder of such a beautiful person.
He glanced up and looked out at the class before him. He took a quick look at the chalkboard, noting the lesson and then turned his view to a pretty girl sitting in the corner adjacent to his own. She glanced over her shoulder and caught his gaze. She stared at him, eyes unwavering, until the teacher called her name.
"Ashley, what is the second name for the resolution on a story?" The teacher glared down her glasses at her.
"Um, 'the end'?" Ashley smirked at the teacher smugly. The teacher pushed up her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. As she turned to ask another student, Ashley looked over at Milo. Milo flashed her a charming smile and gestured for her to wait for him after class.
The bell rang and Milo looked up to see Ashley standing over him. She glanced down at his notebook, which he quickly covered up. She shook her head quickly and met his gaze.
"So, you're Milo, aren't you?" Her voice was powdered sugar, sweet, but hard to swallow alone. He nodded, slung his bag over his shoulder and stood. He stood at least a head taller than her and she seemed more than happy for this. Without any provocation, she reached out and latched onto his arm. Milo nodded his head to her and they walked out of the room.
When they were out of the hearing range of any teachers, Ashley released his arm and turned on him. Feet planted firmly on the ground, hands on hips, face set to an expressionless gaze.
"Alright, want do you want done?" Her question was straight forward enough, but Milo was still caught off-guard.
"Right now isn't the best time. I'd like to set up a different time." His voice was nervous and he hated himself because of it. Ashley's laugher brought him back from his thoughts.
"Look, Milo, you might not know how this works so I'll clue you in now. Mine is a first come first served business. I don't exactly keep an appointment book." She laughed again, a harsh grating sound that made him cringe.
"Fine, I'll try again tomorrow..." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving
Ashley standing alone behind the school gym.
The next morning, he woke up early and gathered his belongings for school. By 6:00 am, he was already waiting at the bus stop. Half an hour later, the large yellow vehicle appeared. He climbed in and took his assigned seat. One the way to school, the radio was playing. He was absently humming the melody when a newsbreak interrupted the tune.
"Due to an accident on Coral Drive, traffic is advised to avoid this area. And now back to your music."
Milo cackled at the bulletin. The kids that sat around him gave him strange looks. He was still stifling chuckles when they arrived at the school. As he climbed off the bus, the driver pulled him aside.
"Milo, you were being very disruptive today. Usually you're so well behaved. What's going on?" Her face showed overly dramatic sympathy.
Milo grinned, canines gleaming, and replied, "I showed him who was in charge." With that he walked off the bus and into the building.
The day passed quickly. As Milo walked home from the bus stop he spied a police car parked in front of his house. He walked in and saw his mom sitting on the couch in tears. Two police officers stood before her.
"Are you Milo Anderson?" The officer was an older man with a large stomach and a bushy mustache. Milo nodded an affirmative and the officer continued. "I'm officer McDouglas and this," he gestured to the young woman standing beside him, "is officer Kliminns. We've got a few questions to ask you about your father, if you don't mind..."
"I do." Milo cut in. He turned and walked up the stairs, his mother's scolding voice following him. He threw down his backpack and slipped off his sneakers.
His mother walked into the room and slammed the door behind her.
"Milo, I can't believe you'd be so disrespectful! You get down there right now and speak to those officers." Her face was tear-stained and her eyes were rimmed red. Grudgingly, he walked back down the stair and flopped down onto the couch.
"Well, what do you want to know?" His voice held a hard edge.
McDouglas cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Milo, do you know anybody who would want to harm your father?"
Milo scoffed and replied, "Yeah, of course I knew people that would want to hurt him." The officers tensed at these words.
"Well, who?" Kliminns' voice was that of a curious child.
Milo smirked and said, "Well, me for one. Another was the old paperboy, Jake Moyers. His boss's son, Ben Bradens and, to my knowledge, another high school student, by name of Jason Collins."
The next day at school, Milo walked to class, Molly was clutching to his arm and babbling what she thought were soothing words in his ear. He stared at the ground as he walked, navigating by people's shadows.
He thought about his mother, how she had taken the loss. She hadn't even known that he had killed his father, let alone known why. He shook his head at her naiveté. All the signs were there, but were they really that hard to read? He sighed and then jumped when he felt Molly put her arm around him.
"I'm so sorry Milo... I don't know what to say or do..." She looked up at him and he could see tears forming in her eyes. He sighed again and pulled away from her. He didn't want her to comfort him, not for that beastly man's death. She was treating him like he was some lost puppy without his father.
They reached the door of the classroom and Milo reached out to open it.
"Here, let me get it." Molly jumped forward and opened the door for him. He lowered his head and walked through the door. Did she think he was incapable of opening his own door? He let his hair fall into his eyes as he glared at her.
The day passed slowly, with Molly continuing to treat Milo as if he were barely able to walk alone. It was only lunchtime and Milo was already about to lose his temper. When Molly told him to sit down and wait for her to get them lunch, he had to get away. When he was sure that she couldn't see him, he stood up and left the lunchroom.
He walked into an unused classroom and sat down at one of the empty desks. It wasn't long before he heard Molly's voice calling out his name. He was about to respond to her sixteenth beckon when she poked her head through the door.
"There you are! I thought I told you not to wander off!" She stepped through the door and placed her hands on her hips. Milo lowered his head and glared at her through his hair. That was the some way his father had looked at him when he misbehaved. He smiled softly at a thought that crept into his mind as she walked farther into the room.
She smiled and turned back to close and lock the door behind her. "You just need a little comfort, don't you? I mean, I don't know what I'd do if my father... well, you know..." She shuffled her feet and took another step closer, undoing the first button on her blouse.
Milo wasn't even listening to what she was saying. He stared at the presently locked door disbelieving. When she took another step forward, he stood up and took a corresponding step back.
"Milo, I just want to help you, don't you see that?" She took another step forward and he took another step back. "Milo, what's wrong with you?" Her tone was accusing, faultfinding.
He shook his head and shouted, "You're not gonna do this again... Not now, not ever again!" He reached into his back pocket and drew out the letter opener he stowed there when he had entered the room. "You're just like he was! Always treating me like I'm less-than! Not again!"
Milo stood over Molly's trembling body. She was tied to one of the desks with his belt and was stripped naked. Milo leered down at her, his canines showing. Her body was bruised and bloodied and she was curled up into a small shaking ball.
"Milo, p-please stop.. This isn't... ugh! This isn't the real you!" He chuckled at her.
"Molly, how would you the real me? You always treated me like I was some small child, too stupid to function on its own. So, how would you know the real me, huh? Nobody ever took the time to know me! How the hell would you know the real me?!" With a cry of rage he slashed at her again. Her scream of agony caused him to chuckle. She pulled at the belt, futilely trying to free herself.
Between sobs she said, "Milo... please let me go... I'm sorry for treating you badly! I'm sorry!"
Milo grinned and said, "Too little, too late Molly. It's your turn to suffer now, not mine. I've served my time of suffering." With a final dash at her, he ended her life, chuckling as the life drained from her body.
The bell rang just as Milo walked into the final period. He sat at his usual seat in the back of the class and pulled out his notebook. The teacher started the lesson and Milo started to write. He didn't know quite where the poem came from, but it was beautiful none-the-less.
Bloodied and bruised
The small bird sits
Perched upon the desk
Pecking at its binds
Who hurt this little bird?
The bird sings
The last note echoes...
He chuckled. Molly had inspired it. Dear little Molly who was now no longer with us had inspired that beautiful piece. It seemed suiting to him to have such a beautiful piece as a reminder of such a beautiful person.
He glanced up and looked out at the class before him. He took a quick look at the chalkboard, noting the lesson and then turned his view to a pretty girl sitting in the corner adjacent to his own. She glanced over her shoulder and caught his gaze. She stared at him, eyes unwavering, until the teacher called her name.
"Ashley, what is the second name for the resolution on a story?" The teacher glared down her glasses at her.
"Um, 'the end'?" Ashley smirked at the teacher smugly. The teacher pushed up her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. As she turned to ask another student, Ashley looked over at Milo. Milo flashed her a charming smile and gestured for her to wait for him after class.
The bell rang and Milo looked up to see Ashley standing over him. She glanced down at his notebook, which he quickly covered up. She shook her head quickly and met his gaze.
"So, you're Milo, aren't you?" Her voice was powdered sugar, sweet, but hard to swallow alone. He nodded, slung his bag over his shoulder and stood. He stood at least a head taller than her and she seemed more than happy for this. Without any provocation, she reached out and latched onto his arm. Milo nodded his head to her and they walked out of the room.
When they were out of the hearing range of any teachers, Ashley released his arm and turned on him. Feet planted firmly on the ground, hands on hips, face set to an expressionless gaze.
"Alright, want do you want done?" Her question was straight forward enough, but Milo was still caught off-guard.
"Right now isn't the best time. I'd like to set up a different time." His voice was nervous and he hated himself because of it. Ashley's laugher brought him back from his thoughts.
"Look, Milo, you might not know how this works so I'll clue you in now. Mine is a first come first served business. I don't exactly keep an appointment book." She laughed again, a harsh grating sound that made him cringe.
"Fine, I'll try again tomorrow..." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving
Ashley standing alone behind the school gym.
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