Shackled Serenity

by Leon Logos

  “Just a bit more, there’s no time to rest!” he said.

  “Just—just a minute,” she panted, catching her breath.

  It wasn’t the running that fatigued her, but the series of unexpected events that had transpired in the last hour. A million of questions buzzed around her head, desiring answers.

  “Thirty seconds, starting now,” Kyler pressured, counting in his head.

  The thirty seconds flew by like ten seconds. Before she knew it, they were off running again. By the front of the house, people got into their cars in a hurry and drove off. Multiple car collisions ensued in the process. Some people were injured, clearly shot. Kyler paused, scanning the environment.

  As Serenity observed the disorder, something caught her eye. At the entrance of the house, next to the fountain, lay Amara. She squinted for a better look. Her jaw dropped. She wasn’t dead, but rather maimed. Her right leg had been shot, bleeding profusely. She watched as Amara clutched her leg, writhing in anguish, face contorted in distress and fear. The only possible explanation was that she had been caught in the crossfire.

  “AMARA!” she screamed, breaking into a sprint.

  “STOP!” Kyler shouted alarmingly, catching up to her in seconds.

  He grabbed her with one arm and then retreated again, pulling her farther away from the house property. They were about fifty yards away now.

  “MY FRIEND IS HURT! KYLER, LET GO—”

  BOOM!

  Twice as earsplitting as the Magnum shot, an explosion ripped the air. Kyler was knocked off his feet, tumbling to the ground with her. Serenity’s ear drums pierced again as she covered her ears with her hands. The ground vibrated intensely and the night lit up. She looked up in horror; the mansion had just gone up in flames, as if a bomb had detonated from the inside. The scorching, sweltering heat from the fire could be felt; it almost melted her skin.

  Everything in the vicinity was decimated, including everybody who was outside near the house. Debris and rubble flew in all directions. Flames began spreading, creeping closer to them. Even people within ten to twenty yards of the house were burned to a crisp or on fire. Their cries were bloodcurdling.

  Serenity stared for a couple of seconds and then broke down, realizing what had just happened. She screamed at the top of her lungs in denial, despite her hearing not functioning. She felt Kyler grab her again, his arm round her waist, dragging her further and further away from Hell. Tears leaked down her eyes as she realized her friend, who was breathing life just moments ago, wasn’t any longer; rather, she had ascended with the fireball generated in the explosion.

  CHAPTER TEN

  What followed after was hazy in memory. She was dispirited, traumatized, and dead on the inside as Kyler carried her virtually lifeless body away. Tired of dragging and pulling, he hoisted her up onto his back. The van finally arrived, pulling up to them in a hurry. Within seconds, both of them were inside, and the van retreated at max speed. Her eyes were open but saw nothing but blackness. Tony dead. Amara dead. Aurelians dead. People dead. Everything gone. These were the thoughts that surfaced. But there was no reaction, no strength to dwell on it.

  Her hearing gradually recuperated itself. In conjunction, her sight. She was seated in the back of the van, which was her designated spot. Low voices were audible, speaking in the dark. They must’ve been driving for about twenty-five minutes, but only now was she fully conscious of her surroundings. Her body was fatigued, her mind was fried, her head was pounding and her heart was broken. All of the brothers were seated in their usual seats, Desmos behind the wheel. She listened to their conversation attentively but lethargically, seeking answers without opening her mouth to ask.

  “I did my part, it’s not my fault you guys couldn’t do yours,” Agno complained sourly.

  “You were a sniper,” Cackle said. “Easiest job in the world. We had to do the dirty work, up close and personal!”

  “Damn right,” Garen concurred.

  “We all did our jobs,” Desmos mediated. “There were just a few factors we failed to take into consideration. It wasn’t supposed to be so fortified.”

  “And we weren’t supposed to switch positions so frequently,” Agno scowled. “Too many spur-of-moment decisions had to be made.”

  “I’m not sure if we can call this a win or not,” Desmos said. “We eliminated our targets, but who would’ve thought they were willing to blow themselves up. We’re the ones running now.”

  “But why the hell were there so damn many of them?” Garen asked heatedly.

  “Inconsequential, we expected them to be high in number from the start,” Desmos said dismissively. “But posing as security guards was slick.”

  “What does Father know?” Agno asked.

  “Still on standby,” Desmos replied. “I don’t have to tell you this, but he’s not going to be happy.”

  A moment of silence followed this statement. Cackle turned around arbitrarily and noticed her conscious.

  “You done sulking, or you gonna start crying again?” he gibed.

  All of the brothers turned to face her, Desmos looking through the rearview mirror. She didn’t raise her eyes, keeping her gaze lowered.

  “You ready to speak yet?” Kyler asked her.

  “Why the hell did we send you anyway?” Garen asked him. “Your soft spot for her could’ve jeopardized the entire mission.”

  “I did my part,” Kyler refuted. “Eliminated the target, a couple others, and made it back with her. If you guys had cleared the perimeter a bit more efficiently, I could’ve been quicker.”

  “Don’t start,” Desmos interjected, as Garen cracked his knuckles in indignation. “It’s done, get over it. Remember, as soon as we make it home, you all have fifteen minutes to pack.”

  “They could be on our tail as we speak,” Agno said.

  “I’m betting on it,” Garen agreed.

  “Yo, Kyler,” Cackle smirked, looking at her. “What exactly was going down when you walked in on them?”

  “They were struggling,” Kyler said ambiguously.

  “Woah, seriously?! You shot him when they were busy?!”

  “He had a knife to her throat, that was it,” Kyler clarified placidly. “Don’t get too excited, damn ape.”

  Cackle glowered, but he surprisingly didn’t talk back. This was rare. He shifted his attention back to her.

  “Stop moping and say something,” he mocked.

  “Leave her be,” Desmos ordered, coming to her aid for once.

  “For what? The hell she sad for?! She did nothing but get cornered again. On top of that, she needed rescuing for the thousandth time.”

  “Her friend died in the blast,” Kyler replied bluntly.

  “Big deal,” Cackle muttered.

  Nobody spoke during the remainder of the drive. Garen, Agno, and Cackle fell fast asleep. Only Desmos, who was driving, and Kyler who was constantly alert, remained awake. As tired as she felt, slumber didn’t bless her.

  From what she gleaned from their conversation/argument was this: the whole thing was a contrived and premeditated mission, clearly the “hunt” Desmos had talked about. They had known Tony was an Aurelian for quite a while and he was their primary target. The explosion that had occurred was not considered, and it seemed they would be moving again. Above all, this was all kept secret from her. All of it.

  They reached the house at 1:00 AM. Immediately, as Desmos parked the van, he barked at all of them to get out.

  “MOVE IT! Fifteen minutes and we hit the road again. Make sure to change into regular clothing and pack the guns!”

  Garen woke up with a jolt, clambering out of the van lazily. Cackle and Agno followed suit. Desmos noticed Serenity in the back, not moving a muscle. She didn’t have the motivation to even speak, let alone move.

  “You’ve had enough time to mourn, now get out,” he said patiently.

  Serenity looked at him expressionlessly; she was so dejected that she felt no fear in disobeying him. On the inside, she was
furious at him. Not just at him, but the others, too. And at her life. At the nightmares and loss that constituted it. At being kept in the dark constantly.

  “I’ll pack her stuff,” Kyler told Desmos, before he darted inside with the others. Desmos didn’t waste time arguing about it; he followed the others inside, leaving her alone in the car.

  By ten minutes, all of them were in the car; their bags were loaded into the back of the van. These bags, which stored their belongings, were packed mostly with weapons and equipment rather than clothes.

  Then it was back to the road. The brothers went back to sleep, thankfully. She used this time to recollect and organize her thoughts for the tenth time. To recall the day’s events. Truthfully, she could barely remember what happened before the party. Only vaguely could she remember even driving to the party.

  How this disaster and Amara’s death could’ve been prevented crossed her mind if the brothers or herself hadn’t shown up. There were many regrets that encompassed her life; this was, by far, the most substantial mainly due to how easily it could’ve been prevented. If she had only declined the invitation, or if Desmos had denied her request. Though, permitting her to attend must’ve been his plan along. To use her as bait. Again. How long they had known Tony’s true identity could only be speculated, but it was starting to come all together. This was why Desmos encouraged her to give him her number; so that he could cultivate and fuel her relationship with Tony.

  The more she pondered it, the more she realized they could’ve done this by themselves. She wasn’t needed; they just used her for convenience. But why didn’t they just take Tony out at school? Or tail him home and kill him there? Too many unanswered questions still lingered. Ultimately the result of all of this was irreversible; innocent lives had been taken. And the victims’ families were ruined. Serenity couldn’t bring herself to even comprehend what Amara’s mother was going through right now. Learning her daughter had been killed inexplicably in a bombing that never should’ve happened, or a shooting that never should’ve transpired. The police must’ve been just as bewildered; they had nobody in custody, and their only witnesses consisted of drunken teens, who were just as baffled.

  One of the worst feelings tormenting her was guilt. It was all her fault. Amara and all those other kids died on her account. Tony went after her, and she practically ran into his arms. Desmos was aware and only permitted it. She was foolish to blindly fall into a trap. Her ignorance prevailed. She also acknowledged her incompetence; she could’ve handled Tony with the weapon in her back pocket. That tiny knife should’ve been the key to gaining the upper hand and escaping danger. Though, those two armed men were still next-door on the balcony. Nevertheless, as Cackle logically mentioned, she had to be rescued. Again.

  The images of the night, rife with bloodshed, were still carved vividly into her memory. From the wounded and terrified teenagers, to Tony’s deceased body, the moment of the explosion, to Amara herself, whose last moments of life she personally witnessed. None of this would ever dissipate. Not any time soon. Serenity closed her eyes drowsily. At last, the sustained fatigue she had been enduring for the past couple of hours took its toll. Sleep overtook her finally and her mind went blank, granting respite.

  She awoke when the van suddenly stopped. Serenity opened her eyes, peering out the window. They had pulled up to a dilapidated-looking motel, on the side of the road. It was reposed in the middle of nowhere. No other businesses or establishments were in sight. Only four other cars were parked, excluding the van. The endless chirping of crickets interrupted the silence in the night. Serenity checked the time on her phone (which she miraculously hadn’t lost in the midst of all the chaos); it was 3:30 in the morning. The others woke up one after the other.

  “Where are we?” Cackle yawned sluggishly.

  “We’ll spend the remainder of the night in here,” Desmos explained.

  “Can’t we just sleep in the car?” Agno asked. “I hate these musty motels with their shabby beds.”

  “It’s not safe,” Desmos said. “The Aurelians have already received word about tonight. They’re tracking us. Everybody out.”

  They unloaded their bags from the back. This time, Serenity got out of the van. A bed was what she needed and Desmos would’ve dragged her out forcefully if she hadn’t complied. Serenity put her rucksack over her shoulder and held on to her duffel bag with her left hand. The rucksack was fairly light, but her duffel bag was full and heavy. What Kyler had packed for her was unknown, but it felt like he got everything. Even if he had missed a couple of things, this was no issue; she didn’t possess any prized possessions. Or much at all. Just clothing, rarely any jewelry, three pairs of shoes, etc.

  A man who was presumably the recipient was seated at the front desk. He was watching a poor-quality drama on a diminutive, antiquated television. Before they entered the building, which smelled strangely of grass, only the low droning of the television was audible. The plump man, who looked to be his mid-thirties with a patchy beard, double-chin, and abnormally large nose, noticed as they approached them and jumped in shock. He had been half-asleep, chin resting on hand.

  “Visitors? At this hour?” he grunted. “It ain’t even summer.”

  “Two rooms, two beds each,” Desmos said, taking out his wallet.

  “All right, can I see some ID?” the recipient asked, wiping his crusty eyes.

  Desmos took his driver’s license out of his wallet and slid it over. As the man was checking them in, Serenity looked around at the lobby quietly. The furniture was randomly scattered and the walls were worn out. Also, the lights were dimmed, strobing and clearly reaching the final stages of their lifespan. Agno shook his head, disgruntled, as he inspected the floor. She never understood why Agno complained, considering they had slept and lived in some of the most vile, inhospitable places imaginable.

  “So, where you boys headed?” the man asked casually.

  “None of your concern,” Desmos replied curtly.

  The recipient looked up at Desmos, slightly irked at his brusque tone. He then looked around at everyone else suspiciously. This motel evidently did not get many guests, even during daylight hours. It was only until his eyes landed on Serenity did the man’s suspicion heighten. He gulped, looking anxiously at her face and clothing which had not yet been washed. She had not changed; dried blood still stained her clothes and smeared her face. On top of it all, the wretched expression on her face supplemented the shadiness of the scene. The recipient took another look at each one of them, presumably registering in his head that there was one helpless female with five intimidating males.

  “Umm…ma’am, are you okay?” he asked apprehensively.

  Serenity merely nodded, still unwilling to speak.

  “You mind speeding it up?” Desmos asked impatiently.

  “R-Rooms 124 and 125,” the man stammered, handing Desmos the keycards without looking at him. “Young girl, if you need help, I can—”

  “She’s fine,” Desmos interjected, offhand. “Thank you.”

  The recipient watched them go, muttering under his breath. They exited the lobby and walked outside. She embraced herself, only now realizing how chilly it was tonight. Their rooms were side by side on ground level. It didn’t take long deciding who would stay with each other. The eldest three in one room, the youngest three in the other. After being strongly advised by Desmos to take a shower and change, Serenity followed Kyler and Cackle inside. They set their bags down and looked around; it was the typical motel room, with a TV, two beds, a couch, and a bathroom.

  “I get my own bed,” Cackle declared. “Who wants to fight for it?”

  “I would, but I think she’d rather sleep on the floor than next to you,” Kyler said. “I’ll take the couch.”

  After taking off her shoes, Serenity zipped open her duffel bag. She took out a pair of gray sweat shorts and a black T-shirt to change into and sleep in. She then went into the bathroom and locked it. She switched on the light and looked at h
erself in the mirror; this was the first time seeing herself in quite a while, and it was utterly shocking.

  Apart from all the blood, her face was tear-streaked, and her eyes were dead with shadows under it. Her makeup was disheveled with smudged, smeared mascara. A shower was definitely what she needed.

  After an hour, she stepped out of the bathroom fully clothed and dry, hair included. The shower was invigorating. The lights in the room were turned off. Cackle was fast asleep, snoring lightly. Serenity climbed into her bed and pulled the sheets and blanket over her body. She sighed, massaging her head, turning to the right for comfort. Kyler was lying down on the couch next to her bed, awake, with no blankets or sheets. His head was rested on a pillow and his eyes were open. Kyler was either an insomniac or simply refused to sleep.

  “Aren’t you cold?” she murmured.

  “I don’t get cold,” Kyler responded quietly. “You still sad or what?”

  She thought for a moment, wondering if she was.

  “I’m not sure…a part of me wants to talk about it, but another wants me to just shut up and take it all in…”

  “Before you start asking questions, wait till the morning,” said Kyler. “Because I’m sure you have thousands of them.”

  “Can you guarantee I get answers…?” she asked.

  “I think you deserve them,” Kyler said. “Get some rest.”

  This was all the confirmation she needed. Serenity rolled over to a more comfortable position and closed her eyes. She tried her best to clear her mind and lock her emotions; reliving the last couple hours would do her no good. It was a blur of tempestuous disaster and tragedy that only stirred up anger and grief. Slumber consumed her promptly, as a result.

  Rubble and debris overspread every inch of the vicinity. Melted stone and wood, burned in cinder and ember, decorated all four corners of the site. Serenity traipsed through the wreckage, fatigued and perplexed. Fire continued to thrive, sprawled sporadically throughout the area. The night sky was obscured by pummels of black smoke, blocking even the light shimmering from the moon. The air tasted of death and slaughter, filling her lungs with an acrid scent. Corpses burnt to ash were scattered as far as the eye could see. Her eyes roved until they came to a halt, noticing a familiar face; this person approached her, emerging from the smoke, limping. Her right leg was wounded, but her face was filthy with ash and dirt.All of a sudden, the scene began to transform. It was as if time was rewinding; the wreckage was reversing and repairing itself in a phantasmagoric blur. The flames were being extinguished and the rubble cleared from the ground. Serenity looked around in alarm as all the changes occurring manifested into something familiar: a mansion. Amara stood by the entrance of the house, in an equally familiar setting. Serenity watched in dread, well aware what was about to happen next. In a catastrophic bang, the house went up in flames. Except it happened in slow motion. She watched, in detail, as Amara vanished into matter, consumed by the fire. Her skin slowly deteriorated and melted as the flesh vanquished from her bones, transforming her into a mere skeleton for a few seconds. A half-second later, the skeleton also evaporated. Serenity wailed uncontrollably, unable to view this any longer.