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Scorching Ascension - 1.65: Two and a half (Pt. 3) (Unedited)
🕑 Added 2025-01-21 03:41:04 +0000 UTCA/N: I didn't manage to wrap it up... one more chapter tomorrow or Wednesday I guess ( aka you'll be getting 4 chapter this week aside from this one. )
I'm kinda tired, but this backstory has been a long-time coming. Maybe I should move it somewhere else when I compile book 1, but I feel it's needed.
Cheers!
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Ethan turned away and began unpacking his notebooks without responding to the young man.
The hell is wrong with this guy?
He grit his teeth. The thought behind knocking before entering was fair, but the way he said it rubbed Ethan the wrong way. Who did this guy think he was?
Ethan’s hands itched. He wanted to hit something. Someone. But no. Just like Luther had said, it was better to keep the frustrations to the ring and not get himself into trouble. Already, his outbursts with the bullies in high-school had landed him in a group home. No need to make things worse.
Ethan breathed out slowly and didn’t turn when he heard the bed creak behind him.
Shower. Dinner. Homework. Stay out of trouble. That should be ea—
An arm wrapped around Ethan’s neck and dragged backward, digging into his throat.
Ethan reached up, alarmed and confused, and Ed spoke between his teeth. “I asked you something. Answer me.”
“What?” rasped Ethan. His heart hammered in his ears as he struggled to free himself, but Ed only tightened his grip.
“I told you to knock. You ignored me. That’s rude,” he whispered, tightening his grip even further to the point Ethan’s head began to swim, and an image wormed its way out of his nightmares.
The stench of alcohol. The image of his father ambling toward him and his mother. Eyes red. Knife glistening.
Ethan drove his elbow backward and felt it dig into Ed’s side. The teenager grunted, and the grip loosened. Ethan refrained from head-butting backward and instead, he drove his elbow backward again but this time an arm stopped the impact. Ethan shoved himself away, gripping at his throat as the air whistled through his windpipe.
Ed stumbled back, knocking a lantern at the edge of his bed and looked up. Two unblinking, icy-blue eyes narrowed at Ethan, teeth bared in a furious grin. and Ethan raised his fists, blood pumping in his ears.
The door opened up.
Clariss took in the scene, and Ethan’s heart dropped. He was about to explain that he’d been attacked, when Ed spoke. “Is it dinner-time, miss Shepard?”
The woman met Ed’s eyes for an instant, lingered on Ethan’s then nodded.
Ed smiled at her. “We’ll be right down, then. Thank you.”
Clariss blinked, and her gaze flicked toward Ethan for a moment, before she stepped back and closed the door.
Ethan’s fists were still raised, and his mouth hung open.
What?
“There are rules in this place. Politeness is one of them. I strongly suggest you get with the program, or you’ll find yourself in a place much worse than a group home,” said Ed, brushing down his clothes. He leaned to the side a bit, wincing at the pain in his side, and met Ethan’s gaze. “Let’s just call it even. And it’s time for dinner,” he said, and began stepping toward the door.
Ethan moved back, and the edge of the bed dug into his thighs, but he didn’t lower his guard. Ed continued to the door, opened it, and stepped out.
“You should wash your face. Your eyes are a bit red. And oh, keep all of this to yourself. Or I promise you, you’ll regret it.”
Ethan didn’t respond, still utterly confused at the nonsensical situation he was in. The door shut, but there was only one thought in his mind.
What the fuck?
***
As always, the high-school hallways were loud in the morning as Ethan made his way to his locker in a daze. His head hurts. He’d ended up staying up all night, unwilling to sleep that close to a potential threat.
What the hell is happening in that place?
Dinner had gone smoothly. There was a long, large table in the living room, and everyone had sat down and eaten quietly, including the two owners of the home, two helping-staff, and six kids. No one mentioned any altercations. No one said anything about what had happened in the room. Everyone just spoke a bit about their day and what they were up to for the rest of the week, and then everyone helped clearing out the table for homework.
Ethan already felt a lump in his throat at the thought of going back there. There was something going on in there, and the more oddities he noticed, the less he wanted to be there.
Should I tell Paul?
Could the counselor do anything? Ethan wasn’t confident in that. Especially considering Clariss had completely ignored what had been happening in the room. He had no proof, and Paul would just give him the same excuse as the last time Ethan had complained about a foster situation.
Should I snoop? Find proof?
There must be something going on. Why would Clariss just ignore one of her wards being violent? Clearly, it wasn’t new, considering Marvin’s reaction when the boy had shown Ethan to his room.
Ethan swallowed. It felt like there were ropes wrapping around his chest, restricting his breath.
What can I do?
“Fisher. You alright?”
Ethan looked up and found Luther frowning at him. The man had a spool of rope wrapped around his arm.
When did I get here?
Ethan shook his head. “Sorry. I-uh... I’m just tired.”
For a fraction of a second, Ethan considered mentioning the situation at home, but he didn’t want to create complications for himself. What could the coach do? No… he needed to think about things a bit more. He couldn’t be impulsive.
“Huh. Alright, I guess. Are you getting sick? If you’re sick you can leave, you know. Your voice’s a bit weird.”
Ethan’s throat tightened. He was looking forward to the wrestling club. To take his mind off things. He most certainly wasn’t ready to head back home, and when he said as much, Luther shrugged.
“Alright then, suit yourself. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”
***
The next night, Ethan barely rested. He’d tried to stay awake, but no matter how much he willed it, no matter how hard he resisted, he just couldn’t hold his eyes open anymore, which resulted in him frequently waking up startled, expecting to be attacked, and when the light of day began filtering through the window, he got up and went out, and after breakfast, he found a public phone and made a call.
“What do you mean by ‘weird’? We can’t initiate a transfer on a gut feeling, Ethan. Do you have proof? Is this just you not liking the new home?”
Ethan swallowed. He had no proof. Nothing. Maybe some of the other kids knew something, but he wasn’t guaranteed they’d say anything.
“Maybe there were complaints in the past? About Edwin Davis? I think he’s the source, but no, I don’t know of any proof. It’s just that it seems like… he’s getting away with a lot.”
There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, and Ethan felt his ears heat up. “Fine, Ethan. I’ll see what I can do.”
The line hung-up, and Ethan looked down at the beeping handset, then hooked it back in place and shoved the counselor’s card in his pocket.
He had a bad feeling about the call. Like he knew he’d just thrown a stone at a tiger, but he didn’t know what else he could do. Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.
A few days later, Paul showed up with another agent, and they went around the group home, inspecting it and talking with everyone, staff and kids included, after which they’d left.
That evening’s dinner was quieter than usual, but nothing happened. Not until the next day. Ethan had turned the corner, humming on his back from school, and blue light flashed into his eyes.
His steps faltered.
Red and blue lights alternated, lighting the neighborhood in pale and blaring lights. The police car was parked in front of the group home’s and out of the door came out a pair of grim policemen, dragging a crying teenager. Kevin, Ethan believed his name was.
“It’s not mine! I swear, please. Miss Shepard tell them, please.”
No one answered Kevin, and slowly but firmly, he was shoved in the back of the police car before being driven away. Ethan watched the car disappear around the corner, horror gnawing at his insides, and when he looked back at the group home, he found the door closed. The couple had seemingly gone back inside, as if they’d just taken some trash out.
An orphan no one cared about.
When he’d gone in, the mood was slightly grim, but everything else went on as always. Quiet dinners. Showers. Homeworks and when Ethan returned to his room, he found his bed occupied. Ed looked up and away from the smartphone in his hand, then picked up a cookie from a plate and bit into it. Ethan watched the crumbs fall down on his covers, and felt his breath pick up.
“You talked,” said Ed, still chewing. His hair was held back by a hair clip, and his face was as impassive as always.
Ethan tightened his jaw, and resisted from swallowing, no matter how dry his throat felt.
“No need to deny it. Paul’s your case manager, and you said something, so he came snooping. Even though I told you to keep quiet.”
“So what?”
Ed chewed, then brushed the crumbs off his blue jeans. Ethan watched them land over the carpet. “You have a choice to make. Either you get hauled off just like Kevin,” he said, getting up, and started to type on his phone.
Ethan waited, guts churning and he wondered. Was he bluffing? Or did he really do something that got Kevin in trouble? The thought of being dragged out toward a police station was terrifying. Ethan didn’t want to end up in juvie. He’d heard enough horror stories about such places.
Finally, Ed looked up from his phone, face lit up by the bright screen. “Or you do three tasks for me. No questions asked. And I mean none. And let me be clear this time; you do as you’re told, or you’re done. Work for me, and you can get your own room, and finish up your stay. I could even get Clariss to put in a good word for you. Get you back to a small foster gig.”
Ethan didn’t move. His thoughts felt both sluggish and frantic at once. “I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t get the cops to carry me away just like that.”
Ed smiled without showing his teeth, and Ethan hated how relaxed his eyes seemed.
“Sure. You’re innocent until you aren't. I guess you can try and see what happens. I’ll let you think it over. Sleep on it. ”
With that, Ed picked up his plate of sugar cookies and stepped toward the exit. He extended the plate for a second, but when Ethan didn’t reach for it, he shrugged and continued on.
“Three tasks. No questions asked. Then you get a room and a bed where you can actually sleep. Think about it.”
The door shut behind him, and Ethan felt the walls close in on him.
What do I do?
Comments
guillaume nguyen
Is this kid the head of the mafia ? Or, stronger possibility, he's a manipulative serial killer. That would explain why the house is so... clean.
