*Ten years later*
"Are you done back there? You have these boxes here as well, and that's not to mention the load we'll be getting later tomorrow, so get to it!" A loud and disgruntled voice echoed through a retail store; the target of the store, a twenty-year-old Kevin, now dressed in a retail uniform.
A blue shirt with white stripes and navy trousers. "Understood!" His response was quick as he stacked boxes on their appropriate shelves. 'I can't believe that this guy is working me like this, with how trash the pay is! Seriously, if not for the money, I would have already quit this job!' He cursed the owner of the store in his mind as he bent over and picked up a box and put it on its shelf.
The supposed back was a narrow room with boxes labeled all over; it served more as a claustrophobic hallway rather than an actual store. The paint on the walls already coming off, and yet the owner didn't bother changing it with the excuse of cost. 'That's the last one!' Sighing inwardly, he made his way to the front where the owner was serving a customer.
"Hold on, I got a call, he'll serve you!" The owner, a man in his thirties, hastily brushed past Kevin as he rushed to his office, which was right at the back, a room twice the size of the warehouse. He had a potbelly that was barely held on by his shirt, his face shaven with a feisty air to him. He was the kind of man who seemed to get into an argument over the most trivial of reasons.
"Hello, how can I help you?" Kevin asked with a worn-out edge to his tone. "How do you expect to serve customers with a tone like that?!" His customer, a lady in his sixties, her gray hair in a messy bun and her dress crumpled with small tears visible, possibly from cats. "Let me guess, another pack, right, Sheryl?" Kevin didn't bother changing his attitude as he looked at the lady.
"If you know why I'm here, then why are you bothering me with annoying pleasantries? Give me my pack already!" Kevin reached to the back of the wall where a collection of cigarette packs was put on display. The transaction between the two quick before the lady took his leave. 'What an annoying bitch, seriously, a person of her age smoking her remaining life away.'
He commented in his mind before a voice echoed. "Are you any different, Kevin?" A vague silhouette came into his view, revealing to be Trevor. He had thought that it would pass, but as time went on, it only got worse. He had tried explaining it to others, but to no avail.
His sister wasn't exactly available, and his mother was busy with work. The times he would get to talk with her seemed to temporarily solve the problem before it resurfaced once more. Therapy was a waste of time, and before he knew it, he was twenty years old and, similar to most in his age group, he direly needed cash.
"When will you tell her you spent the money that you make on junk?" The voice went on, his voice monotone as Trevor made casual yet measured steps closer to him on the counter. His figure was still that of the nine-year-old from back then; however, this time he had nails similar to the image that had haunted Kevin till now.
His orbits pinned with rusted and bloodied nails, his palms etched with two gaping holes which were present on his feet as well. He kept on walking until he was right on the counter, his eyes glassy yet unblinking. "Your selfishness never ceases. You force me to go to that abominable place just to instill your control over me, and now you use substances to escape the truth that is in front of you. How pathetic."
Trevor's jaw tightened, his fists curled into balls as he seemed on the verge of punching the miniature Trevor. "Restless as ever, now look at what it cost you!" Enough with the taunts, Kevin cupped his face with his hands as he sank onto the floor. "I'm sorry, I don't know how many times you want me to say it, but I'm sorry!" His chest already heaving, but before he could go on with his episodic nightmare, a voice brought him back. "Kid! What are you doing on the floor if not cleaning? We have customers to be served, and here you are. Maybe this job is too much for you."
Reece had a look of exasperation as he took a long look at Kevin; this wasn't his first time seeing Kevin like this, and it bothered him. 'What do you mean too much?! It's managing a fucking register!' Kevin shouted inwardly as he brought himself to his feet.
"I understand, boss; it won't happen again." Words neither dared to believe as Kevin dusted off his pants. "Go home if you're not feeling well; it won't be deducted from your pay." Kevin paused, feeling the remorse from Reece before taking off his work clothes and leaving the store.
*Clatter*
A trash can was sent tumbling to the side, Kevin fuming as he gnashed his teeth. "I can't believe that he sees me as someone who just breaks like that. Like a coward!" A voice didn't hesitate. "But you are, you are to them." Kevin kept on walking, ignoring the baffled stares shot at him. "You know what, this is your fault. How many times do you want me to keep apologizing? Do you want to see me drop dead?! Is that it?!"
Trevor didn't respond, quietly trailing Kevin as he opened the door to his home. The neighbourhood he had grown up in shifted in front of his very eyes; the picket fences were now gone because of vandalism or rotting from those who didn't bother with the upkeep. His old neighbors seemed to have moved, and the quality of the street went with them.
Crime was the norm, fading graffiti plastered on the fences that were still holding up, and yards now barren or present with patches of dried-up grass. The house was empty, something he was accustomed to as he made his way to the couch and effortlessly crashed onto it, reaching for the remote and turning on the television.
"Do you want me to leave?" Trevor's ghost inquired. "Yes! At this point, with how you fucking pester me, it's annoying. Sometimes I wonder why you're still here. If it's to make my life hell, then you've been doing a bang-up job." Without another word, Trevor made his way to the door, but now the air around him felt heavier than usual, his tone deathly grim. "I hope you can handle what you wish for."
Trevor mindlessly showed his middle finger at the door.
*Ding*
[{Mom: I'll be home in ten minutes}]
"Hahh…" A sigh of discomfort escaped Kevin's lips as he forced himself to stand up. 'She doesn't like when the dishes aren't clean and my sister couldn't be bothered to clean before leaving.' The sound of water and crockery echoed in the kitchen, Kevin moving with his mind lost in thought. He recalled the time when Trevor's manifestation first emerged. He had been scared silly, thinking that it had come to collect his soul.
However, it didn't bother talking at first, which unnerved him before it finally spoke. It's antagonizing quickly grew into a head for Kevin. It's words which would fill Kevin with guilt slowly filled him with apathy which later devolved into rage. He wasn't sure when it would leave, which was something he didn't like thinking about, as in a way he saw him rejecting Trevor. 'Why did I antagonize him so much, and why didn't Andrew stop me back then?!'
With his hands still wet from the water after he was done, he was about to head upstairs before the doorbell stopped him. He thought little of it as he approached the door, but the image of his mother holding grocery bags wasn't something that he saw. It was a figure he thought he wouldn't see. Subconsciously taking steps back, he muttered the name of the figure in front of him. "A... Andrew?"
His brows raised, his heart racing as he stared at the boy, now a man he thought was long dead at that accursed mansion. "Is this what Trevor meant by being careful?" Andrew looked at Kevin, the same kid who had tried to protect him back then, but something was noticeably different about him.
His eyes were still obsidian and his jet-black hair now long, reaching his shoulder blades, but the surrounding air was too still, as if what was presented to Kevin wasn't a human being but a statue. "You-Are you real?!!" Andrew didn't answer as he took light steps into the house, the air around him calm as a millpond. "Hello Kevin." His words calm as if he had merely left to get something at the store rather than vanish for ten years.
Stepping closer, Kevin approached Andrew and touched his face. It was soft, with no blemishes. "Wait! Your leg!" As if recalling, he looked at Andrew's leg, which was now strangely fine. He was dressed in a dark trench coat, similar to the one the killer from back then had worn, with dusty sandals that seemed to fall apart at any moment.
'Is this related to what Trevor told me?' Kevin's head spun, still perplexed by the return of Andrew at his door. "ANDREW?!" A startled voice echoed from Andrew's back, revealed to be Clara.
*Thud*
Her bags fell onto the concrete pavement, and the contents spilled onto the road. "Yes." Andrew replied coolly as he turned around to face Clara. "How-What!?" Clara approached him with caution similar to approaching a beast in the wild before she touched his face, her eyes taking in his facial features before scanning down.
"Come on in." Clara's throat was dry; the shock still numbed her mind. Andrew glanced behind her at the bags, making Clara realize what she had done. "I'll buy others, just come inside."
. . .
Andrew glanced at the two figures across from him, now showered and wearing Kevin's clothes. A white t-shirt and black sweatpants. "I have so many questions! How did you survive? What happened?!" Clara burst into a frenzy of questions while Kevin was at a loss for words. "After Kevin was knocked out, the man knocked me out as well, and by the time I woke up, I was in a van, tied up and muffled."
He paused, a brief gap of silence settling in the air before going on with his words. "From there I woke up in a huge warehouse with other kids and bright lights all over. It looked like a huge sand area, like a fighting arena, and we were forced into fighting each other and given weapons."
Clara muffled her mouth with her hands while Kevin looked to the side, the pent-up rage now shifting back into something he knew all too well: guilt. "That's horrible." Clara whispered as if scared of upsetting Andrew. From there, we played more games; some involved fighting dogs, others involved fighting each other, and we also played games like solving puzzles. I can't remember much because they periodically administered something to us, a drug I'm sure.
"Mom, I'm home. I hope you've already started to cook because I'm famished!" Lara, Kevin's older sister, barged in without a care before the weight of the room hit her. "Is that… Andrew?!" Grasping the situation, she quietly made her way to a seat next to her mother. "Oh, I'm so sorry that you had to go through such a thing. Rest up for now, I'll get started on dinner."
Clara rose to her feet and reached for her handbag before leaving. "I…Andrew, I honestly thought that you died." Lara's words were met with a glare from Kevin. "Look, I've got a story to tell you. How about a trip around the block to let you catch up?" Kevin suggested as he rose to his feet.