Haunted Art
1112 Words
Derek's POV
I swiped through the files on my laptop, the glow of the screen the only light in my room. Aish, this photographer is a total hack. I pay him enough to buy a house, and he can’t even get the angle right?
I stared at a shot of Gabriel at the stables. He was mid flinch, his shoulders hunched, eyes wide with that pathetic, beautiful terror. The lighting was garbage. It didn't capture the way his skin looked like translucent porcelain under the sun. It didn't show the way he looked like he was about to snap in half.
I leaned back, taking a slow sip of the amber liquid in my glass. Gabriel. My little scholarship charity case. My stepbrother.
He was a fascinating specimen. I have broken guys before who dared annoyed me, athletes, loudmouths, rich pricks. I usually just use my fists or my father’s influence and call it a day. But Gabriel? He was different. He was soft. He was high quality silk that I wanted to shred with my bare hands just to see the threads come apart.
Every time I touched him, every time I felt that frantic, bird like heartbeat against my skin, it was like a drug.
He was mine. My own private toy.
My phone buzzed, vibrating against the mahogany desk like an annoying insect.
Connor.
"What?" I barked into my phone.
"Derek! Man, where the hell are you?" Connor’s voice was drowned out by the thumping bass of some club music.
"The party is getting started. Everyone’s asking for the you.. If you’re not here in thirty minutes, the crowd is going to die. Get your ass down here."
"I am bored of parties, Connor," I said, swirling the ice in my glass.
"Then bring that little toy in your house! Your step brother apparently. The news is everywhere, man. Can't believe your Popsi is marrying that ducklings mum. Anyway you can bring him along, let's play with him."
I cut the call without answering. A party. Usually, I would be there, standing in the VIP section, letting girls and guys throw themselves at me while I looked down my nose at them. But right now? I wanted to see what my little brother was doing. I wanted to see if he was still shaking from the shooting range. Or should I take him to the party?
I walked to his room. I grabbed the handle and twisted.
It didn't budge.
Locked.
The ice in my veins turned to boiling lava. He locked me out? In my own house? In my own wing?
I hammered on the wood, the sound echoing like gunshots through the hallway.
"Gabriel! Open this door before I kick I break it down!"
A few seconds of silence, then the sound of the bolt sliding back. The door creaked open, and there he was. He looked like a mess. His hair was ruffled, his glasses were crooked, and he was wearing those oversized pajamas that made him look even smaller than he actually was.
"Derek... I am..."
"Since when do you lock your door?" I shoved past him, my shoulder catching his chest and sending him stumbling back.
"I told you, Gabe. Everything in this house belongs to me. That includes your privacy."
I scanned the room, looking for something to break, something to use to remind him who was in charge. Then I saw it. The easel in the corner.
"What the hell is this?"
I walked over to the drawing. I expected flowers. I expected some nerdy history map or a sketch of a library. But as I looked at the paper, my breath hitched in my throat.
It was dark. Brutally dark. A man lay dead on a dry, cracked earth, and a flock of hawks was tearing into his chest, their beaks dripping with charcoal smudged blood. It wasn't just a drawing, it was a scream. It was raw, professional, and terrifying.
"What the f**k, Gabe?" I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. "You possessed? This is some sick s**t. Even for a freak like you."
Gabriel looked at the floor, his fingers twisting together. "It’s... it’s just a study. On... on the cycle of life."
"Cycle of life my ass," I hissed, walking closer to him until he was pinned between me and the easel. "This is how you see the world, isn't it? Something dead being eaten alive."
I looked from the drawing back to his face. For the first time, I didn't see just a victim. I saw a mirror. There was a darkness in him, a deep, jagged pit that looked exactly like mine. He wasn't just some innocent nerd. He was a monster in hiding. And that made me want him even more.
"I was going to stay here and finish my drink," I whispered, my voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone. I reached out, my fingers gripping his chin and forcing him to look at me.
"But you are getting too comfortable in this room. You are starting to think you have freedom here."
"Derek, please... I just want to finish my work."
"Your work is over," I snapped. I felt a surge of possessive energy. I wasn't leaving him here to drown in his own dark thoughts. If anyone was going to drown him, it was going to be me.
"Get dressed. Now."
"W...what? Where?"
"Connor’s party. I am tired of looking at these hawks." I leaned in until my nose brushed against his, smelling the ink and the faint, sweet scent of his soap.
"Don't wear a bright color. Wear something black. Something that matches that twisted mind of yours. Beside I want you invisible. You are coming with me, and you are going to sit by my side while I show you exactly what happens to things that aren't strong enough to fight for themselves."
"That life is not for me, I don't even belong here," he whispered, his eyes glassing over with tears already.
"You belong wherever I put you, Gabriel," I said, letting go of his chin and heading for the door. "Such a cry baby."
"Five minutes. If you are not in the car, I am coming back up here, and I promise you, what I will do to you will be much worse than what those hawks are doing to that man."
I walked out, my blood humming. The party was going to be a disaster. Gabriel was going to be terrified. And I couldn't wait to watch every second of it. He was my favorite piece of art, and it was time to put him on display.
- Writer
