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Poison
The screams echoed through my ears, the hope had drained from me long ago. The pain had struck every part of his body so far. Dominic didn’t think it could get much worse. He had listened to the torturous screams coming from Clark and other children as they begged them to stop. There couldn’t be much more mentally disturbing things they could force upon him.
As he laid down in the pile of dirt, his tattered shirt sank deeper into his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full days rest or a full stomach for that matter. He missed his mother, and yet, Jet seemed to have filled him with so much anger that it didn’t hurt as much.
Dominic wiped the blood from his lip and fought hard to keep from breaking down. It had already happened bunches of times before then, but he hated it every single time.
The blood still flowed freely. The Blaque Ring didn’t bother healing or stitching his wounds.
Jet destroyed him. Before him, Dominic could see the good in people, he could pray that all be happy, but now all he wanted to do was wish for their deaths.
The metal barred door swung open. They had kept Dominic in a caged like an animal. They made him beg them to stop the pain; they forced him to become something he wasn’t! They forced him to become a savage.
Jet peered down at him with a slight smirk. It’d been about two weeks since he’d seen him last. Now all he wanted to do was strangle him. The visions of blood spilling out his mouth as Dominic kept stabbing filled his mind happily.
But those were just of a fantasy world. Dominic would never be strong enough to murder this man. He would never be able to move past the fear of becoming him.
Jet pulled him up by whatever was left of his shirt, staring him in the eyes. Dominic couldn’t decide whether or not he would shoot the man or choke him when he regained the strength. That detail seemed to elude him.
“You’ve come so far, Dominic. I wasn’t sure if there was anything in you worth saving, but it seems like father like son.” He said.
Dominic’s heart lurched with fury against his chest. If Dominic had been in full health, he would’ve punched him, but he wasn’t. He was weak. He’d been told that many times and knew it was true. They expected him to finally give in to them and it seemed as though they had succeeded.
The fear they drove into him had even reached deep down into the depths of his mind. When he looked up fear in the dictionary of his brain, there was a picture of Jet.
“They’ve worked you quite well. Now it is time for you to finally become one of us. You’ve been assigned your first mission.” He confessed.
He took a deep breath hoping that he hadn’t heard him right. He would never be one of them. He was not a member of the Blaque Ring. He wouldn’t stoop to their levels.
Tears filled his eyes, tears of frustration. The tears he had been holding in these past few weeks.
He lurched at Jet, his right hand gripping around that neck. He felt the adrenaline flow through his body. He hadn’t felt this angry in a long time. Not since they’d made him listen to Clark’s screams.
Jet’s eyes burned with an icy fire, shoving him against the cold brick wall behind him, keeping him there.
“You’re here whether you like it or not, Dominic. You are staying here and you will become a disciple, my disciple!” He shouted.
The venom in his voice almost threw Dominic off, almost. Jet squeezed his shoulder, the pain shooting through him like pins.
“I am your father and there will be obedience.” He spat.
With that, he released Dominic and calmed himself. The anger disappeared almost instantly. Almost as though someone had wiped it off his face.
“I’m leaving. Tomorrow is the big day, so you’d better not disappoint.” He growled, pulling the door shut behind him.
Dominic gulped, collapsing to the ground. What could he possibly have to do tomorrow? Could they really force him to do something so sinister?
He pulled his knees in, cradling himself as the realization of what he had become hit him. He was a monster. He was his father’s kid.
With that thought, he rolled over and cried like a baby for what seemed like years.
“No, no! I won’t do it! I won’t kill another person!” Dominic yelled at the top of his lungs. His head was throbbing from all the fury that had penetrated him a few minutes before.
“That is your duty. You are no longer free, Dominic. You are my son and that means you will do whatever the Blaque Ring demands of you.” Jet argued.
He shoved the vial in Dominic’s hands. He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw, forcing the anger inside. This environment had shoved something deep out inside of him. The dark evil thoughts that tempted him were out on the surface. They had indeed broken him.
Dominic glanced down at the ghastly looking liquid. Poison. They wanted him to poison this young man. The young man that dressed in brightly colored clothes. He looked so pleasant. Someone that Dominic would want to be friends with, but yet, he was destined to kill him.
He furrowed his brows, frowning at what he must do. The fiery embers had been distinguished.
“If you don’t maybe we’ll just send some other candidate after Clark. Maybe you could watch his execution.” Jet threatened.
Dominic clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. He could feel the blood already dripping from his wound.
His eyes shot up at Jet, glaring down into his soul. He felt weak, helpless. They were right. He was weak.
“I hate you, Jet. I hate you! I wish I’d never been born!” he yelled.
The pain of what he was about to do, ached. It was a dull pain in the overflow of emotions he already had. They had already flipped over, crashing into every other thought process he had. They had penetrated everything.
Jet pointed to the table where the man sat at, waiting for him. He wasn’t expecting to be poisoned. He was supposed to be there for a meeting.
“Now go,” he commanded.
Dominic quickly raced towards the man leaning back in his chair, and peering down at his watch. Once he approached, the man smiled.
His blonde, pulled back hair, made him a man of high class. His apparel said otherwise, a cheap linen dress shirt with dark black dress pants. He must’ve been a business investor for the Blaque Ring. He would never know that he was being betrayed right in front of his eyes.
“Hello, young man. I’ve been waiting for you for quite a while. A busy day, I presume?” the man greeted, holding out his hand.
Dominic frowned, glancing down at it. He didn’t deserve his handshake. He didn’t deserve his empathy. He was going to kill him!
“Is everything alright, son? You look a little pale.” He questioned, sitting up from his chair.
“Yeah, I mean, could you go get me something? Please?” Dominic begged.
The man nodded quickly, frowning before he left. Frowning, he reached across the table and dumped the powder into the glass that looked to be filled of sweet tea. He stirred the glass with the straw before returning to his place in the chair. A minute later, the man returned with a sprite and a churro.
He handed them to him with worry. Dominic quickly bit into the churro and waited for the man to sit down. Sweat dripped down the side of his head. Dominic quickly wiped the side of his face, waiting for the man to take a sip, quietly hoping that the man would leave before he swallowed the poison.
He didn’t want to see that. He didn’t want to see this painful death. He didn’t want to kill anyone.
“Boy, am I thirsty.” The man said, smirking at him. He watched as the man picked the glass up and put it to his lips. The smile never left his face when the light passed from his eyes, focusing on the sky above.
His body paralyzed, Dominic knew he would be there until his death and he was right. This time, for real, Dominic felt sick. He wanted to throw up, he needed to throw up. He needed to wipe his hands clean. He needed to get rid of the awful feeling.
He bent over, dropping to the ground and gagged as the acid rose up his throat. Tears formed in his eyes, he had just killed another human being.
He took a deep breath before throwing up all the contents of his stomach. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t know what they saw in him. Dominic was not a killer.
He felt a strong hand grip his shoulder, pulling him off the ground. He already knew who it was, but that didn’t stop any of the fury that erupted.
“He’s dead! He’s dead all because of you!” he shouted, pounding on Jet’s chest.
Jet grabbed his arms, pinning them behind his back calmly. How could he be so calm? He had just killed another person!
“No, Dominic. You killed him, it is because of you.” He replied, slowly.
He was right, Dominic killed him. Not Jet.
He dropped to his knees, no longer able to hold the tears back. They poured out, first the dark fiery ashes, then the lava. What were they turning him into?
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Part 3 of White Out