Free Web NovelChapter 40: The Foundation Of Truth Is Blood
ADRIEN’S POV
I can’t believe I cried.
I didn’t just tear up or get a little emotional. No, I stood there shaking and weeping because I thought that bastard was going to hit me. It was a full-on breakdown caused by panic.
Like some poor Victorian orphan who got punished with no meat in his dinner.
God, it was pathetic.
I keep replaying it in my head, and every single time I want to crawl into the nearest manhole and seal it shut behind me. I should’ve handled it better. I could’ve stood my ground or something.
I should’ve gritted my teeth, clenched my jaw, and stared him down like the grown man I am.
Instead, my mind decided to drag up every ugly memory I could find and throw it directly into the present. My hands started shaking, my eyes burned, and in no time, I was crying.
Crying like a child. Over a threat of all things.
He probably wasn’t even going to get physical with me. I think. If Orion wanted to beat the shit out of me, he definitely has more reasons to do so, rather than doing it because I offered him a blow job.
I know I’ve given him better reasons to hurt me than trying to blow him.
But knowing that now, doesn’t make it any less humiliating.
I hate that he got to see that. I hate that he got to see me so scared. I hate that, he had that power over me, even if it was just for a few moments.
The memory alone makes me want to bury myself alive. Or him. It’s so intense that I genuinely want to disappear. I want to dig a really small hole, then throw myself in it and let the earth reclaim me.
Or I could just bury Orion instead. That sounds more appealing.
Either way, somebody has to go, and I refuse to let it be me.
"After what that bastard said to me, I’ll do my best to teach him how to appreciate the goodness of peace."
"Though, I now regret not taking enough time to teach your best friend about all the things I appreciate about you."
I prepared this bath to my liking just so I could cool down and not do anything irrational, but that lunatic’s words just keep playing in my head.
Is he saying he killed him because of me? Or for me?
"He’s just toying with your mind, Adrien. Don’t let it get to you. You must not listen to him. Don’t even think about— "
My phone rings.
Which is good because it drags me out of whatever hole I was spiraling into, and which is also weird because it hasn’t rang since Orion put this ring on my finger.
The only people I’ve called are my landlords to let them know that I would be leaving for a while, and the phone I used to call has been confiscated by Orion because he wanted us to get matching phones.
Yes, it is as insanely petty as it sounds.
The phone keeps on ringing while I stare at it like a bomb ticking. I have no numbers saved, so I don’t even know who’s calling me.
What I do know is that I don’t want to speak to Orion, and neither do I want to speak to anyone else involved with him.
But the phone just won’t stop ringing.
And I, Adrien Dubois, am not a pussy. So, I pick.
"Duckling— "
I cut the call immediately. I said I’d pick, not that I would stay on the call. Besides, it would be awkward to speak to him. He watched me cry for god’s sake.
The phone rings again. It feels more ominous this time.
I refuse to pick that call.
I pull myself out of the bath, only because the water has gotten cold, and dry myself off with a towel. The ringing of the phone becomes background noise.
"When will I finally get a beard? I’m twenty-four and I have no facial hair...why?"
I look at the bathroom mirror and I see— for lack of a better word— a twink. I, Adrien Dubois, look like a very clean twink.
I run a hand down my face with a sigh. "How is this my life? Why can’t my hormones be on whatever shit Orion’s are on?"
What would it take for me to become a buff, six feet four inches tall man with hands like a fucking bear and feet as long as my head?
If I were that physically imposing, I guess I’d like looking down on people and beating the shit out of them too. Maybe I’d be able to kill people with my bare hands like he does?
Instead, I feel like an actor in a very bad gay porno. The twink to be exact. The one who gets railed and keeps shouting ’stop’ ’no’ ’please’ while crying like a kitten.
There it is again. The tears.
This shit is going to follow me around like some kind of trauma, and I’ll never be able to let go of it, because—
"I’ve called you twenty-six times, Adrien. Not only did you cut the call on me, you also refused to pick up the phone, so you can only blame yourself for what comes next."
Twenty-six times? Has the phone been ringing for that long? I didn’t even realize. Shit. I’m fucked.
He called me by my name. He’s pissed.
Then, as if by magic, the phone rings again. This time, I let my towel fall to the ground as I dive to grab it and pick up the call.
"Why don’t you calm down for a second! It’s not what you think— "
"A-Adrien."
Instead of hearing that agitating voice I’ve come to despise, a woman’s shaky voice echoes in my ear. I know this voice.
"Anna? Is that really you?"
Anna is my hairstylist. She’s the one who dragged me into her shop for a free haircut and made me fall in love with my stupid face again.
She’s a rude, loud, and sarcastic bitch whom I buy chocolate for with my meager salary every time I go for a new cut, because Anna likes chocolate, and I like Anna.
A tightness I didn’t even know I had in my chest, loosens. God, I’ve missed her.
"Adrien, I...It’s me."
She must be pissed I haven’t come in for a cut yet. Damn Anna and heckling her customers like baby chicks. I’m going to have to dig an explanation out of my ass.
"Look, I know you must be angry, but I have a reasonable explanation for this, Anna. You see— "
"Adrien, you— "
If I let her finish that statement, I’ll have to wash my ears with bleach. I just know it. Anna’s potty mouth is legendary. It’s brought men stronger than me to tears.
I think she might be able to counter Orion if it’s for her mouth alone.
"I swear it’s a work thing! I would’ve come for a cut but I’ve been so busy, it’s like time has just been running from me, you know? So, please don’t be mad."
"Adrien, he said— " fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
"And I’ll buy you a lot of chocolates when I come in, and we’ll... wait, did you just say he?"
Who is he? Anna is a lesbian. She’s so gay, it hurts to look at her. She’s like a walking rainbow.
Wait a minute. How did she get this number? Orion just got me this phone, and I haven’t transferred my contacts from the last one because that lunatic won’t even let me touch it. So how?
The line is silent for a minute, then she speaks again.
"A-Adrien..."
Anna, the raving bitch that I know would never sound this quiet. She should be hounding me for missing my appointments and trying to extort chocolate from me, not whispering over the phone.
Something isn’t right.
"Anna, is there something going on over— "
"Adrien, h-he said I should tell you..." Her voice trembles. A shaky breath catches in her throat. "He said you should never forget the truth of your existence."
A gunshot detonates through the phone.
The sound is so close to the receiver that it feels as though the muzzle was pressed against my own ear. I jerk back instinctively.
It’s silent. Not the silence of a disconnected call, because the connection is still there. It’s just silent. Heavy, suffocating silence.
On one end, there is me, and on the other end, there is the person who just put a bullet through Anna’s skull. Neither of us speaks.
I know she’s dead. The certainty settles into my chest with the weight of a tombstone. For the second time in a single week, tears spill down my face.
Hot, bitter tears. I don’t bother wiping them away.
My hand on the phone tightens, while my other hand curls into a fist. A fist so tight, my nails bite through my skin. Warm blood trickles between my fingers and drips onto the marble tiles.
Anna is dead. They killed Anna. The words repeat in my head, over and over again, each repetition driving the knife deeper.
Anna is dead. Another friend gone.
The word that falls from my lips sounds like a cross between a growl and a curse.
"MASAMUNE!"
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