Work Text:
A glass of cheap wine resolved on the counter, too tall for the boy to attain. But even so, the persistent boy leapt and reached. Eventually, the grunting boy's body clutched against the edge, his hand reaching towards the wine. A door opened abruptly, the boy was startled. He'd slipped, spilling wine in hand. He was filled with anguish as his body crashed against the floor, glass shattering everywhere. It created a blood-red pond.
His heart couldn't stop thumping.
Ba-dump,
Ba-dump,
Ba-dump.
The boy lay bloodied and bruised, his vision blackening. His body agonized, incapable of movement. He focused on the blood oozing from his head into the cracks of floorboards. It was slow, satisfying. He'd created a wine-red pond.
Footsteps arose distantly from the kitchen, He could hear the doorframe creak as the body leaned against it. His unnerving presence could alone kill Noam, his heartbeat was echoing through his ears. Ice cubes clinked against the glass of presumed scotch. the man swallowed then sighed.
"All this.." Lehrer strode towards Noam, "is your fault." Noam breathed in through his blood congested nose, striving to surpass tears. "I hadn't instructed you to be so incompetent."
Noam let out a quivered breath, then began to cry. And Lehrer, he chuckled.
Noam didn't worry looking upon him, he already knew what appearance he'd taken. Noam knew he'd have precise posture, as always. His face was apathetic, and his eyes, those eyes could annihilate him alone. But to Noam's dismay, it appeared Lehrer wanted him to look. He heard the clanking of a glass, then he'd crouched down beside Noam, reaching his pale fingers to his chin and pressing in hard. His fingers were wet with tears. Lehrer turned Noam's head, he was correct. Lehrer was emotionless, but his next words would be like lemon & lime.
"You're terrible, Noam" he stated, emphasising the t with force. His name didn't fit well on his tongue, he thought. "This whole time, during the Shabbat dinners I prepared, provided in my prosperity," he exclaimed. "You were plotting my murder" Lehrer hissed, quieter now. Noam couldn't even deny any of it, he was right. All he could do was whimper, Lehrer was right.
Noam was terrible. Awful, vile, absolutely horrendous. All those cruel words combined and more. He couldn't reject the fact, everyone else said the same. He killed his mother and then his father and then Brennen, the nearest thing to family he'd had. Noam concluded that wasn't sufficient enough, so he nearly had Dara killed too, and all those other dozen who swivelled to nothing but bone. He and Lehrer were two peas in a pod, Lehrer even reckoned he was worse.
Lehrer got back up and wandered away. Noam's chin still ached, now reddened. Wolf was hidden under the table, back arched and tail between trembling legs. Lehrer halted at the vinyl player, pulling out a disk. "Covering up your murder will be no task, gratitude given towards your little organization." No, no, no. Noam heavily wailed, huffing unsteady gusts.
Lehrer gently pressed the desk onto the vinyl, dragging down the needle. The record player made a scratching sound and commenced its tune. Lehrer hummed along, making his way back towards his scotch. The man took another big gulp, then announced, "Let's begin" through gleaming lips.
His heart couldn't stop thumping,
Ba-dump,
Ba-dump,
Ba-dump.
Until it never would again.