Crooked

Lyla Thomas was six years old when her parents tried to kill her. She was awoken in the middle of the night by the fear and hatred that swirled through her mother’s mind as she hovered above her sleeping child. Lyla’s screams woke her father, who stopped his wife just in time. He, too, was terrified by his little girl, by her uncanny ability to know things she shouldn’t know. But sitting by and letting the child be murdered was impossible for him. There had to be another way to get rid of this demon child. Lyla’s parents searched for months until they finally found Vic. He purchased Lyla from her parents for four-thousand dollars, and took her home to meet the rest of his children.

Vic had, at the time, only four others in his collection, and they were all special, just like Lyla. He showed her that she wasn’t alone, that others had her abilities as well, and that she would be at home here, with him, and with them. His children had all gotten to choose their own names; there was Gwen, with hair like corn silk and sparkling eyes; Elliot, the brainy and nervous one; James, who was quiet in a way that shook Lyla’s nerves; and there was Wesley, swift and snarky with charming wit, even as a child. Now Lyla got to choose a name of her own as well. She got to choose a new person to be, and had a new family to belong to. One that cared for her and didn’t think she was the spawn of Satan himself.

She became Kat that day and, a few years later, received the painful black mark on her wrist that all the children had. Wesley had stood next to her, gripping her other hand tightly. Hold tight to my hand, he’d whispered, and I will take some of the pain. When it was over, and Kat had thoroughly examined the reddened, raw skin of her thin wrist, Wesley brought her a salve that numbed the pain enough to ignore. She was eleven years old, and he was twelve, and if there was one thing Kat was certain of in the world, it was that Wesley was the love of her life. He, she was sure, was her one true match in the world. She would never find another whom she so loved like Wesley.

Vic taught them all, over time, how to utilize and control their abilities. As the years went by, Vic collected more and more children of all different ages, each with a special gift similar to Kat’s. As the children grew older, Vic became more aggressive, more abusive, more of a monster. He forced them all to do his bidding; stealing, murdering, blackmailing, torturing. Vic would wake up in the morning and choose the first thing that made his heart shudder, the first awful thing that he knew he’d want to see his children do. He manipulated them all, teased them, humiliated them, and threatened their lives in order to get them to do all that he asked. After so many years, they stopped arguing. They stopped asking questions, stopped wondering why, and simply carried out the tasks set before them.

The first time Kat would take another human life was just days after her sixteenth birthday. Things within their family had reached catastrophic levels of darkness, and there was rumor on the wind that they were to minimize their numbers and relocate. Kat’s only question was, how? Vic gathered all of his children together and pitted them against one another, explaining that only half of them would survive and move on to the next phase of their lives. He said that those who did not pass the test would die, without question, whether they liked it or not.

Wesley and James were the first to face off. Vic and the others surrounded them in a sloppy circle, watching the blood spray from their faces as they beat each other with fists sheathed in brass knuckles. Kat held her breath as she watched, silently hoping that Wesley would win, but feeling awful for wishing one of her closest friends, one of her brothers, would die.

Kat loved Wes, and whether he knew it or not she wasn’t sure. He had been there since her first day, and he’d been so sweet and supportive, even as a child. In their adolescence, Wesley changed, but remained sincere and kind, at least toward Kat. They had a bond that was indescribable, and the rest of the kids knew it. None of the others were surprised to see Kat kick the sharp lead pipe across the dirt and into Wesley’s reach when he was on his back, being pummeled in the face by James.

Wesley grabbed the pipe with both hands and shoved it through the chest of the other boy, watching the blood spill from James’ chest, the light leaving his eyes. He rolled his brother’s limp body off of him and stood, shakily, to leave him suffocating on the ground. He made his way, bruised and bleeding, to where Kat was standing, wrapped his hands around her face, and kissed her deeply. Her first kiss. Vic stared at them silently, a twisted smile on his ugly face.

Gwen and Elliot were the last to fight, after many others had killed each other, and Gwen took him down rather easily. Elliot had always been the weak link, the softie of the bunch, and Kat felt a deep aching when she watched him die. He was the one who deserved death the least. He was the one who deserved to escape this life.

When it was Kat’s turn, she huffed at the odd number. She had no opponent. Everyone else had already fought and was busy nursing their wounds. She stood staring at Vic, waiting for his instruction. She knew she hadn’t made it out that easily. He would make her do something terrible.

“Ahh, my little Kitty Kat,” he said with his snake-like voice. “You’re so special to me, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly.

“You might just be my favorite,” he grinned. His jagged teeth and dry, cracked lips made her stomach turn. She didn’t know why she obeyed such a disgusting, hateful man.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“So you get to choose.” His evil grin spread even wider and Kat feared that his lips would split open, spilling black blood onto his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she frowned, “I do not understand.”

“Choose,” Vic repeated. “Which one will you kill?” He gestured to her injured family behind her. “After all, I don’t enjoy odd numbers. It’s you, or one of them. Your choice.”

“If I don’t choose, you’ll kill me?”

“Oh no, of course not,” he snickered. “I’ll have Wesley kill you.” Kat looked to Wesley, his empty eyes lending no clue as to whether or not he would actually do it. He had never said no to Vic before.

Vic stood and moved toward her quickly, as if he were gliding. He stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, his breath hot on the back of her neck as he whispered to her.

“Catch a tiger by its toe,” he chuckled evilly. “Who’s it gonna be?”

Kat’s eyes swept over the small group in front of her, all young people that she’d grown to know and love as if they were her blood. She looked over at the pile of lifeless forms that, so recently, had been living and breathing, interacting with her and going on about their business, unaware that their lives were about to be taken.

She stared for a moment at Wes, knowing that she would never be able to kill him, even if Vic asked her to, but hoping that he would help her choose. She simply couldn’t make this decision. When Wesley’s eyes flickered quickly toward Gwen, Kat felt her stomach tighten into a ball. Gwen, the only other girl who’d survived, the only sister she would ever have, stood unknowingly bandaging the scrape on her left forearm. Immediately, Kat’s mind started working, finding every little detail about Gwen that she hated.

Her stupid blonde hair, the way she wore her pants high over her belly button, and the sound of her voice when she whined. That ugly, misshapen mole on her forehead, and the desperate way she always looked around after telling a dumb joke in hopes that someone would be smiling. And the way she lied, relentlessly, even though she was terrible at it. That was all Kat needed. Gwen, she decided, was a liar. She was stupid and obnoxious and she lied through her teeth, which made her expendable.

She approached the girl, tapping her on the shoulder before swinging her right fist into the side of Gwen’s face. Gwen stumbled, and Kat caught her by the shoulder, hitting her again. And again.

The next thing Kat knew, she was sitting on top of Gwen, legs on either side of her torso, bludgeoning her face as blood poured into her golden hair. Wesley grabbed her elbows, pulling them together behind her back, and lifted her off of Gwen’s lifeless body. Her face had been smashed, unrecognizable, and Vic stood nearby laughing maniacally, clapping.

Kat stared, expressionless, as two other survivors, Rex and Leo, dragged Gwen’s body to lie near the rest of the dead ones. A fire burned inside of her, and she didn’t know if it was sadness and regret or adrenaline and power.

Wes and Kat, along with the other survivors, followed Vic to their new home in the snowy mountain peaks where "no one would ever find them." For years, they pillaged and plundered like pirates on dry land, stealing what they wanted and killing anyone who stood in their way. They breezed through small towns, burning houses to the ground with families inside, firing rifles into groups of people as they tried to see who could kill more people with a single bullet. Their unique gift helped them go unnoticed and remain safe from investigators.

Wesley grew more and more ruthless as time went by. He was like Vic’s little lap dog after a while, and he stopped paying attention to Kat. He stopped kissing her, stopped making love to her, stopped telling her she was beautiful and important and special. He stopped caring about her and about anything else, aside from doing what he needed to do to please Vic. He would, without a doubt, be the heir to Vic’s so-called fortune, and he reveled in the fact, like a prince preparing to take over as king.

Eventually, Kat had had enough. She’d had enough of the torture, when Vic would hurt them just to feel powerful. She’d had enough of the manipulation, letting Wes and Vic control her, letting them dictate when she could eat, sleep, move, talk, laugh, and even breathe. She’d had enough of that life altogether.

So she left, and made a promise to herself that she would no longer be used as a weapon. She would not kill, she would not steal, she would not harm another human being for as long as she lived. She was going to change. She was going to use her power for good, and try to live a normal life.

She became Isabelle for a short time as she travelled and searched for a new existence. But she was Isabelle when she’d killed Michael Twins. She was Isabelle when she’d stolen and counterfeited documents to develop a new identity. And she was Isabelle when she attempted to kill herself with a bottle of pain killers the night before she became Lenore.

The urge to kill, to do bad things and feel no remorse, was, in fact, deeply rooted into the very soul of Isabelle. It was the only life Kat had ever known. And Lyla was so long dead, that she was unable to reach that part of herself anymore. Lenore had to be truly different. Lenore had to be the opposite of Kat and Isabelle, the opposite of evil and crime. Lenore would be her redemption, her second (okay, maybe third, or fourth) chance at obtaining a truly normal life, of being a truly good person. Lenore was her chance at happiness.