The Inception Trilogy by Easton Livingston (best classic novels .txt) 📗

closer observation, it appeared to be a clear, crystalline rock, a little larger than his hand in the shape of an L. Its insides swirled and oscillated with a kaleidoscope of colors which gave off a glow, the hues intertwining to create a tapestry of shades he had never seen before. He sat mesmerized at the dance of light. What was it? Who would send him this? What were you supposed to do with it? He thought he had seen something like this before online. Novelty stores carried them. But this one…this one was different. Not like what he’d seen, but similar, and it was way cooler. The colors moved in such random directions as if they were…they were…alive.

Lifting it off of the paper, he held it in front of him, absorbing all of its detail and beauty. The warm feeling he had became stronger, and he was unconscious of the enormous smile on his face until his mouth hurt. At the same time, the colors inside transformed, all fading into a bright yellow which illuminated the entire room. It was so bright he had to turn his head away from being blinded. At that moment, the light subsided.

Jason lifted the rock above his head, trying to locate where the batteries went, but found no access plate. He brought it closer to his face and peered through the clearer parts to see the wiring but found none. The light was turquoise now as he pondered its origin point.

Was it a part of the rock? Was it something separate? How cool was that?!

He heard the back door slam and clanging pans colliding in the kitchen.

“Jason!”

Terror seized him at the sound of his father's voice. The colors made an immediate shift to an inky purple. He didn't want his father to know he had this gift. It wasn't much. Just a glowing rock with some colors in it. But it was his rock. It was his gift.

Reaching down, he slid it underneath the bed, looking at the clock. He wasn't expecting him home that early. His father never came home that early. Jason was usually in bed by the time he stumbled in from the bar.

“Jason!”

His heart crashed against his chest. He didn't want to answer because he didn't want him to know where he was. But he knew if he didn't answer, he would get what he got earlier. Or worse.

“I…I'm in my…in my room,” he replied.

He heard his father's heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. Unsteady.

“Why is the front door unlocked?”

The undertone of his voice growled. He clambered up the stairs, stumbling through Jason's bedroom door, slamming it against the wall. His stare locked Jason's body into rigidness. Did he forget to lock the front door when he went downstairs? Stupid!

“I asked you a question.” It sounded like his father reached into the deepest depths of his diaphragm to impose the lowest voice he could muster, slurred as it was. The smell of alcohol was heavy, besieging Jason's nostrils.

“I...someone came to the door.”

His father stole a sideways glance at him as he steadied himself in the doorway. There was something about that glance. Something in it. Menace. Malice. Evil.

“I…am…sick of you,” he said, unbuckling his belt. “You’ve got an excuse for everything. I’m sick of your excuses. Sick of your whining. Sick of your lying. I'm sick of you!”

His pleas in the past for his father not to beat him always fell on deaf ears. He abandoned that course of action long ago. What worked was finding something to protect himself. But this was different. He could feel it. Something was wrong, more wrong than normal.

“You will die, boy!”

The voice emanating from his father was not his father. It was deeper, guttural, reverberating like multiple voices in a wide chamber. There was a madness in his eyes.

The black leather belt slithered out from around his father's waist, a snake ready to attack with its painful bite. It coiled in its master's hand, waiting for his command.

Bap!

It struck with fierceness, leaving its mark as it had done so many times before. He screamed, scrambling to the other side of the bed as pain coursed through his leg. His was a familiar scream in the neighborhood, but one the neighbors had trained themselves to ignore.

“I don't even know why I put up with you as long as I did,” his father yelled, stumbling to the other side of the bed. “I should have sent you away somewhere.”

The snake struck again, pain rocketing through his thigh. Tears welled up in his eyes, and within moments, a steady stream flowed down Jason’s cheeks. Fear strangled him. The voice coming from his father was almost unrecognizable. He was commanding the snake with more force than he had in the past. On a normal day, he could take what his father dished out. Tonight was different. Tonight, something told him to not stay in that house. He had to get out. If he didn’t, he would be absent from school tomorrow. And the next day. Ad infinitum.

Run! Run!

His mind became overwhelmed by the command, fight-or-flight redlining. He had to make it to the door, preferably without getting hit. To his chagrin, he zigged when he should have zagged, the back of his father's hand crashing into his face. The force knocked him back onto the floor. Black splotches cavorted in front of his eyes and a burning sensation throbbed in his nose which ran with blood.

“Where do you think you're going, huh?!!”

Reacting on instinct, he scurried underneath the bed.

There it was. His gift, swirling with brilliant luminescence. For a few moments, it hypnotized him, causing him to pause and inspect it. Reality gripped him by the legs in the firm hands of his father, who pulled Jason from under the bed. Reaching out, he grabbed the crystal rock, ins insides transforming to the familiar dark purple and black again.

Jason flipped over onto his back and stared up at his father. There was no protection. The snake lay