The Black Lake: Tales of Melancholic Horror by Jon Athan Page B

He slowly shook his head as he gazed at his tyrannical son in disbelief. His mind raced with impracticable solutions to an unfathomable problem. He was lost in a maze, wandering from one dead end to another.
    Lawrence asked, “What if we don't want to play? What if we don't vote? What are you going to do to us, boy?”
    Jonathan smirked and said, “You will vote. If you don't, I'll get rid of you, too.” Jonathan rolled his eyes and explained, “I don't want weak parents anymore. I don't want cheating siblings. I want a strong family, a family as strong as me.”
    Patricia asked, “What... What are you going to make them do?”
    Jonathan glared at Richie and said, “He'll go first.” His eyes sharpened as he stared at his younger brother. In a sonorous tone, Jonathan roared, “Wake up, Richie! I know you're not sleeping! Wake up!”
    Richie slowly opened his eyes, peeking towards Jonathan as his body shuddered from the pain and fear. He gasped as he caught a glimpse of Jonathan's vicious eyes. Richie squirmed towards his mother's bosom, seeking comfort and sobbing wildly.
    Patricia clasped her palms together and pleaded, “Please, don't do this, Jonathan. I'm begging you. I'll do anything you ask. Please. ”
    Jonathan shook his head, then glided his eyes upward. Miraculously, Richie levitated away from his mother's torso, following the path determined by Jonathan's piercing eyes. As he floated through the air, Richie grunted and groaned. He could only utter a frightful croak as he struggled to comprehend the situation. Patricia, Lawrence, and Cecilia watched in utter awe.
    Lawrence whispered, “He's getting stronger...”
    In a hoarse tone, Jonathan said, “I'll let you go now, Richie.”
    Slowly and meticulously, Jonathan lowered his younger brother towards the center of the living room. Richie sobbed and tottered as he tried to balance himself on his only functioning leg. His right leg was as limp as a noodle.
    Jonathan said, “Prove yourself, Richie. Show us what you can do for this family. Show us why you're not the least favorite. And, don't you dare cheat.”
    Richie grimaced as he turned towards his unavailing mother and his pensive father. With few options on the table, Richie hopped in place – bouncing like a kangaroo with one foot. He cried with the slightest movement of his right leg, each jump more agonizing than the last. Tears gushed from his eyes like sparkling waterfalls. Cecilia gazed at Jonathan. Her eyes were brimming with brackish tears and sorrow. She couldn't tolerate her younger brother's pain and Jonathan's vainglory.
    Cecilia pleaded, “Please, stop. He's hurt. Let's just go outside and play, Jonny. We'll play like before. I won't cheat or anything. I swear...”
    Jonathan scowled and shouted, “Shut up!”
    The hardwood floor screeched as the three-seat sofa was shoved by an incorporeal force. Patricia and Cecilia gasped as they tightly gripped the sofa. Lawrence stood from the window with his fists clenched. He stepped forward, then stopped. The hesitation hit him as soon as he gazed into Jonathan's eyes. He was too frightened to fight back and he couldn't admit it.
    Jonathan turned towards Richie and said, “You're useless. No wonder you have to cheat to win. You think hopping like an idiot will make you the favorite? Maybe they'll spare you because it's cute, right? No, you have no skills and you have no talents. You are useless, Richie. You won't last long.”
    Cecilia placed her palms on her ears and yelled, “Leave him alone!”
    Jonathan surged from his seat with a minatory scowl plastered on his soft face. He turned towards Richie and glared at his left leg. Abruptly, Richie's shrill shriek echoed through the home. The bone-crunching pop from his left leg bounced off the walls – the pain reverberated through his trembling body and the living room. Disabled by the attack, he plummeted to the floor – Timber!
    To his utter surprise, Richie was caught by his father. Lawrence