Chapter 6 - The Monster Unleashed
"Julian!" Vanessa screamed, abandoning all pretense of calm as she bolted out of the guest bedroom and sprinted down the staircase.
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the heavy glass lamp from the nightstand, ripped the cord from the wall, and rushed out right behind her. Lily stirred on the bed, murmuring in her sleep, but I couldn't look back. The entire house was shuddering beneath our feet, accompanied by the horrific sound of splintering wood and tearing drywall.
When I reached the top of the stairs, the scene below defied all laws of physics and sanity.
The heavy oak bookcase had been completely smashed outward from the inside. Plaster, lath, and insulation lay scattered across the living room like winter snow. And standing in the middle of the wreckage was Julian. He looked less like a human being and more like a feral beast—his clothes completely shredded, his eyes wide and bloodshot, holding a jagged iron pipe he must have pried from the home’s internal plumbing.
"You thought you could cage me forever, you treacherous bitch!" Julian roared, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.
Vanessa scrambled backward, slipping on her own polished hardwood floor, dropping the kitchen knife as she hit the base of the sofa. "Julian, stop! We had a deal! We were going to split the accounts!"
"There are no accounts left, Nessie!" Julian snarled, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her with the iron pipe dragging across the floor, leaving a screeching scar in the wood. "I spent five years listening to you talk to yourself, plotting, laughing while I ate moldy bread through a crack in the wall! You drove me insane!"
"Julian, no!" I yelled, rushing down the stairs two at a time.
For all my hatred toward Vanessa for what she had done, she was still the mother of my child, and watching my brother descend into murderous madness snapped something inside me. I leaped off the bottom step, tackling Julian sideways just as he raised the iron pipe above Vanessa’s head.
We crashed hard into the coffee table, sending glass and magazines flying. Julian was shockingly strong for someone who had been starved for years—fueled by an ungodly reserve of pure, undiluted hatred and adrenaline. He pinned me to the floor instantly, his skeletal hands wrapping around my throat, cutting off my air supply.
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"You always took everything, Arthur!" Julian wheezed, spit flying from his lips as he squeezed tighter. "The company, the inheritance, the wife! And now I'm taking your life!"
My vision began to tunnel, darkening at the edges. I clawed at his wrists, but my fingers slipped against his clammy, dirt-caked skin. Through the blur of my fading consciousness, I saw Vanessa scramble to her feet. She didn't run to help me. She reached down, grabbed the heavy brass fireplace poker, and swung it with all her might toward Julian’s head.
