Fractured Families Draft 1 CH 12

Story by Kindar on SoFurry

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#21 of Fractured Family

draft 1 of Book 5 in the Tristan Series, where Alex must deal with Tristan being taken from him and how far he will go to get him back, and Tristan has a painful family reunion

in the midst of his drug induced insanity, Tristan finds out one thing that might actually break him

if you want to read ahead of everyone else, the complete story is available on my Patreon https://www.patreon.com/kindar

or, you can buy the published book on many E-book reseller https://books2read.com/u/4XZ8X5

or in print https://goalpublications.com/fractured-families-paperback/

Posted using PostyBirb


Tristan worried at the circlet around his bicep. He was still on his knees, the guards watching him. How long had he been this way? He'd stopped crying, but it couldn't have been that long. His knees weren't hurting yet.

He growled, why didn't it have anything for him to slip a claw in? He pulled his hand away. If he couldn't take it off, pawing at his was a waste of time. He needed to do something productive.

His wrist had a bracelet around it. Both of them did, as did his ankles. They were--

He looked up. Someone had whispered something. The guards were standing still, silent. He scanned the space outside the cage. No one else. So it had been one of them. He wanted to growl, to get them to repeat what they'd said louder so he knew what had been said. He didn't. He wouldn't be surprised by it next time, he'd control his reaction and listen in.

The bracelets were magnetic cuffs. He studied them, a part had been removed, the part that would attract them to each other. He looked over his shoulder. They had been mounted on the wall. That was how he'd been made to fly back against it. When turned on, so long as he was within the range, the bracelets would be pulled back.

They were--

The whispering was back.

He continued moving his fingers over the cuff, but closed his eyes. Focusing on the almost understood words. It was about him, he was certain of it, but he couldn't make them out. He also couldn't figure out how many speakers. It sounded like there was more than the three guards.

"What are you saying!" He glared at the guards, who plastered themselves against the wall and look at one another. Their lips weren't moving, but the whispering went on.

Tristan looked around. "Where are you hiding?" he yelled. He got to his feet and stalked the limits of his tether, trying to determine what direction they came from, but the volume never changed. Whoever they were, they were modulating their voice lowering and increasing them as he moved closer or further to make it impossible for him to work out where they were.

They were clever, but Tristan was better. They'd slip eventually.

"You will not break me."

The cuffs. He needed to get them off so he could get to the door. He could feel the joints, but they had been made to keep anyone from taking them apart. The manufacturer was...

He frowned. He knew the manufacturer. He'd studied these cuffs. Taken them apart, worked out the quickest way to disable them, with the smallest number of tools. Who was it?

The whispering was distracting him.

"Will you shut up?" he yelled. He was sure they were mocking him now.

"Eratu!" that who had made these cuffs. All he needed to do was remove the cover for the control module and he'd be able to overload it. He reached for his belt, but it wasn't there. Looking down at himself, he was naked.

The whisperers were laughing at him, he could tell now. He was sure they thought it was hilarious how long it took him to notice that. He had fur. It wasn't like clothing was something he needed to wear, so of course he didn't pay that much attention to it.

Humans and their constant problems with nudity. He'd made use of their discomfort around it when it suited him, but that didn't mean they could mock him now.

"Show your faces! Come here and laugh at me to my face." She faced the guards, testing his tether. "You, you're laughing with them, aren't you?"

They shook their head vigorously.

"Don't lie to me," Tristan growl. "I'm still going to kill you for it."

"We're not--"

Tristan's head snapped to the young man. His voice didn't sound like those whispering, but they'd shown how good they were at modulating them.

"You don't matter anyway. You're all dead." Tristan turned his back to them and went to the wall. He sat, resting his back against it and studied the cuff. If he could figure out how to remove some of the covers he would be able to see how it work, one he knew how it worked, he'd been able to take it off, tools or no tools.

He studied it until he became bored with it. Then he studied the other one, after that his ankle cuffs. Throughout all that the whispering continued, something mocking, others conspiratorially, and something uninterested.

He closed his eyes, both out of boredom and because he was tired. He needed something to do. If he couldn't have that, he wanted to sleep.

Except the whispering kept nagging at him. Changing tone anything he was about to nod off and making him pay attention to it, hoping to catch a meaning, a clue as to what they were planning. They would slip up eventually.

Since he wouldn't sleep he stood and practiced fighting moves. The cuffs threw off his balance slightly, but he quickly adjusted. He moved quickly, fast jabs and open-handed slashed.

He smiled. It felt good to be moving, get the blood pumping.

"Like you have any chances of getting out of here."

Tristan froze. The voice was behind him. Clear, distinct.

He couldn't be here.

"Right, because you didn't screw that up too."

Cautiously Tristan turned. The Samalian before him was slightly shorter, Justin's height. His fur was a pale gray, not the dark of Tristan's fur. He and Justin got their coloring from their mother.

"You're dead. I killed you."

"Really? Then how am I here?"

"You were dead, I checked. I'd never have left you alive to come after me."

"What? You think you're the only one who can play at being dead?"

Tristan snorted. "You're not that clever."

"Really? You think I taught you everything I knew?"

"Yes. You were so desperate to show me how great you were. How you could handle anything that you subjected me to every pain and misery you know how to deliver."

"And when you decided I had nothing else to teach you, you decided I had to die."

"No. You decided you were going to die when you stood in my way. I told you to go back to Justin that there was nothing you could do to me anymore."

"Is that so?"

The clang of the cage door closing resounded through the air and Tristan jumped, looking around. For an instant he thought he was back in that cramped cage, but no, there was still plenty of space for him to move about.

"Seems to me I can still affect you."

"This is a trick. You're dead."

The Samalian partially tilted an ear.

"I know you're doing this Little Brother!"

"Oh, right," a new voice said, behind him. "Blame me for your mistakes, as usual."

Tristan moved to the side and turned to keep both of them in sight. How Justin had made it inside the cage without making a sound he had no idea.

The guards were looking at them with perplexed expressions. They were probably wondering how they two of them had gotten past them.

"I have never blamed you for anything."

"Really?" Justing drew out the word, making it a mockery of itself. "And why is it you sent me here? Right because you blamed me for getting caught."

"You set it up."

"Are you sure? Or were you so desperate to blame someone other than you that you made connections where there weren't any?"

"You ran."

"Of course I ran. How many times have you tried to kill me?"

"None."

Justin stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. "You tried to blow me up, twice."

"I waited until you had fled off the ship and the station before destroying them. I didn't want you dead. I wanted you to suffer."

"Keep telling yourself that," His father said. "You just screw that up too. That's your problem, you can't do anything right."

"And then you find someone else to blame," Justin continued.

"Shut up!"

"Or what? You're going to try to kill me again?"

Tristan lunged for Justin, but his brother wasn't there anymore.

"Yep," his father said. "Can't even do that right."

Tristan turned. The two of them were side by side. "How did you move that fast?"

"Fast?" Justin shook his head. "I didn't move fast, you're slow. Always were."

"How many times did I have to beat you before you finally killed your first animal?"

"I didn't want to hurt anything!"

"It's what you are. You hurt and kill and destroy. You think you'd be alive right now if I hadn't taught you all you know? And how did you repay me? I knife in the heart."

Tristan could feel the knife in his hand, he could see his father's baffled expression as his life ebbed away. He hadn't felt anything killing his first sentient being. It had been no different than killing an animal.

"You didn't teach me everything. You taught me to survive, to remove every obstacle in my way. The rest I taught myself."

"And what? You kill father because you blamed him for not being as smart as I am?"

"He was in my way. He was keeping me from leaving."

"You weren't ready," his father said. "I wanted so badly to be proud of you, if you'd stayed, We could have done great things, instead you planted a knife in my chest and went about sowing chaos and destruction."

"I survived."

"Barely," his father said. He shook his head. "How many times did luck come into play?"

"Never! I've been holding the universe at bay through my planning and my actions. Not because of--"

"And there he goes, blaming something else." Justin rolled his eyes. "Like the universe ever did anything to you."

Tristan pointed to their father. "Didn't you listen to anything he taught us? The universe is a harsh place, always looking to destroy us."

"I never said that."

Tristan stared at his father. "You did."

"He didn't. You're just blaming him for something you created."

"He did! I remember it."

"Like your memory is such a great thing."

He did remember, he was certain of it. They'd been falling to sleep and his father had been telling them about how the universe wanted us dead, that one day it would come for us, it would send killers after us and we had to fight them off, always. That we couldn't give in, ever.

"I never said that," His father said.

"You did!"

"No, I didn't."

He had.

"Don't listen to them." The voice soothed him. He turned and smiled. Alex was there in his gray and crimson clothes. "All they ever do is stand in your way."

"You're here." Tristan couldn't believe how much relief he felt at seeing him. "You need to help me get out of here, if you kill the guards one of them should have the control for the cuffs."

Justin threw his hands up. "Great, now we have to watch you get all mopey."

His father shook his head in disappointment. Tristan didn't care, Alex was here.

Alex shook his head. "You don't need me to do that. You're Tristan, nothing can stop you. You know that so long as you're patient, you will be able to escape, then you can kill them all yourself."

"I don't know if I can Alex. I need you." He reached for the human, but he was further away than he'd thought.

"Not to get out of this. You can accomplish that yourself."

Tristan's voice caught. "I need you. You've done something to me."

"And he's blaming someone else, again."

"It's worse when you're not with me."

"I'm here now, it's going to be okay. So long as you ignore them and listen to me, it's all going to be okay."

Tristan smiled. Alex was right, so long as he had him at his side, everything would be well.

Fractured Families Draft 1 CH 20

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