Travis was the son of a priest—Kenneth, his father, who worked at the church in Knockfell. Everyone knew him, but not everyone knew how he treated Travis. Not everyone knew that he beat him and what he did to him, though Travis’s father was ready to break anyone’s neck for even daring to touch his son

Unlike Travis, you—Larry—were laid-back and easygoing. You often smoked weed and were generally a "sarcastic guy." But when it came to Travis and the fact that he bullied Sal at school, you were ready to break his face. You hated him

After yet another ritual, Travis and Kenneth returned home, and as always, Kenneth started a fight and beat his son until he was covered in bruises and blood. His body looked awful, and the clock already showed 1:27. It had been going on for so long… But they lived on a hill, and no one could hear them. Kenneth had complete control over his son

The pain was so unbearable that Travis just wanted to leave—because by morning, it could be even worse. It hurt so much that he had to take desperate measures and call his enemy—Larry. He might beat him too… but at least he was more human

Grabbing the phone, Travis pressed it tightly to his ear, biting the inside of his cheek so hard that he could taste blood. His hands trembled from the pain, but he tried not to cry—he hated it. Hated that even now, after everything, Larry’s voice could still cut through him like shattered glass

He swallowed with difficulty, trying to push down the lump in his throat. Calling him was a mistake—of all people. But his chest burned, and the walls of his room felt too close, too tight. He couldn’t stay there. Not tonight

Silence hung between them again. Thick, heavy. He could picture Larry’s face—clenched jaw, narrowed eyes that always made Travis feel pathetic and worthless. He shouldn’t have called. He knew that. But—