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A Twist -- Psychological Thriller by Rafael Alizo

*Warning this story is PG-13 due to a small amount of violence and gore.*

The dinner was going perfectly; Gerard thought he could finally make some progress with Cynthia. She looked beautiful under the restaurant's dim lights; not even the food looked as good as a kiss from the lips of such a woman. He took a sip from his glass of wine, and although he was not used to drinking, he felt that the night deserved it.


She said things to him from the other side of the table, and he smiled, bowing his head; in that, he noticed his pocket was glowing. A message had come to him.


"G, it's K, they got him."


Gerard kept his composure and excused himself to the bathroom. Cynthia did not mind and decided to wait for him while she waited for the main course, only Gerard would take longer than expected.


Instead of turning in the bathroom corridor, he headed for the exit, where the valet would be waiting for him with his car.


Once Gerard was behind the wheel, he stepped on, as he was about to hunt down those who dared to lay a finger on his son.


Once he arrived at the hideout, his team already had weapons up to their teeth (which was not an exaggeration, since Reggy even had a false tooth where he held a small knife inside); he asked his second in command about the situation.


"I even put on my best clothes for this woman," he yelled.


"It's Kyle, boss; Malcolm's men tore your house down until they found him."


The drugs underworld would always be a dangerous place; Gerard knew that from the day he started but never thought he would see anything worse than his own death. Malcolm was heartless. He earned a place in the business as one of the brightest minds in strategy, whether selling or dealing with the enemy. Gerard considered himself the only one who could stand up to him. The only thing worse than Malcolm himself was the fact that after three years of constant conflict, none of them had seen their own faces.


But the wait was about to end, as Malcolm decided to go over the line; Gerard was not going to be left with his arms crossed. He enlisted his men, and they drove in five vans to the tracked location believed to be Malcolm's men.


"Hurry up, I left the prettiest girl alive waiting for me at the restaurant," he wanted to get out of it as soon as possible, so he took off his suit and hoped the best. Wished to have Malcolm in front of him so he could break his legs and gouge out his eyes.


Upon arrival, they were intercepted by Malcolm's henchmen, who unleashed a gunfire carnival on them. Luckily, Gerard foresaw this and sent men undercover to surprise the surprise.


When the shooting ended, Gerard, impeccable, got out of the truck, demanding to see Malcolm once and for all.


A large man, similar to Gerard, came out from behind a wall, with Kyle, Gerard's son, held by his neck, pointing a gun at him.


"It's a pleasure, Gerard," he saluted, "I need you to focus on what I'm going to tell you."


"You son of a gun, let my kid alone," Gerard noticed how Malcolm was strangling Kyle too hard, "we can talk it like normal people."


"I needed to get your attention."


"And you got it," Gerard pointed at him.


"Are you crazy? I'm holding your kid as a hostage, and you're pointing at me? You really are nuts, buddy."


"Too much talk and no action; what do you want?"


"I want you to quit the business."


"And you tell me I'm the crazy one."


"My boss ordered me to tell you that."


"Your what? You're not Malcolm?"


"Malcolm? What the hell are you talking 'bout?"


"Wow, wow, I don't get it. Who are you?"


"Don't you know?" Said the big guy, "I'm your son."


"Is this some kind of joke?" Gerard had his finger on the trigger, waiting for the precise moment and angle to fire.


"Of course not, dad," the guy released Kyle and went directly to him, arms opened, like trying to hug him.


"Is this a…?" Gerard fired directly to his head, covering himself with small drops of blood.


"Crap! Now how am I going to be back with her?" He saw Kyle, at least he was safe, "Kyle, son, come here, boy. Now everything's okay."


Suddenly, Kyle takes off a gun from behind, pointing at his dad, "You really messed up this time, old man."


"Kyle? What are you doing?" A slight impulse caused Gerard's hand to shake as if he had a reflex for aiming at his own child in self-defense.


"I'm not Kyle; my name's Malcolm."


"Of course not, you're my kid; what's happening? Are you drugged? That bastard gave you drugs?"


"Who? I'm him."


Gerard felt very confused; that is, he was in front of his son, who pointed a gun at him, claiming to be his enemy. The same son he had raised all his life, nothing had sense.


But from behind, Reggy, mortally wounded, used his secret tooth knife to stab Kyle. Gerard yelled and shot at Reggy, who only wanted to help his boss. He ran directly to his son, watching him bleed out.


When he looked into Kyle's eyes, Gerard noticed something strange, a small shadow inside the pupils that indicated something disturbing, that shook all his muscles at the same time: He had no children.


He was overwhelmed by everything; vomit started coming up, his vision was blurred, and he saw the fake Kyle get up with the wound in his back dripping, even with a lost look, telling him that the game was over.


Meanwhile, at the restaurant, Cynthia waited impatiently. One of the waiters arrived, asking her if she knew a man who seemed to be having a psychotic attack in the parking lot. She replied that she wasn't aware of it. The waiter said the man pulled out a gun and appeared to have shot another man with his son.


She was perplexed by such a chaotic situation and wished that everything would be resolved. She took a sip of her wine and looked at her partner's glass, which remained half-drunk, still with some small fragments of the hallucinogen she added at the beginning of the evening.


As Gerard slowly raved, Malcolm enjoyed her dinner, knowing she had finally won.


--Rafael Alizo


Stay Breezy, Breezers!


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