The Guthrie family had gathered in the dining room, the warm aroma of roasted chicken and spices filling the air. Sophia, careful and graceful, had just placed a steaming tray in the center of the polished table. Beside her, Lauren, her mother, smiled softly, smoothing out her apron. The room hummed with laughter, the clinking of cutlery, the soft murmur of conversation. Everything seemed perfect. Everything seemed normal.
But Max, the patriarch, did not share in it. His hand hovered over his glass of water, tapping a slow, uneven rhythm against the rim. He forced a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. A shadow of unease clung to him, subtle yet undeniable.
"Max, you don't appear to be enjoying the food," Lauren said gently, studying him.
Max forced a laugh. "No, Mom. It's good. Believe me, it's good."
Sophia tilted her head, observing him. "Then what's wrong, Max?" She passed the tray to him with a softness that only a daughter could afford.
Liam, Max's father-in-law, chuckled. "I guess he's thinking of taking another wife."
Max's expression darkened briefly before softening with a weak glare. "Really, Dad?"
"Am I wrong?" Liam asked casually.
Max shook his head. "Of course you are. I have a wonderful wife and a great son. What more could I want?"
The fragile warmth of the dinner returned for a heartbeat, but tension lingered, stretching between the family members like a taut string. Lauren's eyes moved toward the absent figure. "Speaking of my grandson, where's Zayn?"
Sophia replied, "He's in his room."
Lauren frowned. "Go get him, then. Dinner is ready."
Max sipped his water. "No need, Mom. He's already on his video game."
Lauren raised an eyebrow. "You're saying a thirteen-year-old can't be pried from his game?"
Sophia smiled faintly. "It's not as easy as you think, Mom."
Max's gaze drifted to the window, where shadows of the evening stretched across the lawn. A chill ran up his spine, not from the cool breeze, but from an instinct honed over years. Something was off. Something dangerous.
For a moment, silence fell over the room, broken only by the faint clatter of cutlery. Even the ticking of the wall clock seemed unnaturally loud. Max's eyes flicked to the front door.
Then the doorbell rang.
A simple sound, ordinary any other night. But tonight, it shattered everything.
Liam moved first, peering through the peephole. Max tensed. Something about the figure outside felt wrong.
Liam opened the door.
A single gunshot cracked through the air, sharp and final. It struck him in the forehead.
Upstairs, Zayn froze. His controller slipped from his hands. For a heartbeat, he thought he imagined it. Then screams tore through the house.
Lauren's cry shattered the fragile calm. Sophia gasped, pressing her hands to her mouth. Five men dressed in white entered the living room, moving deliberately, silently. Their presence radiated danger.
The apparent leader, Lucas, smiled, watching Max's fear.
"I haven't told anyone what I saw," Max pleaded. "Please… leave my wife and mother-in-law out of this."
Lucas chuckled. "And you expect me to leave just like that? Since the old man is dead, it's only fair everyone else pays the price."
"What do you want?" Sophia whispered.
Dickson, another of the men, sneered. "Your husband saw something he shouldn't have. That makes you all targets."
"Leave them out of this," Max begged.
"As you wish," Dickson replied mockingly.
Lauren collapsed under Marvin's gunshot. Sophia screamed as she fell to the floor beside her mother. Max fell back, tears streaming down his face.
Santiago raised his gun toward Sophia. Max fell to his knees. "No! Kill me instead!"
The gun fired. Sophia dropped.
Zayn, from his door, watched in horror. Every muscle in his body froze. His parents, his grandparents. Gone. His father, Max, pleading and crying. The men in white moved like shadows, enjoying their carnage.
Max begged again, "I was the only one who saw it. Why involve my family?"
Santiago, Lucas, Dickson, Marvin, and Aron ignored him.
Lucas's voice cut the room coldly. "Before this ends, I want an answer. Is there someone else?"
Zayn stepped out of the shadows. "Leave my father alone!"
Max's eyes widened. "Run, Zayn… run!"
Lucas smiled faintly. "He's still standing."
Max cried, "Please spare the child!"
Aron fired. Max fell.
"Dad!" Zayn screamed.
Lucas gave his final command. "Kill the boy. No survivors."
Zayn turned and ran.
Dickson hurried after him as he burst through the back door. Rain poured heavily, thunder rolling across the sky. He jumped from his bedroom window, hitting the ground hard. Pain tore through him, but fear drove his legs forward.
He ran through the backyard, tears blurring his vision. Images of his mother and father flashed in his mind.
Reaching the bridge, Zayn slowed when he heard a gunshot.
He turned slowly.
"That's enough, kid. You'll die anyway," Dickson said, raising his gun.
Zayn stepped backward, slipping on the wet surface.
"Stop," Dickson ordered.
The gun fired.
Zayn screamed as he fell off the bridge.
His body hit hard below. Pain tore through him as darkness swallowed everything. Rain poured, blood spread beneath him.
Moments later, a man dressed in black stepped out of the shadows. He stood over Zayn's unconscious body, hands in his pockets, silently studying him as thunder roared overhead.