I watched Miguel's body collapse to the floor like an inanimate object, the gunshot still echoing loudly in my ears. Horror-struck, my eyes widened. I tossed my head in the old man's direction. "What did you do? You shot Miguel!" I snapped. 

The old man raised his gun and blew at the emanating smoke. "I heard from your friend that Miguel is a cat. I ain't seen no cat; so I fired. But it doesn't matter nonetheless," he leaned in, "rubber bullets."

Miguel had gotten shot in his left thigh. He laid supine upon the floor, elevating the wound and groaning relentlessly in agony. I couldn't just watch him there. I jolted. And then I proceeded to move toward him. Though, as soon as I took as much as a single step forward, I heard a clicking gun.

I looked up at the old man, who now held his gun in front of him, aiming at me. I paused, scared out of my mind. I clenched my teeth. "He's still losing blood."

The old man smirked. "O, he'll be fine. There isn't anything thing like being shot, but the more you experience it, the more you are able to cope with shots received later on. Frankly, I don't know if that's true or it's just me."

Hanso peered at him. "Who ... just who are you?" fear was conspicuous in his tone. 

He coughed. "I wouldn't need to disclose my age. I don't have long before it's lights out for me.  But, I can tell you that I was a fucking war machine back in my golden days," he grinned, "It seemed only like yesterday. In truth, time waits for no one. But before I go," he glared, "there is something I must tell my son. Would be so kind as you tell me? I mean, you clearly lost in the games we've played."

"We only played one round!" Hanso snapped. 

I didn't dare open my mouth. The old man threatened to take my life should I guess incorrectly. And, I  did guess incorrectly. 

"True," he said, "there was only a single round. But I won nonetheless. Or do you prefer for me to shoot your friend, and proceed to another round? He did guess incorrectly."

Hanso looked at me, thoughtful. Our apprehended gazes met. Then, his head slowly withdrew as he returned his attention to the old man. "Fine. You won the game. What do you want from us?"

The old man started, "You see, I—" 

"He's a murderer," Miguel chimed in, "the basement ... there are bodies in the basement." He furrowed his brows, placing pressure on his wound and glaring at the old man. 

"Those words flatter me," the old man said, "but I'm afraid you're incorrect. I did bring those people here. No," he shook his head, "I didn't bring them here. I kidnapped them. But I wasn't the one who killed them. You see, my son has a problem ...."

I raised a brow. "A-a problem?"

"Yes. Most likely a problem for which I am at fault. He consumes the blood of his own kind for survival and sheer power. Call it cannibalism if you like. But just as you consume food for survival, he does the same," he chuckled, "there's a bloodfest down there in the basement.  My son isn't normal like you three. He's messed up in the head because of me. I've created a monster, and as you can see, I'm very proud to say that."

Miguel slowly climbed to his feet, shifting his weight to the unharmed leg. He looked at the old man, knitting his brows. "There were children in that basement."

"I see children as inexperienced adults. As for my son, I don't think he even sees them as that much."

Miguel scowled. "You people are sick. Your type disgusts me. Hanso, Ash ... let's get out of this place."

Miguel limped right out of the room. The old man simply lowered his gun. I was confused. Why had he lowered his gun? I heard Miguel's footsteps on the wooden floor. But they later came to a sudden halt.

I looked at Hanso.

Hanso looked back at me.

The old man wore a smirk on his face. 

Suddenly, Miguel came limping back into the room. He stood right next to Hanso, peering at the old man. The old man licked his lips. Hanso grimaced. "Miguel? Why'd you come back in here? He clearly doesn't want you. He wants me and Ash."

"Did you come from the old world, or an asshole, boy?" The old man asked. "Fun fact, I'm one of the first to live in this 'new world' in that the dome was cast over this area of the city, which was where my house was. Where my house is. And young man, you must be an asshole. I don't want you and this 'Ash'. I want the three of you. I  wanted him to leave."

Hanso grimaced again. "What are you talking about? I'm so confused right now."

"To ease the pressure on that poor ignorant brain of yours," the old man said, "I won't be raising my gun. What's more, I'll explain myself to you. Again, I want the three of you. The more of you, the better. Andrew is a tough one to get, and I'm certain that at least one of you will meet death on the task. As for the reason I wanted 'Miguel' to leave ...

"That's simple," his eyes darkened, "I own an ability. And just like my son, I've had it a long time before that wave awakened us all recently. This ability was cast upon the house. You didn't think a ninety-year-old man like me could keep all those people here for my son without some power, did you?"

I furrowed my brows. "What ability is it?"

The old man grinned. "Actually, I own two abilities. But as for the one I've used on the house," he pointed at the door to the stairs, "how about you and your friend go find out yourselves?"