Brothers Of The Night

By Gary Abott

The story follows the lives of two orphans from the orphanage to their last days.  After their adoption, full of hope and joy, they start a new life in a completely different world than the orphanage, they make friends and enemies who, willingly or unwillingly, greatly influence the development of their fate.  A person who has never received love in his life is grateful for every word of praise and every touch that reaches out to him gently and softly.  With the passage of time, the mask falls off many people, who once enjoyed the role of helper, now subtly manipulates and controls the children, not even sparing their lives in order to achieve his own goals.  The children considered care, concern, and love what is just a simple business for others, in their eyes they are nothing more than commodities.  Love is the strongest bond in the world, as it knows how to heal the tormented, broken soul, and the soul can be a cure for the wounds of the body.  The traumas and tragedies that befall children lead them to God, bringing comfort and peace to their hearts.  Will they manage to integrate into society?  Will anyone be able to stop the benefactor before it's too late?  Can the bond formed be so strong that innocent children commit murder, thereby protecting their benefactor?  Can their faith provide forgiveness and absolution for past sins?  At the end of their journey, will they find happiness and love or will nothing but darkness, suffering and death await them?  There are a lot of questions, but we get answers to all of them during this twisty, exciting story, which partially deals with events that happened.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Jun 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9786150177311

Book preview

Brothers of the Night

Written by Gary Abott.

Imprint

Brothers of the Night (2023)

Copyright (c) [Gary Abott], [2023] All rights reserved!

All rights reserved!

Published by József Vámos sole proprietor.

Address: Hungary, 3663 Arló Zombori út 7.

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Registration number: 58063257

Chamber: Borsod-Abaúj-Zemplén County Chamber of Commerce and Industry (3525 Miskolc, Szentpáli u. 1.).

Editor: József Vámos.

Proofreader: József Vámos Sr.

Layout by József Vámos.

Translated it József Vámos.

Cover designer: Tom Matiscsák.

ISBN No E-Pub: 978-615-01-7731-1

ISBN No Mobi: 978-615-01-8224-7

ISBN No PDF: 978-615-01-7732-8

The plot is partly inspired by a true story, but the characters and fate of each character are fictitious, and it is not intended to offend anyone in their faith.

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The use of the story and characters in the book and the creation of spin-offs with altered plot threads are only possible with the written permission of the successors or the author. Copyright holder: [József Vámos].

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Content

Foreword

Initium Itineris

In search of happiness

Crossroads

Lords of the night

The price of sin

Blood and suffering

The power of faith

Leading sacrifice

Family feud

Redemption

Foreword

It is said that all people are born equal. The reality is that there are equals and more equals, because it is quite different to be born the son of a minister or secretary of state than to be born in a poor slum. Inherently, different opportunities lead to different life paths; therefore, we are not judged on the basis of our abilities but on the basis of our wealth, position, and role in society. There are situations when we cannot and must choose not between good and evil but between bad, worse, and worst. You have to imagine that there is a road that leads straight with a very high concrete wall next to it, which no one can climb alone. With help, standing on each other's shoulders, maybe someone can get out, but they cannot go back. Maybe he doesn't want to anymore because he may not be able to get out of the road again, and with him out of this life situation. Because this path leads to an abyss that swallows up every person who wanders into it, turning back on the road means nothing but poverty, sickness, suffering, hopelessness, destitution, and death. Therefore, you can only go ahead and wait for the end of the road. By misjudging us, there are people who go down the wrong path and have no choice but to steal, cheat, lie, or even take people's lives in order to stay alive. One can be smart and have an affinity for some technical field, such as medicine, physics, law, or mathematics, but if one does not have the basics, either on the parental side or on the financial side, then unfortunately he will lose hope, enthusiasm, and aspirations to make himself a better place, and with it the world, and his disappointment will put him in circumstances from which there will be no way out. Prison, abstraction, or some kind of addiction breaks his soul and then his body. He could live a perfectly normal family life, but circumstances do not allow him to do so because he chose only the bad and worst of the bad, worse, and worst options. If we had been in his place, what decisions would we have made in a similar situation? Let us not forget that those who do not have a family to support them in difficult times have nothing—no money set aside, no movable property, no real estate—that they could possibly turn into money to get out of the pit they find themselves in. Most things today can be solved with money. They say money doesn't make you happy, which may be true, but with its help, you can live a carefree life; there is no uncertainty, no doubt, no fear of tomorrow, and no bills. For example, if you have a child, you don't have to think about what you buy for him; you can buy him quality food and quality things, which can give him a more beautiful, happier, carefree, and healthier childhood. There's no deprivation, there's no hunger, and I think it makes most people happy if they can give their children a better life than they had. What could be the goal of a parent other than to give a happier, fuller, and freer childhood, thereby giving society a full-fledged and useful person? People judge each other very easily without being aware of the other person's possible traumas or bad childhood experiences, psychological injuries, or physical injuries that have defined someone's life, actions, thoughts, and fears, and perhaps this is why they have become addicted to some kind of addiction, be it alcohol, drugs, or gambling. Instead of helping our fellow human beings who stumble along the way, we kick them one more time, throwing them to the ground with no chance of getting back on their feet. I think we could change this mentality together if every person helped the other person who gets into trouble, even with a good word or a good deed, maybe moving the life of the person concerned in a direction that could fix it. In this way, people would believe and hope again in society and in their future, and perhaps next time they would help a similarly fallen fellow human being. I believe that if every person changed a little, then perhaps a cycle would start that would allow that sooner or later no one would end up on earth, because they would not suffer such trauma or tragedy that they would collapse and break, because before someone fell to the ground, they would grab them, catch them, and get the help they need, so that we could achieve a better world. Not everyone is born with the same abilities, physical or mental, but they can still be harnessed to maximize their potential. People have started wearing masks in front of each other; it could be social media, or we just can't open up to each other anymore, so we don't realize too late if anyone has a problem that is physical or psychological, imagined or real, but they see suicide as the ultimate solution. If we didn't wear masks and everyone put on their true faces, maybe it would be easier. There is no perfect life, and you don't have to be happy all the time. You can be sad and disappointed; it doesn't make you a worse person. But when you need a word of encouragement and they see these signs on you, you get it, and maybe those encouraging words give you the push to process your grievances. Maybe you didn't succeed at something, but next time you will succeed. It's not the end of the world, so you don't have to throw your life away. Those who want to throw away their lives because of real or perceived grievances or disappointments that they cannot process on their own and cannot really open up to anyone, perhaps even their parents and friends, choose the worst of their options because there is nothing in the world that we cannot solve together, process together, or process together with our partners. Believe me, you mean the world, happiness. Most of us choose technical means over personal relationships, and in our fast-paced world, we may not even have time to listen to the answers to our questions, even though a few good words and a hug could save a lot of people's lives. You won't be less than the person who succeeded the first time; you just weren't lucky, you weren't so prepared for it, or their physical and mental abilities are better for others, but that doesn't make you a worse person; you don't get worth less; that's not what defines you. You don't have to be the happiest person in the world or the most perfect person; just be yourself, and with your quirky habits, disheveled hair, and little grumbling, you become perfect and make yourself and others happy. Every person in the world is unique and different, but it is not wrong or worth less than others if we accept ourselves. We can accept and love others with all their habits, habits that may bother others a little, brighten someone's day, and see you perfect as you are. This is called LOVE.

Chapter 1

Initium Itineris

This is how the two of us against the world set off on our path, Zoli and I; my honest name is Joe. We were both about five years old, and from then on, I remember our life journey, which started out quite mournfully. We were both given up at birth, hoping that we would be in a better place, and with this difficult decision, our parents wanted to help a better-off family lift us out of the clutches of poverty and hopelessness. The intention was good, but life wanted us to take a different path. The large building of the orphanage is similar to a castle; it is in good condition for its age, and everyone tried to take care of it. It was lively and, if I may say, cheerful and friendly; if you entered as an outside observer, it would radiate warmth and tranquility, but if you lived here in similar conditions to the people being cared for, you would feel squeezed by these walls; in fact, it is a sad and inhospitable place. Life in the orphanage was not full of milk; we were small. Zoli was a blonde-haired, green-eyed, average-build little boy, while I was a bit chubby like Cupido, just without superpowers, but I was cute, with brown hair and brown eyes. The two of us loved each other as siblings, and although we had no blood relationship, we vowed to each other that we could only be adopted at the same time. At the age of five, the older children were already segregating us, and we told them that Tom was the most terrifying and biggest, fourteen years old, but everyone looked much older based on his physical features; he had red hair and a little freckled and scarred face, and even now the cold shakes me out of him when I remember. The most memorable occasion was the night before our adoption, when he told us the legend of the White Wolf. The rooms had 10 to 12 children arranged by age; we folded paper airplanes when Tom entered the room.

What's up, little shit? He asked in a deep voice, causing the air in the room to freeze.

Nothing; we're playing. I replied to him naively, and he came over and shuffled off.

I didn't allow you to speak to me, dwarf. His face contorted, as if offended by my answer.

Zoli then stood up, but before he could speak, he also received a slap. I saw a tear roll down his cheek, but he stood there like a statue. Then suddenly he swung his hand forward and slapped Tom's thigh. Surprise appeared on Tom's face, but he did not expect this, but due to his stature, it was the highest point we reached. So, in hindsight, his groin would have been a better target. I was very scared, but I stood up at that moment and thought that I couldn't let Zoli down even if we were beaten well, which I am not sure the adoptive parents would have rewarded because they would like to take home two children who were beaten blue and green.

Don't mess with me; what chance would you two have against me? The question was legitimate, although before we could respond at all, he continued.

This is my last night; I'm going to go and try my luck. I'm telling you all this so that my legend lives on, and my name lives on as the pride of White Wolf, our city of Middletown. You've heard of it, haven't you? He asked proudly, and then the children came from the other rooms. At that time, we didn't know who White Wolf was.

Then I will tell you that countless children in care and orphans have escaped from here, but all of them failed; they left hoping for a better life, but there were those who were happy when they brought them back, some who disappeared, some who had something worse than death. One man managed to escape from here and gain power, honor, and respect. It got its name from the fact that when he was seven years old, his parents died in an apartment fire. When he was brought here, his hair was already completely gray, described as blindingly white by those who saw him. If you think I'm bad, there are no words for it. When he got into these walls, they tried to break him too, and on his very first night, they managed to beat him because he was unprepared. On the second night, he was waiting for the three boys who had hurt him the night before, pretending to be asleep. The strongest one started towards him first, but before he could reach him, he jumped out of bed and struck his attacker on the knee with a huge hammer, which caused a chilling scream to leave his lips that startled the whole orphanage. Caregivers rushed over and saw the wolf standing with a hammer over two boys, both of whom were injured and were sobbing before he could strike again. They wrenched the hammer out of his hand, but they didn't expect him to have a pencil in his pocket. Pulling it out, he stabbed it in the face of one of the caregivers. The nurse collapsed to the ground; not a sound left his throat, and he could have screamed in pain, after which the others held him down and isolated him. Do you know who the nurse was on whose face she left a memory? Thomas asked.

There was a sense of pride and contentment, as if to atone for the wrongs he had suffered. And I didn't understand how a role model could be someone who did such things to others, but Batman was my role model at the time. But I thought that such a man could become a legend, but by the time I thought about it with my childish brain, Tom had already continued to tell the story.

Uncle Bela has something on his face. Zoli replied hesitantly.

That something is called a scar, and your answer is correct. After that, he was afraid of the wolf, everyone had no friends, and allegedly not a word left his mouth during his stay here. He wrote his answers on a sheet but just nodded at the simpler questions. He ran away at ten and came back eight years ago when he was twenty-six. In 16 years, he achieved everything I wanted and came back full of money and power. Now he has more companies and businesses. If he succeeds, so will I, although I must say I have never seen Thomas so confident and determined. I wanted to say something more, but then Uncle Bela entered our room and exclaimed firmly:

Blanket everyone in their rooms and turn off the lights.

With lightning speed, everyone jumped into bed, and total darkness and silence descended on the orphanage. But I couldn't really sleep as Zoli was spinning around in bed. I saw that he couldn't sleep either; unfortunately, it was no longer possible to talk, so I tried to calm myself down, but with little success. I just thought that if they were disappointed in me, they would bring me back here, and I would even lose Zoli. What if I don't like them and they don't take me? Maybe I shouldn't have eaten my pudding to be prettier? But it's good that I ate it; it was delicious and worth it. After that, I was already thinking about where I was going: will there be pudding, and will it be delicious? In this great reflection, I was hungry when I thought about what I could eat. I closed my eyes and saw fried meat. When Zoli told me that the big day was here, I opened my eyes and saw that it was morning. We were both very excited, like little butterflies flying in our bellies. We were given exit clothes that were nice and colorful, not as dull and worn out as we usually wore. At breakfast, there were very few caregivers; headmistress Sophia talked to the police, and then everyone knew that Tom had succeeded.

Go up and pack everything you want to take. Uncle Bela's voice was different from the softer one in the evening; he was strict when necessary but still caring. We were cared for from infancy, and at that time I did not understand how big a word it was. We went up the stairs to our room as fast as if we were at least twelve years old.

Do we put clothes on? I asked, although I saw Zoli sitting down on the bed and staring at the suitcase.

Afraid! Zoli said in a hushed voice, and then I looked at him, walked over to him, and saw his eyes, which filled me with tears.

I'm scared too, Zoli, but this is what we wanted to leave here together, and Uncle Bela wouldn't send us to evil people, but no matter what, we'll go through it together and stay together. When I said this, Zoli jumped off the bed and hugged me, squeezed me so hard that I could barely breathe, then whispered in my ear:

Nothing and no one can separate us. At that point, my fears had largely evaporated.

Then take only a few pieces of clothing; leave the colored pencils and toys here for the others. I came up with the idea, which Zoli supported.

Down the stairs towards uncertainty, we didn't go nearly as fast; if you could imagine us, you would see two sad children coming down the stairs as if they were one-year-old babies. Those who stand up and try to walk carefully plan and think through every step, but since the stairs were not infinitely long, sooner or later we had to reach the end. As we descended the stairs, we were greeted by a very deep voice.

Hi kids! It was about time you came down; I thought I was retiring from here. Zoli was so frightened by this sound that he jumped next to me and took my hand. We were both terrified, shaking like poplar leaves, hoping that neither of us would blink after overcoming the initial fright.

Say hello, children; you don't have to be afraid; Uncle Stevie is a very good person.   Uncle Bela said, and the others near him just approved.

Good afternoon, Uncle Stevie. We both mumbled in hushed voices.

There was a grave silence, as if everyone else was frightened by the two terrified little boys, and frankly, I was expecting a kind, soft-handed woman.

What do you like to work on, Uncle? Zoli asked him, not that we had much choice.

I'm a police captain; I lead the local police.

I thought Batman was helping the cops, and as scary as he is, he can't be a bad person. In the beginning, I was afraid of Batman too, and then he became my hero. It was then that Zoli made comments that he wished he hadn't made if he had been agitated and spoken quickly, but at the other end of the spectrum in this case, he stared silently in front of him with his head down.

Uncle Stevie likes to be a big one, and in those big black dresses you look like a scarecrow, and on TV, the mustachioed, bald uncles are all troublemakers; I like to look like them. What do you like to think about? Uncle Stevie had a great laugh at this.

First of all, you don't have to be afraid of me. Zoli, I don't hurt anyone, only those uncles who do wrong. The second time I heard that you have been cared for here since birth, you have been cared for a lot by your caregivers, which can be seen because you are polite and speak nicely for your age; you are skilled. Third, I'm thinking about taking you home and introducing you to my wife, and then we'll have lunch. My wife stayed home to cook and bake for you, but now I have to sign a few things so we can get out of here, but I'll hurry back and then we can go.

Uncle Stevie went to the office with headmistress Sophia to take care of the papers and all the other things that are customary at this time. Principal Sophia was not particularly friendly; she was rather measured, a little grumpy, and constantly wearing costumes. She did not maintain good relations with the people in her care; she only spoke to us when we had to. Uncle Bela came to us.

Children, nothing will be wrong; rest assured, Uncle Stevie and his wife Mary are very nice people; you will have a good place with them, but if you do not feel comfortable with them for any reason, you can always come back here. When you grow older, you can come back to tell them about the many experiences you have had outside these walls and set a good example for others. Take care of yourselves and each other.

After Uncle Bela's words, we couldn't even speak. We both hugged him, and his heart hammered so hard that he almost fell out. Later, I realized that he was maybe even more nervous than we were; he was rooting for us to get to the right place, then to fit into our new environment, to be accepted, and then we also accepted others.

It's all right, kids, we can go. Uncle Stevie said this with satisfaction, stepping out of the office.

I'm glad that the trunk will fit those two small bags, she cheered on. Thank you all; see you as soon as possible.

He stormed out the door, and we followed him. When we got out the door, the trunk was already open. He took our luggage, put us in the back, and fastened our seatbelts. Looking out the window, we saw Uncle Bela, who waved to us. We wanted to wave back, but our arms didn't move for a blink of an eye, and we couldn't see either the orphanage or Uncle Bela anymore. I had dual feelings that filled me with joy and hope that maybe I would have my own room, games, a courtyard where we could play catcher with Zoli, and if we were lucky, we could even make new friends. On the other side, there was uncertainty. Where do we end up? Who else is waiting for us? What kind of wife is Uncle Stevie's wife? Will he be kind to us? Will I finally have Mom and Dad? Thinking about this, we traveled in silence; the minutes seemed like hours. Zoli didn't speak either, but I could see the worry on his face; he stared down at him, his mouth trembling with nervousness. The car slowed down, then turned right into a garage and stopped in front of it. Next to the garage stood a two-story, snow-white family house, in front of which lay a huge courtyard full of thuja and roses. It was a very beautiful sight; I had never seen anything like this in movies. A smile appeared on Zoli's face as well as mine. A woman stepped out of the front door, and I saw anger and anger on her face. Little did we know that what awaited us from now on would be worse than a nightmare. The best part of our lives was the five years we left behind in the orphanage. Will we never be able to pursue happiness again?

Chapter 2

In search of happiness

The woman stood angrily in the doorway, not taking a step forward.

Kids, let's not make my wife wait; go ahead and introduce herself nicely as I did; just don't tell her that she looks like an evil aunt, and then everything will be fine. Uncle Stevie laughed.

We got out and headed towards the house; although we both had our noses hanging out, we were in no hurry to introduce ourselves, but then the woman started walking towards us with firm steps. When I saw this, I stopped. Zoli didn't look there, so I quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him back. We stood there holding hands in the middle of the courtyard, our hearts pounding in our throats. Then the woman walked up to us, stepped towards us, then kneeled down next to us with one hand and took Zoli's hand with the other.

Hi children, I'm Mary, Stephen's wife. You don't have to be afraid of me; we won't hurt you. If you look it up, you can see the house where we will live. I hope you will be happy as both of your rooms have a view of the courtyard.

She let go of our hands and gently caressed our cheeks. I felt very good; almost immediately the fear I felt disappeared. Her hands were as silky as velvet, her fragrance filled my heart with such calmness, the air around us was sweet as honey, and her voice was soft as that of an angel. I had not found anything like this after years. Even after many years, when I remember it, my heart and soul are filled with warmth. Looking up at her, I saw a very pretty, smiling, angel-faced, filigree woman, like a mother, maybe exactly like yours.

What's wrong, kids? That uncle yelled at you! She pointed to Uncle Stevie.

I saw anger again on Mary's face; Uncle Stevie seemed frightened; and I also thought it strange that such a large man would be frightened of such a small woman, but no voice left the throats of any of us; we shook our heads.

Did he hurt you? " Mary was already truly angry. Uncle Stevie ran from the car so fast to bring him there. I will not forget having such a big body that he could move so fast.

Speak up, children, because I'm being skinned on the spot! As he uttered these words in during running, he was already standing next to us. As he stopped, even our luggage fell out of his hands.

Auntie, don't get nervous; Uncle Stevie didn't do anything wrong with us. Zoli mumbled under his nose.

Alright, children, calm down now; you can't get hurt here. Come with me; I'll show you around, and then we'll have lunch together. Until then, Stevie will carry the luggage. No more bags?

That's all we have, Mary. I replied, and then I took our hands on one side and Zoli on the other, and we headed towards the house.

They like to be very pretty, and their house is nice.

Thank you, Zoli. I'm glad you like it, because you will also live here.

I'm down scarecrow and criminal, but at least somebody is pretty. Uncle Stevie rumbled under his nose as he picked up the packages from the ground.

Who said that kids? Mary asked, and Zoli raised his hand a little timidly. Mary looked back and looked over at Uncle Stevie.

You're right, it really looks like it. Mary began to laugh out loud. We did not dare to laugh; we just smiled, but this moment was enough to overcome the initial difficulty.

Don't you like being angry with us?

On you? Zoli, how can you think of such a thing? I am very glad that you have arrived with us.

You looked angry when we arrived.

„Yes, but I wasn't angry with you, but at the scarecrow who only looked at the first page of the shopping list and forgot to read the other two, so I'll have lunch later because I had to go shopping. At the store, I met Father Michael, who is eager to get to know you and wants you to join the church in the future." Then I looked at Uncle Stevie; he was stroking his neck and drawing circles in the air with his finger; it was as if he were playing with his hair in embarrassment, which was quite amusing considering he was bald.

Well, enough of the talking, let's go inside.

Alright, honey, we're going upstairs. Arriving upstairs, we saw three rooms: the two children's rooms and the bedroom.

This will be your room, Joe. led us into the room.

As the door opened, we wanted to jump with joy. There were lots of toys, cars, colored pencils, chalk, books, and everything a child could wish for, including a huge bed. The room was blue with the moon and stars painted on the ceiling. Uncle Stevie unloaded our luggage, and our mouths were wide open.

Come see Zoli's room too.

As soon as we entered, we saw that the two rooms were like mirror images of each other; the room looked the same with the same toys; they didn't want to differentiate between us.

Children, both rooms have bathrooms, but until you get older, you can bathe in the bathroom below, but you don't have to come down to the toilet. The third room is our bedroom; if anything goes wrong, feel free to come over in the evening. Until lunch is ready, unpack. Maybe when you have time, look around. There is one rule: just don't run around the house; we don't want you to get into any trouble.

Stevie, come help me finish lunch. Then they went down to the kitchen.

Zoli, come unpack, then we will go over to you and unpack there too.

I don't want a separate room; do you think they will allow us to sleep together?

They will surely allow you to calm down, Zoli.  I hugged Zoli, and we unpacked and threw ourselves into the game.

Lunch is ready. exclaimed a deep voice. Arriving down, the series of surprises was not over yet; the table was full of heavenly delicacies.

What do you children ask me to take for you? The question sounded in a soft female voice.

We didn't really know what was allowed and what wasn't allowed on any of them; we were never offered. The portion was measured, and then if you liked it or didn't, there was no choice. I don't know what happened to me at the time, but I started crying. All these toys, all this food—for some reason, it brought this out of me at that moment. Seeing this, Zoli was scared. He didn't know what was wrong with me, so he started crying too. Mary was terrified; she thought she had said something wrong, or maybe she had done something wrong.

"Kids, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?