I didn't know what the vibration was, but it somehow took my thoughts and literally mixed them up inside of my head. It was almost like the things I thought about were jumbled up, and not the same as they had been prior to that event. Like, I clearly remembered hating Mathias' guts, but now he was standing in front of me and all I wanted to do was kiss him. 

"Miss me?" he asked, a smirk on his lips.

"No," I lied. But did I lie? I felt like it should have been true, but I had missed him. God, I was so happy to see him. But why was I? My brain went on and on, back and forth like this for at least five minutes. I couldn't stop the argument as my right and left hemispheres tried to figure out which way was up and which way was down. 

He pursed his lips, "That's really too bad, because I missed you... a lot."

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off when my brain apparently decided that the place where my feet were was considered up.

"Good."

He smiled at me, almost in triumph. "So you did miss me?" 

"Yes."

Someone from somewhere far away called my name but it didn't click that I actually enjoyed that person's existence until I was already out of the room with him, arm in arm. I pursed my lips. 

"Where are we going?"

He beamed again, "Somewhere else. Your friend back there don't like me too much, and I'd rather have you all to myself." He leaned closer and pressed his lips to my cheek. "You know, I'd much rather see you on my side than against me. You're such a good player in this game."

"We're playing a game?" I asked and forgot all about the first part of his sentence. I didn't realize that I had any friends to begin with. All I remembered was Mathias. Nothing made any sense and my stubborn left hemisphere told me I was being a dumbass and to wake the hell up.

"Yes, ma'am. You see, I'm apparently this bad person who does things to people without their permission. But you see, am I doing anything to do that you don't want to do?"

"No," I didn't hesitate. He was making an excellent point. It wasn't like he was dragging me away from that room with those people. My friends? I was walking willingly with him somewhere else, and I wasn't complaining or screaming.

"Right. So no one in this building has been subjected to anything that they didn't want to."

"Of course." I smiled and turned towards him. "You're right, of course. And I apologize for being so ignorant. Please forgive me."

He nodded and gestured towards the hallway again, "Shall we?"

I held out my hand and he grabbed it and led me down the hallway. "See, Samantha, I have another confession to make."

I raised an eyebrow, "Yes?"

God damn it woman! Wake up! How could I have been so blind to not see where he was going with this and how crazy he was and how stupid I was? I have never been more grateful to have the left hemisphere in my life. It was she who jerked me back to reality and what I was doing.

"Well, Samantha. I..." he laughed, "I think that I have feelings of affection for you. And I know that it's crazy to be telling you this, but I just wanted you to know how I felt." He smiled, "I was hoping to know how you felt as well."

Fuck.

I faked a smile. Everything made sense again. The vibrations in my brain had stopped, and the pieces of the puzzle fell together. I knew that in order to keep the presumption that I was enthralled by whatever he had done to me before, I needed to give an answer that showed my dedication. And apparently that meant confessing my undying love for this man. 

"Oh, Mathias. You're so silly. Of course I feel something for you too," I purred. For a second I thought I had over-killed it for a second, but then he couldn't bite back his smile and it shattered across his face in a way that had told me that I had convinced him. He turned back towards the hallway in front of us. 

What I didn't say to him was that the feelings that I had for him were purely hate. I figured I would have been more convincing if I left out that little tiny detail. He didn't seem to mind.

He turned to me again, not to say anything, but seemingly to reassure himself that I was still there standing next to him. This time, I spoke first.

"Mathias, my love?"

He smiled, "Yes?"

God, it was actually a lot of fun fucking with his feelings and emotions. 

"Where are we going?" I made it seem like I was innocent for asking the same question yet again. He didn't seem to mind much.

"I told you, beautiful. I want to take you somewhere special away from all of those people. Don't you trust me?"

No.

"Of course, baby. I trust you with my life."

"Perfect, because that's exactly what I plan to take from you." He turned back to the hallway that seemed to go on forever. My heart thudded twice in my chest then seemed to quit. He continued in a voice that sounded reassuring, but I could tell that he was acting just as much as I was. "I want you to give yourself to me completely and I want all of your love an affection only to me. I'm planning on taking away everything you love so only I remain in your life." I blinked, he didn't stop, nor did he notice how my breathing seemed to be twice as loud as it had been. "I plan on taking you away from everyone, but I need to know that you trust me. So I need to know if you'd die for me."

I didn't say anything at first. I processed his words. I supposed that wasn't the correct thing to do at the moment.

"Did you not hear me Samantha? I said I want you to give yourself willingly to me, I want you to do everything that I want you to do. Don't you wish to please me?"

"More than you know, my love!" I cried out, letting this fantasy help me play the role I didn't have a choice in choosing. Then, I realized that I could achieve so much in this state, being so close to him. I wondered how much information I could get out of him before he realized that this game I was playing was not real at all. I swallowed and braced myself, then asked the question, "But how can I trust a man I know nothing about? I love you, Mathias, but I cannot give myself willingly without knowing who you are."

I held my breath as he chewed on my words, letting them sink into his mind and letting his head form the words to answer my question. "You're right, Samantha. Of course, I forget how intelligent you are. Please forgive me."

"Of course," I whispered. It sounded more like a mumble, but he didn't seem to notice too much. 

He continued on, "And of course, now is a perfect time to tell you everything about me, for we have a long journey ahead of us as well as no one around." He was so dramatic. We were walking down a hallway for fucks sake.

I nodded, encouraging him to go on, not letting the sarcasm in my mind foil my plan to find out everything that I could about him. 

He smiled, then began. "I'm not the best at telling stories, so please forgive me."

My father sat across from me, his hand stroking his chin, staring at the board in front of him, deciding his next move. I had learned how to play chess from this wise man, and at the age of nine, I had become quite the challenge. Of course, I could never tell if he just got stupider, sloppier, or if he let me win intentionally.

"Well, Matt, I think I know what I'm going to do," he'd say before every move. It was like he had spent ten minutes trying to think of the exact same sentence every time I put down a piece. It didn't bother me much, I was used to a very boring routine.

He moved his bishop. It slid across the board in a graceful way, taking the queen I had not seen was in danger and immediately putting my king in checkmate. His blue eyes sparkled when he saw the shock cross over my face. How I could have been so careless was beyond me.

"No! I demand a rematch!"

My father shook his head, "I'm sorry, son. But it's getting close to dinnertime. You know how your mother hates it when she has to serve cold food." He stood up and stretched. "It was a good game, Matt. We can play again tomorrow."

I frowned at the pieces as Layla sprinted in the door. I growled when she ruined my concentration, but pretended that I didn't care so she wouldn't continue to do it.

"Daddy! You'll never guess who I saw," she giggled.

He pursed his lips, "Hmm, well. Can I have a hint?"

She smirked, then her teeth escaped and a smile flashed across her face, "It was that Smith boy!"

"Was it the Smith boy?" my father asked in an attempt to be funny. Layla was the only one who laughed. "Well, did you say 'hello' to him?"

Layla beamed up at him again, "Of course, Daddy. I'm not rude like some people." She was referring to me. "I walked right up to him and said, 'Gregory Smith, it has been a while since I've seen you around and I wish to welcome you back to the neighborhood.' And he told me, 'No, no, Layla. You've got it all wrong.' So I asked him what the devil he was talking about."

"Layla..." my mother scolded from the other room. "Ladies do not swear."

"I'm sorry Mum. Anyway, I asked him what he was talking about. What could I possibly have gotten wrong? I was polite and straightforward. He told me that his name wasn't Gregory Smith, it was changed to Gregory Wilson."

It was then that I started to actually listen to what she was saying.

"When I asked him why his name was different, all he told me was that his mum had gotten married again to another man, and she wanted them to be a family."

My father nodded and smiled down at her, "Well, now. That's quite an interesting story, Layla. Thank you for telling me that; I may have accidentally called him Mr. Smith instead."

She curtsied and then exited the room with a final, "You're welcome, Daddy." I watched her for a few seconds, then turned to my father. He was always so full of wisdom and information, I was a little envious of him. I aspired to be just like him one day.

"Father, what do those last names mean?"

He pursed his lips, "Well, Matt. What an odd question. What do you mean?"

"Greg's last name for as long as I've known him was always Smith. Now it's Wilson? Why does everyone have different last names? Where did they get them from?"

My father smiled, I never noticed it until then that he was much older than I really had seen. His eyes crinkled in the same spots they always did when he smiled, which was quite often. And his face fell by his lips and chin. His skin was soft and his hair was thin. But every time he flashed his teeth, I couldn't tell that he was as old as he was. He looked to be much younger when he smiled.

"Smith was the last name given to those who had occupations such as a blacksmith or a goldsmith. In order to keep Johnny the blacksmith apart from Johnny the farmer was to call one Johnny Smith and the other Johnny Farmer."

"Who decided that?"

He pursed his lips. "That, son, I couldn't tell you. Someone must have decided that along the way."

"And Wilson? What's the meaning of that last name?"

"Do you know your great uncle William?"

I nodded, "Yes, indeed, sir."

"Well, William is called Will for short, correct?"

"Indeed, sir."

"Well, the son of Will I believe would be called Wilson." He nodded, double checking his words and confirming them with his own gestures of approval. He had a habit of saying a true statement, then nodding along with his words. 

"But what about us?"

He raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean, son? What about us?"

"Our last name. What does it mean?"

He pursed his lips, "I often wondered this myself, so I did a little research." He stood up and left the room, then returned with a book on the history of surnames. "I believe we are descendants of the great Greek god, who surprisingly shares our last name." He flipped open the page to Thanatos.

I read the first few lines. "Father, Thanatos was the god of death."

He nodded gravely, "I know, son."

***

I am honestly so pleased with myself because of this chapter.

Well, here it is. It's a few days late, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. (:

Happy reading!