Psyche

I found this somewhere in my laptop...it's an incomplete story from a few years back, and I'm going to finish it off.
Here's the first chapter:

Chapter 1

It was raining heavily as the boy stepped out of the house and into the wet. His bare feet felt cold as he splashed through the water and mud. His long silver hair stuck to his face, making it extremely difficult to see what was on front of him.
The chirps of crickets were hardly audible when he had walked about fifteen feet from the house. He stopped walking and dropped to his knees, turned his head up and watched the rain fall, a single sigh escaping his lips.
“God…I love the rain,” he whispered to himself as the cold water splashed onto his face.
Suddenly he heard a sound that was quite loud, even in this rainstorm. A twig snapping, followed by heavy footsteps. Someone else was around.
“Who’s there?”
He whipped his head side to side and noticed a tall figure standing near a bush. The creature slowly walked up to the boy, who was slowly crawling away, his eyes still on the unidentified creature.
As the creature came closer, however, the boy noticed that it was a familiar face. The person had short silver hair and a blank expression in his icy blue eyes.
“Oh, God, it’s you, Zach! You scared me there! Don’t do this to me again, okay?” the boy exclaimed, smiling at his sibling warmly as he got to his feet.
Zach didn’t reply. He was staring down at the mud and dirt where his brother was sitting moments ago.
The boy, Syke, waved a hand in front of Zach’s face, “Hey, are you listening?”
Zach swung his leg up and kicked Syke in the stomach. Skye fell back into the earth, groaning and surprised.
“Z-Zacharius…,” he began, crawling away. His sibling had kicked him surprisingly hard; Syke could never have imagined that his brother possessed such strength.
Zacharius didn’t let him escape. He grabbed Syke’s right leg and dragged him through the wet weather. The wet mud coated Syke as he screamed.
The rain was too loud. His screams were inaudible.
Syke continued to protest and scream, though it was all a futile attempt, a failed call for help. Zach slammed his brother against a tree and-still possessing a blank expression in his eyes-pulled a knife out of his black coat's pocket and slowly inched it up to Syke’s throat.
“Brother…,” Syke whispered, trying to escape his brother’s tight grip at his throat, “You’re not going to…kill me, are you?”
Syke had the delusion that a malicious grin was plastered onto Zach’s face as the knife cut into the boy’s flesh.