The man was very drunk. His legs were shaking, and every step made the whole house come alive with the sound of his loud footsteps. He stared around the home. The old house and the memories came flashing before his eyes. The bottle of alcohol in his hand tilted as he took another drink, gulping hard.
"Ohh, the home looks dirty… older than all those years," he murmured to himself, almost talking to another version of himself.
"Maria, Maria, Maria… Ohh my darling, my darling…"
Singing to himself, he entered the kitchen and looked in disgust at the waste and dirty, untouched food that had been there for years. He felt like vomiting but controlled himself.
"He isn't coming up," Ivan whispered.
Ryaan's eyes remained focused on the stairs, waiting for the man to come up so he could finish his work.
"Food… oops… after decades this home opens again. It needs renovation. A perfect home-sweet-home type… I will hire a very expensive architect for this house. I want to see you bright again, shining like those years ago… Oh Maria… Maria… she made you beautiful, she maintained you… right? Alright, alright, she is gone. You need a new maid. I will arrange that also… if the girl doesn't reject me… hahaha…" he blabbered and laughed at himself.
"Hmm, where's the switchboard? There's no light…"
He searched the walls, but the hall remained dark. The electricity had been cut years ago. Only the streetlamp light came into the house through the window.
He walked up the stairs. The bottle in his hand was shaking and making him uncomfortable, but he still held it tightly as he climbed. Upstairs, Ivan and Ryaan were hiding behind the door, fully alert.
"Maria… it's your room. I wonder, if I open it… will your presence still be there?"
"Maria, you died very young. Our kid… I don't know how he looks now. I don't know where he is…"
But Ryaan didn't care about him.
The man's laughing was aching inside Ryaan's heart, feeding his aggression. He clenched his fists tightly.
"You're sleeping here, Maria… HAHA! You're dead, bitch. You're dead…"
Ryaan's anger rose. He came out from behind the doors and grabbed the man's neck. The man struggled, trying to get rid of Ryaan's grip, but before he could break free, Ivan stepped forward to stop him.
But Ivan froze the moment he saw Ryaan's face, how brutal he looked. Ryaan wasn't just angry, he was obsessed with killing the man.
Ivan couldn't do anything except watch.
Ryaan snatched the bottle and smashed it on the man's head.
The man froze in shock.
Ryaan hit him hard; he collapsed on the floor. Blood spilled from the back of his head. Ivan tensed, his hands shaking. He was huffing, panic rising inside him.
Blood kept flowing.
"What did you do? Did you kill him?" Ivan asked, though he already knew the answer.
The man was lying still, not breathing. He died on the spot when Ryaan hit him with the beer bottle. Still, Ivan hoped it was just a minor wound.
"He deserved it," Ryaan said, breathing heavily. He was smiling, a weird, creepy smile that only a killer could give after achieving something dark.
"Are you okay?" Ivan asked. His hands were tightly gripping his shirt; he was scared of Ryaan, his friend.
"What happened to me?" Ryaan replied, suddenly shocked by the unnecessary question.
"Let's run, otherwise the cops will find us." Ivan grabbed Ryaan's blood-covered hands. Ryaan's hands were cut by the bottle, bleeding nonstop. Ivan held him tightly, almost dragging him out.
"They're motherfuckers. They have zero guts to catch killers," Ryaan mocked the cops. He was so sure they would never catch him. He was confident in his actions, and he had zero regret about it.
He kept staring at the dead body without blinking.
Ivan noticed everything. Ryaan's eyes were shining again, as if he was proud proud that he killed his father… like he achieved something huge he had waited for years.
Ivan understood it clearly: Ryaan had become a killer, and he was proud of it.
"Did you just call yourself a killer?" Ivan asked, hesitating.
"Correct," Ryaan answered immediately, without wasting even a second.
Ivan was afraid of him. How could a boy kill his own father? Is he human? Can he call himself human after what he committed today? Ivan felt ashamed. He felt like a criminal, and today he did a crime. Watching a crime is also a crime. Rather than helping him, he let him kill the man. That was his mistake… or his own desire to see how a person kills another one.