He turned and started walking towards the direction of his house, breathing in the damp air. 'After all of this is over what am I supposed to do now, I have no one to go to or anyone left in this town or the fucking world, there isn't much worth staying for here anymore and it's not like I really have a choice' he thought to himself as he glanced at the familiar grave along the lines in the cemetery. 'I could just visit every anniversary even if it were risky, move somewhere close but far enough nobody knew who I was' the news of his father's mistreatment to families and friend's brutal death spreading across the small town each time, it was shown on the news in different states but didn't make headlines everywhere mostly just other small towns. 'do I is still having to keep visiting? Would they care if I didn't?' he thought to himself, his family life was complicated since he was the only to be born human amongst the supernatural family. His father didn't leave a single chance to show his disappointment and his hatred for him. His mother didn't hate him but didn't protect him from his dad either, she was remained neutral never picking any side or doing what was right. His brother was the only one who showed some care for him but even he turned and caught up in his death metaphorically and literally.
Despite the deaths all connecting him as the sole survivor, these rifts in the family and arguments made the police suspect him more. Though they let him go and like every other time they couldn't figure out why someone had died, they couldn't find a source of the fire. Every single test, procedure, and report brought up nothing.
He was supposed to collect some of the remains found on the body from the station, but he still wasn't ready to look at it again. The last time he forced himself to walk his way down to the morgue with the police and hospital staff to identify and confirm the body, he almost threw up by the look of it. The skin was completely burnt and the flesh in some areas was blatantly visible. He wasn't expecting the sight to be so bad as he was asked if he wanted to donate any organs from the body that were still intact, but nothing seemed like it was still in good condition. Everything in the body looked burnt and dried up, he didn't want to look at it anymore.
He wanted to kill them, to kill the practical gang that took everything away from him, but he was human, what could he do. He knew self-defense, he knew how to shoot a good shot but none of those things were strong enough to kill them. Maybe if he took them one on one, he could kill them, put a wooden stake through their heart. They were always grouped up, he'd never get the chance, even if he did as soon as one of them is dead a 100 of them would've shown up to take his life in return.
The moment he gave his confirmation, he left the room not wanting to in there longer than he had to, and gave permission for it to be sent through forensic. Even though he knew that knowing how nick had died wouldn't make the slightest difference, the police still wanted to find something. They are grasping at whatever they could find. He didn't know if they were expecting to find some chemical that randomly sets on fire, he found it stupid since they all knew that knowing how it happened dint matter since the only family left didn't care but of course they suspected him and had to show report it was him.
Like he had expected they found nothing in the report and the court called for his innocence closed the case as quickly as it had started. It cost him more money than he thought it would, he never grew up with any in the first place and had nothing to inherit except a broken house from his family which he sold immediately after moving into the packhouse.
It felt odd in this place now, he knew it so well he could walk with his eyes closed and make it to the right destinations. All the scents, every small subtle smell good or bad, every little decoration across the businesses that were specific to this town, every little thing similar should feel like home. Rather they felt like nothing but an added weight that wouldn't let him breathe, he stopped in front of a crossing staring up at the familiar sight, the markets all in one lane and the busiest lane of the town. Despite the road being clear he didn't cross and stood there in his thoughts, he really wanted to move out of here, not only to save himself but for air, he could breathe which weren't contaminated by any memories.
The moment this was over, the moment the body was buried, and the funeral was held. He would leave, he didn't want to pack anything from his older house not that he had much left to pack but he wanted anything that reminded him of this place to be as far from him as possible. He could come back every year to visit his lover's grave but apart from the deserved gesture, he didn't want a single thing to with this place anymore.
With that, he crossed the road and made his way towards his house taking the longer route for the last time glancing and looking around at everything the small town had held. No matter how much anyone else would be sad and even devasted to be leaving this place he felt some relief or something similar, he didn't care to name it if he felt anything other than a crushing weight and empty pit of nothingness.