PART 1
It was mid-day with the sun beating rays over the clouds, which was overcast keeping a gloomy shade on the suburban sprawl. It surrounded the small cities that formed and joined at the epicentre of a new made unity. From the far south of these prospecting urban landscape the school of Miguria was silent, and but an empty shell as it rests for a month. An hour walk from there along busy winding streets to a much quieter long road led to a house at the end. The letter boys still at work despite the weather as one neared the next house. There was a tall girl there, and it was strange to him that she stood still at the gate, until he remembered he had a job to do.
"Oi, excuse me." He said as he carried on his jog, "Mind giving this to however is in there?" He offered the binded letter.
She turned and slowly took it with a vacant expression, and he eyed down her casual loose attire before leaving.
It was strange to Panam, you'd call a spouse who'd lost their partner a widow, a child who lost their parents an orphan, a dog with no owner a stray. But what do you call a parent who lost their child? Regardless she took a deep cool breathe in then out steeling herself. Eyeing the newspaper;another reason to enter that house, to beg and perhaps sob asking for forgiveness.
She hung her head and rung the button at the gate. She waited until a electronic voice boomed from the small box.
[AND YOUR BUSINESS HERE IS?]
"Um... I'm Panam." She said nervously thinking that given recent events that would be all she needed to say and sure enough. It didn't, instead there was a long hollow silence, "H-hello?"
A different much deeper voice chimed next with a long sign that crackled through.
[I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. WHATEVER YOU HAVE TO SAY, SAY IT.]
Panam bent her knees hunching over to level near the mic nervously picking at her fingernails, "Well... um... I want to speak to you, personally, face to face."
There was no response. She waited contemplating wether to ring again before the gates abruptly opened wide slowly, as Panam is reminded how rich Reina's father is. Behind the tall matte black gates was a floral courtyard, and walking to the door she passed peacocks and bunnies wandering about. "Reina's favourite", Panam thought to herself as she felt something catch in her throat.
She knocked three times at the decorated dark wooden doors with a brief pause, "Ariyúme." The word rolled off her tongue as she entered announcing her presence as per etiquette. Ahead was a lone round table, and beside it standing anticipating Panam's entrance was a much taller lady in an intricately embroidered grey dress. She threw one arm out from behind her back with a open hand gesturing to doorway which led to a room, her head faced it too with serious chisled face, "Avoid the kitchen just ahead of here, take a left, walk straight and he'll be awaiting you."
Panam nodded more to herself than anything as she repeated those words in her head, admiring the woman's well defined jaw then walked off. She put down the news paper down at the table then into the next room. The house was made entirely of mahogany and white granite. The walls were ornate and carved in a wavy patterns. The hallway to the final room had a wide long painting to and fro of a battle with an army of peasants rushing in to the near centre, in a battles with what looks to be guardsmen ending with a bright yellow crown. She entered the next room half realizing it. The walls carved in to hold books around a lit fireplace and 3 blue chairs filled the room, that looked more like sofas than anything and a table with a chess board.
Sitting in one of those chairs sunken slightly into it's cushions was an old man, in his 50's to Panam's guess. He wore baggy cloths but still managed to make it look classic, his leg over the other, head resting in his hand and a bottle of wine a quarter empty. His eyes, they looked defeated as he stared vacantly at the dying embers, he sighed a long and hard sigh with a breathy murmur, "take a seat..."
She eyed the 2 seats vancant but she still stood, her heart pounding in her chest feeling the air swelled with dread and melancholy, finally she decide not to think anymore but act. She walked to him kneeling on both knees besides the chair, "I-I wanted to let you know- I mean I came here to say that um... that it- it was my fault..." snot built in her nose as she sniffled as she felt tear flowed in her eyes, "And- and- and- I should have took her home earlier... I should have stopped those men- and it should've been me... It's all- my fault..." she sniffled again and sobbed incoherently then some more, "AndI'msosorry" she said over and over again.
He still started at the fire dancing as Panam lowered her sobs enough to hear his voice, "I can't forgive you, no how could I..." she closed her eyes holding back more tears nodding, "It's not your fault... you don't need forgiveness, I do. And I'm afraid there's no one to forgive me anymore."
Panam slowly opened her eyes in confusion letting the last tear flow, she sniffed the air a few more ties, "What?"
"Sit down." he commanded once again, and this time she did picking the nearest seat, "My sister, is dead, my wife is dead and now my precious angel is dead now too." he shrugged in finality, "I'm the last of Gentry family, I have nothing to show for it." he said before taking a long sip of a fine and pungent wine.
"Do you know who did this? Tell me- actually tell the police then we can finally get justice for what they did."
"Mmmh... nope, these people aren't regular thugs in the street. In any case it doesn't matter, what's done is done. I don't have it in me, the energy."
Panam stared at him now through her narrowed brows, "What... what are you talking about, you have money and power j-just get a good lawyer, bride the bloody cops if you have to-"
"-No, I have money... but I have no power. I just own a wood works company."
Panam leaned forward from her seat, "Tell me who they are, where they are. I want justice, I'll get it for you."
"why?" He shifted in his seat and lean back in it.
at first Panam looked around the room then back to him, "I'm not giving up, if the police won't I will kill them... I swear to the Queen, I swear it on my life I will."
"Listen girl, you do not understand how weak and insignificant you are. Don't even try to think of something as idiotic as that, and on my daughter... I am telling you, you will die." he looked at Panam ferociously with his ember eyes as he lowered down his voice in a growl, "Don't. be. stupid. I don't want your parents to even feel half of what I feel, now leave."
Panam was silent as gritting her teeth as she looked around the room with glossy eyes, she stood up and stormed off.
"Wait..." he called out as he stood out from his seat putting a wine bottle on the table, "Listen, take this." He walks to her scribbling on a peice of paper.
Panam stop glaring at the hands at word that thrust a folded paper now to her, "If you... if you will try doing it anyways, you will go here first. You will learn. Tell him Gallache sent you."
PART 2
POV: Panam
The pile of metal piece organised in heaps and some machinery among them littered to area within, the wind blowing created an eerie whistle.
"Hello!" I shouted, "Is there anyone there?" And no response.
In front of me was a tall wire fence making up the walls and the entrance of it with an old whithered warning sign that detailed it being an electic fence.
Looking to the distance past the scrap the was a cottage house, window covered inside with curtains shown a hue of orange light.
I looked around me, this place was quite a distance from town and high up in the steel hills showed me just how far I hiked. My legs already began to be swore. The sun was beginning to descend and the city lights shown like stars of their own.
The dirt road was empty as far as I could see.
I looked back and began shout again while looking for a way in until only the twilight shone at the horizon.
"What do you want from me." The deep dry reverberating sound came from my right.
A tall broad old man stood behind me.
Donning a worn overcoat, pants and leather boots. He had a double barrel shotgun in his right hand, a bloody axe on the left and a large bag slumped over his shoulder.
Hunched over his eyes were peeled observing me tensely taking quick side glances around me.
"Are you alone?"
at a loss for word seeing the blood on the axe and gun, I shook my head reflexively.
"Are you here for me?" His hands griped tight the two weapons at his side.
I raised my hand towards him before him. "N-n-no I was... w-wanted to see someone." I could feel the cold sweat bead on my face.
"And who might that be?" He seemed cautious, giving a dangerous look, eyes gleam in the fading sunlight.
"My uhm... friends' dad... Mr. Gallache, he said I should come to the guy in there..." I pointed behind me to the house.
After a brief breath I continued, "He said I should come here."
He cocked his chin up seeming puzzled then slumped relaxing his shoulders.
"Well you found who you're looking for. Why are you here."
"I... I want to... to..." the unspoken words were much harder to speak now, tell it to a complete stranger.
"Hmph, call me Konstantine. I am curious what you want with me?" His voice seemed light this time, and I was silent.
He scratched his beard in thought, "I'm going to stop pretending like I don't know you now, listen Panam right." I flinched, took a deep breath. "You should just stop right now, go home... last chance to back away now... you're one step away from a normal life and wherever this path which will be your death."
My head didn't process the words, coming from one ear out the other as I took a light consideration tilting my head to the side.
"...understand? Oi. Are you even listening to me?"
I bowed my head, "I'll take my chances. I'm sorry but I don't think I could just walk away now."
Konstantine sighed with a nod walking past me putting his gun between his armpit taking a key to open the girthy looking lock from an equally so chain constricting around the gate.
"It's okay to cry."
I said shifting to the left of me for him to see half of my face.
"That's what the cop lady told me and I've doing that too often now, and I don't feel any better. I'm just..." He stood facing me.
Konstantine gave a heavy sigh lightly tapping the blunt end of the axe on his knee, "I don't care about your sob story or your excuses you tell yourself. I can help ya, but I can tell ya straight. the gang and their leader? They will never be caught. If you really want pay back, you gotta kill 'em with your own two hands."
The air froze and grew heavy as his words left his mouth, a cold chill ran down my spine, I looked down at my feet. The reality of everything started to weigh on my shoulders.
An object fell before me clattering on the dirt, it was the shotgun.
He raised the free hand to his chest tapping it, the other outstretched axe in hand.
"Too bad I'm gonna have to kill you." He raised his axe on his shoulder and walked towards me.
"W-wait, wait!?" Confusion of the sudden event took me by surprise.
The daunting figure approached me, anxiety and fear grew within me grew at exponential rate with each step and cursed glare.
I could feel slight tremors in my knees it feels like my body is being crushed.
With a rise of his axe in the air it fell ready to cleave.
PART 3
I took quick strides along the middle of the road, the streets were empty with no cars in sight the houses were dark and quite except for the pubs, fast food restaurants and 24/7 stores. The sun's light long receded, though the streetlights and moon lit my path, it still had darkness looming in abundance.
Clutched tightly in my arms is a shotgun wrapped in thick cloth I found in the trash on my way down the mountain, my hands won't stop shaking at the thought of what I had done echoes in my head.
I shot him...
Somewhere in my mind I hoped the it was a bluff, but the axe almost split my skull when deftly evaded taking the shot. With clumsy legs fell to the ground.
"He was going to kill me if I didn't." I tried to rationalise what I done, but didn't even smudge away my unease.
Psycho old man, what was he thinking I wouldn't do it for the life of me?
Regardless I still killed someone, that won't fly, From what I hear from the TV, I'll be lucky if they guillie me. Atleast they don't do it in public anymore. The gun has my fingerprints on it now, I need to hide it somewhere.
What will the Mr. Gallache do if- one step at a time.
I can't help but remember those moments.
He fell to the ground, writhing silently, he pressed on his lead filled chest, then looked back at me with wide eyed surprise.
I just took the gun and ran as fast as I could.
After I gained some composure about what to do I pull out my phone and tell my parents that I'm not coming home tonight.
They obviously chided me telling me to come home worried but...
Where do I hide the gun… what do I do with the body?
The case is still in the chamber and there's a bullet in the other chamber and two of others slipped at the stock. I'll just bury it inside a box somewhere then. And the body. The body I'll burn.
I decided in burying it near a construction site.
I bought gas and a lighter lighter nervously to cremate him, spread his ashes and crushing his bones to dust too.
Thinking about killing and burning a person make me feel like I'll vomit anytime now.
Once I returned, his body was gone. A shiver went up my spine.
A faint light shown in the house seemed brighter, the gate now wide open and drops of blood in the sand. I felt a cold sweat run down my spine following it, my feet felt weightless.
Opening the door was a tall old man he had a worn pants, leather boots, overcoat unbuttoned revealing his hairy torso and a thick black porous vest on the table.
They had holes spread around the body and he was patting away the wounds sustained.
He glanced my way in a seemingly subdued manner saying, "I didn't really think you would pull the trigger like that. You will die later."
What the hell is this! Bastard made me think he was dead! That I killed him! I silently as I relaxed my shoulders. Konstantine took a cursory glance at ends of my arms seeing the gas and lighter in hand.
"What are those for?"
"I thought you were dead, so I was going to turn you to ash." mentally exhausted I blankly said, honestly this all feels unreal.
"Really? You bastard, you fit right in." So he goes.
He throws a soaked cotton piece In a bin. The bullet holes seemed shallow but painful yet he seemed be shrugging it off just well.
He leans forward from his seat "You may think I'm crazy but sometimes people are full of crap, and if you got crap feeling after that. Don't worry you won't get used to it." He chuckled.
I was seriously considering killing him in my head, I wished I had the shotgun now and see if he can chew lead too. I would need to hold back the urge however as I threw down the gas canister and light to the floor with a thud, "I don't like the games you play old man."
He came down in his joyous laughter, "Okay, okay. I help you. Leave, be prepared for tomorrow evening." with finality he tossed a phone to me, clearly old and withering away at this point, "So we can keep in touch."
I nodded before finally leaving that forsaken cabin alive and exhausted with a long hard road that is going to take her hours to reach, so she better start moving now.