The house remained eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of distant electricity and the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the shadows. The body at the bottom of the stairs was twisted, lifeless, and rapidly cooling. Lucas stood over it, the house phone in his hand, his eyes scanning the scene with a strange mix of detachment and dark amusement.
As he knelt down beside Violet's corpse, his fingers hovered over her neck, checking for a pulse he knew wasn't there. Her skin was icy, her expression frozen in the wide-eyed horror of her final moments. The sheer absurdity of the situation struck him—there he was, playing the concerned son when the truth was so far removed from the performance he was about to give.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, almost involuntary, as he realized how utterly pointless it was to check for a pulse on a body that was so clearly beyond saving. The thought itself was ridiculous, like something out of a dark comedy. "Guess she finally took a break from talking." he muttered under his breath.
His smile widened as he let out a low, dark chuckle, unable to resist the twisted humor of it all. The sound echoed slightly in the quiet hallway, a grim counterpart to the earlier screams that had filled the air. He nudged Violet's body with the tip of his shoe, watching as it shifted slightly, her once formidable presence now reduced to a pathetic heap on the floor. The way her eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, the shock forever etched into her features, was almost comical in its own macabre way.
But Lucas knew he couldn't linger in this moment of private amusement for too long. He had a role to play, a performance to deliver that would seal the final act of this twisted little drama. Straightening up, he allowed the smile to fade, replaced by an expression of genuine panic. His breath quickened, the adrenaline making his hands tremble as he lifted the phone and dialed 911.
The phone clicked, and an operator's calm voice came through the receiver. Without missing a beat, Lucas inhaled sharply, his voice quivering with a perfectly crafted mix of terror and despair.
"H-Hello?" he stammered, his breath hitching as though he were on the verge of breaking down. "Please, I need help! M-My mom—she fell down the stairs, and she's not breathing! I don't know what to do!"
The operator immediately responded, her tone soothing and controlled, asking him to stay calm and provide his location. Lucas let out a shuddering sob, as if barely able to keep it together. He rattled off the address, his words tumbling over one another in a rush of panic.
"P-Please, you have to hurry," he cried, his voice cracking. "I-I don't think she's going to make it!"
The operator assured him that help was on the way, instructing him to stay on the line. Lucas's chest heaved with the effort of feigned hyperventilation, tears streaking his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if to hold back the flood of emotions, though in reality, his mind was as sharp as ever, calculating each response.
He dropped to his knees beside Violet's body once more, the phone clutched in his hand, the operator's voice now a distant hum in his ear. For a brief moment, Lucas allowed himself to savor the thrill of what he had just done, the rush of power that came with it. But then, just as quickly, he buried it beneath the mask of a devastated, traumatized boy.
As he cried and pleaded into the phone, his gaze remained fixed on Violet's lifeless form, the dark smile still lingering at the corners of his lips. The performance was flawless, but deep down, Lucas was already thinking ahead, considering what his next move would be after the paramedics arrived.
Lucas knelt for a moment over Violet's lifeless body , the house phone still clutched in his hand. The smile had faded from his lips, replaced by a focused, calculating expression. He knew that simply calling the police wasn't enough—he needed to look the part of a devastated son, someone so stricken with grief that no one would suspect him of anything more than a tragic accident.
________
It wasn't long before they arrived.
The faint wail of sirens gradually grew louder, cutting through the oppressive silence of the house. Lucas remained by Violet's body, his expression one of sheer panic, as if the weight of the tragedy had only just begun to sink in. The operator was still on the line, her voice soothing as she assured him that help was on the way. Lucas could hear her, but he wasn't really listening. His mind was already crafting the next phase of his performance.
He knew that the police and paramedics would be there soon, and when they arrived, they had to find a scene so convincing that no one would ever doubt his innocence.
The distant sirens crescendoed, and moments later, the harsh red and blue lights of emergency vehicles bathed the front of the house in a flashing, almost surreal glow. Lucas took a deep breath, letting it hitch in his throat for effect, before closing his eyes and forcing a fresh wave of tears to well up. By the time the first responders were at the door, he was ready.
A loud knock echoed through the house, followed by the sound of the door being pushed open. "Police! Emergency services!" a voice called out. Lucas turned, his face a picture of devastation, as two paramedics rushed in, followed closely by several uniformed police officers.
"Over here!" Lucas cried, his voice breaking as he waved them over. "Please, she—she fell, and she's not breathing!"
The paramedics immediately dropped to their knees beside Violet's body, their movements swift and efficient as they checked for a pulse, but it was clear from their expressions that there was nothing they could do. One of them shook his head subtly at the other, and Lucas let out a strangled sob, his hands flying to his face as if he couldn't bear the sight.
A female officer, noticing his distress, stepped forward and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. She was in her mid-thirties, with kind eyes that softened as she looked at him. "Hey, hey," she murmured, her voice low and comforting. "It's okay. We're here now, and we're going to take care of everything."
Lucas looked up at her, his eyes wide and brimming with tears. "I-I tried to help her," he stammered, his voice quivering. "I didn't know what to do… I just… I couldn't save her!"
The officer squeezed his shoulder gently. "You did everything you could," she assured him, her tone full of sympathy. "These things happen so fast… It's not your fault."
Lucas nodded, sniffling as he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "She was… she was just at the top of the stairs," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And then she… she fell. I don't even know how it happened. One minute she was there, and the next…"
The officer pulled him into a gentle embrace, rubbing his back soothingly. "I know this is hard," she said softly. "But you're not alone, okay? We're going to get through this together."
Lucas clung to her, his body trembling as he let out another sob. "I just wish I could have done something," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Anything…"
"You did what you could," the officer repeated, her voice firm but kind. "You called for help, and that's the most important thing. You're a strong young man, and you're going to get through this."
Lucas nodded into her shoulder, his tears soaking into her uniform. He allowed himself to be comforted, to be held, knowing that every gesture, every tear, was only adding to the credibility of his performance. He was the picture of a heartbroken son, shattered by the sudden loss of his mother.
As the paramedics finally called it, pronouncing Violet dead at the scene, Lucas let out a wail that echoed through the house, the sound so raw and filled with despair that even the seasoned officers exchanged glances, their faces etched with sympathy.
The female officer continued to hold him, whispering soothing words in his ear as he cried, her presence a steady anchor in the midst of the chaos. "You're going to be okay," she murmured. "We're going to take care of everything. You're not alone."
Lucas let her words wash over him, every sob, every tear calculated to perfection.
The room seemed to blur around him as he buried his face deeper into the officer's shoulder, letting out another heart-wrenching sob. Lucas began to shake in the officers shirt as if crying but Lucas tried to hold it together.The sobs he let out was awfully hilarious to him and the fact they believed him made him want to burst down in laughter.
As Lucas allowed himself to be held, he caught sight of another figure entering the house—a detective. Lucas's heart skipped a beat as recognition set in. It was the same detective who had questioned him weeks ago. The man's eyes widened slightly as he took in the scene, and Lucas cursed silently in his mind. This wasn't part of the plan.
But he couldn't afford to break character now. Lucas pulled away from the officer, his face crumpling into a mask of grief and confusion. "I didn't know what to do," he sobbed. "I was so scared."
The detective approached, his gaze lingering on Lucas for a moment before shifting to Violet's body. He knelt down, examining the scene with a practiced eye. After a few moments, he straightened up and walked over to Lucas.
"She was drunk, wasn't she?" the detective asked, his tone gentle but probing. "She must have lost her balance and fallen."
Lucas blinked up at him, his lower lip trembling. "Y-Yes," he stammered. "She had been drinking... I-I didn't think she would..."
The detective nodded, his expression sympathetic. "It was an accident, son. There was nothing you could have done."
Lucas nodded, letting out another choked sob. "I just wish I could have stopped her."
The detective placed a reassuring hand on Lucas's shoulder. "You did everything you could. This wasn't your fault."
---
The house buzzed with the frenzy of emergency responders. Their voices blended into a mix of professional efficiency and subdued urgency as paramedics completed their grim task, loading Violet's body into the truck. Amidst the turmoil, Lucas clung to his role, expertly masking his true feelings.
The sudden burst of the front door sliced through the murmur of voices. Dimitri entered, a small figure whose presence commanded immediate attention. His eyes flicked briefly over Violet's lifeless form before zeroing in on Lucas.
Ignoring the two policemen stationed near the entrance, Dimitri slipped past them with a smooth, almost casual motion. The officers attempted to block him, but Dimitri's demeanor—unassuming yet insistent—caused them to hesitate. He moved with an understated authority that seemed to bypass their scrutiny. His gaze was fixed solely on Lucas.
Lucas felt a chill of dread as Dimitri approached. Despite the chaotic scene, Dimitri moved with a peculiar blend of calm and purpose, his focus unnervingly singular. The two policemen flanking Lucas were momentarily caught off guard by Dimitri's approach. They shifted their attention, but Dimitri was already at Lucas's side.
Dimitri's eyes roved over Lucas. His expression was a mask of cool calculation, sending a shiver down Lucas's spine. "Lucas," he said, his voice smooth and chillingly calm. "It's good to see you in one piece."
Lucas swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice steady. "D-Dimitri," he stammered, trying to sound genuinely surprised and distressed. "What are you doing here?"
Dimitri's gaze momentarily flicked to Violet's body before returning to Lucas, a glimmer of dark amusement in his eyes. "I came to check on you," he said, stepping closer. His tone was laced with a disturbing mixture of sympathy and control. "But it seems you've been quite busy."
Without giving Lucas a chance to respond, Dimitri closed the distance between them. His movements were deliberate and intimate, wrapping his arms around Lucas in a tight embrace. The sudden contact was jarring; Lucas found himself enveloped by Dimitri's smaller, yet firm frame.
Dimitri's breath was warm against Lucas's neck as he drew him in, his hold both possessive and comforting. The gesture contrasted starkly with the cold, clinical atmosphere of the crime scene. Dimitri's breath was deep and deliberate, as though he was inhaling Lucas's very essence, savoring the proximity.
Lucas stiffened but had no choice but to accept the embrace. Dimitri's heartbeat resonated against his chest, a steady rhythm that seemed to amplify Lucas's own racing pulse. Dimitri's arms tightened around him, a gesture that was meant to be protective.
As Dimitri buried his face in the crook o. Lucas could feel Dimitri's presence completely surrounding him and he liked it a little.
When Dimitri finally pulled back slightly, his eyes remained locked onto Lucas with an intense gaze. "I'm here for you," he said softly, his voice carrying an undertone of something darker than mere comfort.
The two people who were by Lucas side before, seeing the display of intimacy, assumed they were friends and stepped aside, leaving Dimitri and Lucas alone. Once they were gone, Lucas leaned in closer, as if seeking comfort. But as his head rested against Dimitri's chest, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Don't screw this up," he warned, the edge in his tone unmistakable.
Dimitri's expression remained inscrutable, but a flicker of understan
ding passed through his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied softly, his voice carrying a subtle menace.
.