C | Chapter 11.2 | Conclusion | Crack in the Perm

Ian’s memory of his mother was small and fragile. She’d always left with fearful, melancholic eyes. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. Don’t be too afraid. Everything will be alright soon.”

Had all those charity activities really been her doing? Ian thought that church had taken more of his mother’s life than he had. But only six or seven people from the church attended her funeral. They looked at him with the same unfamiliarity he felt towards them. Perhaps his mother was also a stranger to them.

As an immigrant in a foreign land, his mother likely didn’t have many options. Ian couldn’t deny that she had used charity work as an excuse to avoid things, to run away and look the other way. Yet she always returned home and faced him. She probably found it hard to ask for help. As Leo said, in this small town, a judge was a dangerous and powerful authority.

“Mom… Mom…”

Leo pulled Ian close and held him as Ian bit down on his trembling lips. Burying his face in Ian’s neck, Leo muttered quietly, “Ian, I’m scared.”

“Mom… Mom… Leo, my mom… our mom…”

“Ian, what do I do? I’m so scared that something worse happened to you than you remember. I’m so terrified… what do I do?”

This time, it was Leo Sebastian’s turn to bite down on his lips.

“Your mom… she might not have committed suicide or gone missing. She might have been murdered. Here. You said you saw it, didn’t you? She fell from the second-floor railing. Maybe… maybe someone did it because of the evidence she had…”

Darkness seeped into the burned, blackened house like water. Even the weak sunlight that had barely illuminated the study through the scorched windows was fading into shadows. And then, as the last bit of light disappeared…

Step. Step. Step.

The unfamiliar sound of footsteps echoed through the dark, empty house, excluding Ian and Leo. They raised their heads simultaneously, still clinging to each other, sharing the desperate fear welling up from the depths of their hearts.

“Who… Tim?”

“Ian, shh!”

But it was too late. The footsteps were headed directly for the study. Ian and Leo tried to open the window and escape, but it was also too late.

Snap, bang!

A bullet whizzed past the back of Ian’s head, shattering the blackened glass.

“Stay where you are.”

A spine-chilling voice, familiar and cruel. Ian knew exactly whose voice it was.

“Pretty One.”

Ian stopped in his tracks and slowly turned his head. Behind him stood a man with a gun and, beside him, Lloyd Gillen. Lloyd stared at Ian and, as if in greeting, spoke with an almost friendly tone, “Well, well… you really survived it all to meet here like this, huh?”

“Uncle… are you… really going to kill me…?”

“You might as well have died in that fire. It would have been simpler. No more troubles between us, you know?”

He spoke with the same tone one would use to say, “I should have stopped by earlier.” Which made it clear he didn’t mean it at all.

“You… you started the fire?”

“What?”

Lloyd Gillen chuckled. The smile on his handsome face almost looked gentle. Which made it clear he wasn’t gentle at all.

“Oh, I didn’t start it myself. I don’t do things that leave evidence.”

“…Did you… have someone else do it?”

“I don’t leave evidence.”

Ian stared hard into his green eyes, wrapped in darkness. At first, he had thought the color suited his neat appearance. And even now, it was a good match. Lloyd Gillen’s eyes were like reptilian scales.

“Did you… kill my mom that way too? Did you have someone kill her?”

Lloyd paused for a beat before answering, and Ian could tell he had been momentarily caught off guard.

“There’s no evidence.”

“No, that’s not true. I saw it.”

“You’re lying.”

Those cold, green eyes curved with delight, like the cold-blooded predator he was. He enjoyed playing games he couldn’t lose. No matter how desperately Ian struggled, Lloyd would win in the end. It had been a bit of a hassle, but now it was time to finish things with an easy victory.

“You didn’t see anything.”

“No, I saw it. I saw her body. Her neck was broken… her head was shattered… there was blood everywhere…”

Ian’s voice faded in pain, his trembling tone reaching Lloyd Gillen’s ears with a hint of pity.

“Well, maybe you did see something,”

Lloyd savored his victory slowly. Probably the reason he became a lawyer was for moments like these. In the courtroom, he loved the thrill of verbally destroying some no-name lawyer from a third-rate college with a mere 10% chance of winning.

“But even if you did see it, that’s nothing but a lie. You’re mentally ill, Pretty One.”

“I’m not… I’m not anymore. I remember everything now.”

“Your record says otherwise.”

“Records aren’t always the truth.”

“They are in court.”

“Life isn’t all about courtrooms.”

“My, my. Listen to Pretty One talk.”

Lloyd let out a loud, mocking laugh.

“Pretty One, you don’t need to try so hard. Just lie down, strip, and make that sexy face like you did when you were young. That was the best look on you.”

“W-what… did you say…?”

Ian’s eyes widened in horror, and his whole body shook. Leo clutched him tightly by the side.

“Ian…”

But Leo was just as horrified.

“W-what… photos?”

Had his stepfather done more than just rape him? Had he done something even more horrific, finding rape alone insufficient? Even after remembering why his stepfather had been killed, Ian was still in the dark. Could this reason be what Lloyd Gillen was alluding to?

“So, you didn’t actually remember everything.”

With a flick of his eyes, Lloyd signaled. The man with the gun nudged them to stand closer together. Leo gripped Ian’s hand tightly, and Lloyd watched with a meaningful smile.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Don’t be so snappy. When an adult asks a question, a well-behaved child answers politely. He’s too young to be your boyfriend, isn’t he? You need someone more my age.”

Even a trivial comment like that made Ian’s stomach churn with disgust.

“You’re a filthy… monster.”

“What? My, my. Do you even remember how much I adored you back then?”

Lloyd Gillen started recounting his “fond” memories as if they were amusing stories.

“Those were good times. You were ten… no, maybe a bit older. You always looked younger than your age, so you were probably around twelve. Marcus and I took photos of you then. Those were some good times. You were a natural Pretty One. Just a little coaxing, and you’d make such a perfect face. Those days…,”

Lloyd shivered with delight, his face glowing in the darkness. Unable to bear it anymore, Ian shouted.

“Stop it! Stop it!”

“There were no pictures with as good a response as yours. Those days… I was always excited. They were truly enjoyable times. But then Marcus suddenly said he wouldn’t take any more pictures. Said he didn’t want to share anymore, or something like that. Ridiculous. You were still young, and we could’ve had a lot more fun with you. Anyway, that was…”

“Stop! What about my mom? Wasn’t abusing me enough? Why did you kill her too? Why?”

The mention of Ian’s mother brought an abrupt change to Lloyd’s face. His expression became cruel, blending a smirk with unfiltered contempt.

“Oh, that crazy woman came to me, talking about evidence and lawsuits. Marcus barely let me enjoy myself. And then, years after his death, she suddenly showed up, causing a fuss. Apparently, she’d only recently found out that I’d been involved, but it was all over by then. You, Pretty One, had already lost your mind and didn’t remember a thing. The only issue was her.”

“Don’t talk about my mom like that!”

“Shut up and listen! You’re the one who asked.”

Lloyd’s voice suddenly became harsh, spitting curses mixed with frustration, signaling his loss of composure. Leo tightened his grip on Ian, who was trembling.

“Did she think everything ends with death? That I’d be dragged out of my grave to pay? Crazy bitch. She should’ve gone to hell with Marcus. Why bring her crap to me….”

Lloyd’s face twisted hideously. His green eyes glinted fiercely in the dark. If hell was where his stepfather belonged, there was no word to describe where Lloyd Gillen stood now.

“Well, that’s how it went. But because you woke up, I had to get rid of the body quickly. I tossed it in Marcus’s darkroom… there’s a fridge there, so we could keep up the pretense of her being missing. I had the cops stage it by crashing her car into the river. But keeping a body around isn’t safe, so I had to buy this house, too. I don’t like killing Pretty One. But even burning the house didn’t do the job…”

The claim that he hadn’t wanted to kill Ian was undoubtedly a lie. Lloyd Gillen’s tone, as he laid out the brutal truth peppered with little lies for effect, revealed his satisfaction. He was genuinely relieved. After purchasing this burnt house for an absurd amount, the first thing he’d done was dispose of Mrs. Winchell’s body. The fixer he hired from the dark web had supposedly buried her 100 miles away.

“Ah, feels good to say it out loud. Occupational hazard. Standing in front of people makes me want to run my mouth. What can I say? I’m a lawyer. Lawyers seek the truth, but they prefer reasonable outcomes.”

Lloyd mimicked the act of banging a gavel with satisfaction and ordered the man with the gun.

“Bang bang bang. I sentence them to death. Kill them both!”

But unlike the verdict, the execution wasn’t immediate. The man with the gun shook his head slowly.

“Not yet.”

“…What?”

“You said he was Pretty One. Killing him right away would be a waste.”

Lloyd scowled in disgust.

“I don’t get it. He’s already nineteen.”

“But he’s still Pretty One.”

The man, who had been silent until now, bared his teeth in a grin. His smile, stretched across uneven teeth, looked like the residue left in a sewer, the last filthiest dregs of humanity.

“To me, he’s still pretty.”

Lloyd Gillen shook his head in disbelief.

“Fine. Do as you want. But kill the other one first.”

“Of course.”

As the gun was raised, Ian stepped in front of Leo.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Who do you think you’re killing first?”

“Ian…”

Leo grabbed Ian’s shoulder with a trembling voice, his whole body shaking. “Don’t do this, Ian. I’m scared. It really feels like we’re gonna get shot.”

For Leo, this darkness still didn’t seem real. But Ian knew how quick and easy death could come once a gun was in someone’s hand.

They needed to buy time. Lloyd Gillen didn’t know that Tim Hogan, who had gone out to get pizza, would be back soon. If they could hold out until he returned, another opportunity might arise.

Dying here was not an option. Ian had something he absolutely had to accomplish. He had to save the Revenant. He would hand over the evidence hidden in the music box to the police and confess that he was his stepfather’s killer. Ian wasn’t sure if the evidence that had stayed in the fire would still be intact, but just knowing there was a camera should be enough to say something.

Ian forced himself to calm down, pushing back against the fear that kept creeping in.

“I can’t fall apart here. No, Leo. Just wait. I swear I’ll save you.”

“Yesterday, someone else tried to kill me. Said there was a bounty on my head. That… that was your doing too, wasn’t it?”

“Because you’re so damn troublesome. Why did you go to the bank anyway? Now I’ve got a major hassle on my hands because of you. Do you even know what kind of work a kid like you causes me when an audit gets launched?”

“You killed Mom… and then me… all because you…”

Suddenly, Leo shouted from behind Ian’s shoulder.

“It was you who killed Marcus Winchell, wasn’t it? You got mad because he wouldn’t let you take any more photos, so you killed him, didn’t you? Tell me I’m right!”

“What?”

Lloyd Gillen turned to the man holding the gun, acting as if such nonsense didn’t even deserve a response.

“Just get rid of that quickly. We’re wasting unnecessary time because of your stubbornness. Once you deal with that, take Pretty One and get him out of here. That would be best.”

Then Lloyd added, as if it went without saying, that the man would know well enough how to handle the body. The man with the gun moved forward, approaching Ian and Leo. The moment he reached out to grab Leo, Ian blocked his path with his body.

“Leo, run!”

“Ian!”

“Hurry! Go and call the cops!”

Ian clung with all his strength to the hand holding the gun.

“Just go!”

“Ian!”

Even though Ian told him to run, Leo couldn’t just abandon him. While Leo was calling out helplessly, Lloyd Gillen approached.

“What are you doing? Can’t you handle a couple of brats properly?”

Lloyd seized Ian from behind. Ian struggled, but with both hands on the gun, he couldn’t shake off Lloyd. Holding Ian by the waist, Lloyd leaned in, breathing close to his ear.

“Pretty One.”

“…Ugh!”

Each bit of Lloyd’s warmth against Ian’s back made him shudder with disgust. Ian finally flinched, losing his grip.

“No… Leo!”

In that instant, as the gun slid from his fingers and the man aimed it at Leo, a shot rang out.

Bang!

“Ian!”

Thud. A body, freshly shot, collapsed onto the ground.