11. Vlad

It's already late in the evening when I reach the churchyard. With the time difference and flight, he must have called me early morning, but Grigory looks like he hasn't slept in fear of something else happening. My feet pound against the earth holding the dead until I've passed the tree and see the damage they've done. Her headstone is smashed. Spiderweb cracks spread over the marble and large chunks sit heavily on the grass. But the cunts have dug up random holes around where I laid her to rest.

I've felt pain once in my life. True, visceral, earth-shattering pain the day I came home, and Vanya wouldn't wake up. But this is different, it's anger at how little respect she's been given. It doesn't fucking mean shit who I am, she is innocent. All of the holes are centered around the sight I buried her, and the only thing stopping them from reaching her is the fact I planted the headstone on the exact spot. It goes deep into the ground, and they have only managed to break the stone rather than dislodge it fully.

Not looking away from the plot, my tone is harsh, one Vanya wouldn't recognize.

"Who was it?"

Grigory gives me a tight-lipped smile and gestures for me to follow him. If he caught the fuckers, it won't make me grateful. He should have made sure this never fucking happened.Following him into his little church office, my usual commentary about not bursting into flames is missing and he doesn't try to make conversation. He just sits me down at his desk and silently lets the security footage show the masked fuckers running towards the bitch who used to be our neighbor as they run, seeing the security lights turn on.

I should have killed her that night. Or any of the ones before when she'd spew her shit in front of my brothers. But they were young and don't remember, I forgave her shit because I was a kid. As a man, I won't make the mistake.Every fucking thing she has done had been forgotten, she was nothing, but she was involved in the two worst moments of my life.

The chair hits the stone wall as I push back with more force than I anticipated. He keeps his fucking mouth shut. A smart man, or his connection to God, is saving his life and allowing intervention drowning him out. Or he's dumber than I thought as he blocks my path and meets my eyes.

"Don't do it, Vladik, you will only taint your soul."

My hand wraps around his throat, and I lift him off his feet as I drag him closer. The tips of his shoes scrape against the old stone floor, and I feel death wash over me again.

"Do not get involved, old man. You will answer to me too."

This motherfucker is supposed to protect her and he fucking failed.

His face turns red as I keep squeezing, but he doesn't try to fight me physically as he croaks, "Don't, my boy, think about your?—"

I cut him off, squeezing tighter, and my blood roars in my ears as my voice booms off the walls.

"I fucking pay you to make sure she's safe. You don't give me your self-righteous fucking bullshit in a house of lies!" His aged wrinkly hand weakly taps against my forearm as I ask, "Why the fuck weren't the security lights on in the first place?!"

Something stops me killing him, and I take a step back, letting him go. He chokes down air around his weak fucking answer.

"You asked for there not to be any attention on her." I failed her twice. I keep fucking failing her. "It would be a beacon, and your mother and father would know where she is."

It made sense when I said it, now it doesn't. They wouldn't give a fuck, they never did. They kept their children as a means for power or payment. The dead wouldn't serve any purpose. My face contorts with disgust as I step forward, ready to expel all the anger inside of me and spit out, "Fuck you, old man."

Grigory hardens and admonishes me as though he's any fucking authority figure in my life.

"Do not curse in the house of God."

Everything hardens, my tone, my muscles, my resolve for death.

"Fuck you both. When has your God ever helped me?!"

But he doesn't react to it as he rubs across his throat and calmly asks, "Who do you think put me in your path all those years ago?"

He's an old fuck who needed a piss in the middle of the night and trying to pass it off as some divine intervention that doesn't exist. His eyes soften, showing more creases.

"I woke up with a sense of loss so deep and powerful that it ached through my bones. I didn't know you would be beyond the doors, and you may have become this, but you will always be a grieving boy."

"I'm not one of your sheep to lead into the lies you tell yourself to feel like there's a purpose in the world. The real purpose is kill or be killed, use or be used."

He shakes his head and steps in my path again. His shoulders straighten and he meets my eyes, yet a-fucking-gain.

"You do not frighten me, Vladik, you frighten yourself."

My fist raises, hitting the stone wall beside his head as I change course at the last second.

"Do I look afraid to you?!"

He nods once and adds more fuel to the fire of my rage.

"Yes. The same you were that night, even with blood on you, and your face was frozen. But you weren't shaking due to the cold or to soothe V?—"

"Don't say her name."

My jaw is going to snap. She's too precious for unworthy tongues and I won't allow anyone to taint her name with their sins. He holds his hands up, acquiescing and alters his little speech.

"You were a child, a child born in the house of evil, but you don't need to feed yourself poison to become immune. Let your anger go."

Fuck him. He doesn't know shit. I'm not weak or incapable of taking every pound of flesh that was laid to waste, that was robbed from me, stopped from growing beside me and infusing my life. Even the memory of Vanya has been taken from me because life is a cruel fucking bitch, fracturing the small amounts of time I had with her.

He must see my resolve because he steps aside as I give a parting shot. "You should write your own book. The do-gooders would love it and make plaques to hang in their bathrooms."

There's no argument as he shakes his head, and I know my first target when I leave the church. The old fucking bitch sees me as soon as I step out of the gates. Her nose is pressed to her window, and she backs away upon seeing me. Her lights all turn off as though I'll decide against my anger in favor of letting her sleep.Delusional old bitch.

My lips move up, but there's no joy in my world. I don't knock on the door when I reach her house and let myself in. The lock isn't even secure and snaps against the wood with the weight of my rage slamming into it. The low streetlights behind me cast a faint shadow into the dark room and I see her. She's sat in the dark like a fucking idiot and holds herself rigid as though I'm the predator.

"Who was it?"

Her flinch at my tone is visible in the low lights, and I flick them back on so she can't hide. There's no answer. Even if there was, I wouldn't give a fuck.

Reaching her in three easy steps, she tries to run but still has a weak knee from Len's visits. Kicking into the back of her right leg, she goes down with a crack, and I pull her back up by her hair.

"Answer my fucking question, you stupid fucking bitch!"

I drag her with me to her favorite window where she would sit and judge me. Her nails dig into the back of my hand, and I press my full weight down as I step on her calf. She's going to burn, and I might be kind enough to allow her to die beforehand if she opens her fucking mouth.

There's a scream, but it's dulled at the memories staring back at me, and I know how to hurt the cunt. Her nose is pushed flat against her face as I push her into the glass. She can't look away and I give her the part of her life she was unaware of.

"Did you know Anika would watch Len fuck you? You would be in this fucking window and his family would be forced to see you get on your knees and suck his filthy dick." Her sobs are louder, but it is fucking nothing compared to the pain inside of me. "They'd laugh together, talk about how desperate you were." She flinches again as I move closer, and my voice drops, "Then Anika would stand right on the other side, staring into your house, while Len fucked her. She would scream your name, hoping you looked over."

The stubborn bitch doesn't open her fucking mouth and my fist flies out, landing squarely on the back of her head.

I can't control myself. I need her to be in pain. She could have fucking helped. I asked her to fucking help. To give me one hour, that's all I needed, and everything would be different.

She drops to the floor, to her knees where she's comfortable, and my leg rocks back, hitting straight into her face. Her back slams into the dining chair set around her shitty table that no one would ever eat at because she's a vapid cunt that has no one. I have the sense to close the door to prevent anyone from interfering before I go back to her and grab a handful of her hair to lift to her feet. She sways, dazed, from one fucking punch.

"Do you know I still can't remember your name?" I muse, "After all these years, I don't know your name because you were only ever Len's whore."

Her sobs get louder, emotional pain tearing at her where physical has failed.

So, I keep pressing against it.

"He would call you that too. When he would get in arguments with his wife, he would tell her that he was going to visit his whore. Then he would leave your house, walk the few short steps, and go back to his wife. He would fuck her while recounting her every disgusting and filthy thing you allowed him to do to you."

My fist slams into her stomach, and she forces out her bullshit lies.

"I was going to help."

It ends on a wheeze as the air is knocked out of her. My voice lowers, it's darker and more deadly.

"But you didn't."

All she had to do was give me one hour, sixty minutes, then Vanya would be alive, and I would be something different. I would have my heart, and I'd be able to keep my wife. Everything comes back to that one moment, something inconsequential to this dumb fucking cunt, but it will forever be the defining moment of my life. More than the fuckers who forced me to my knees, or the days I would wake up with blood and cum all over me. I had one moment of hope in my life, one thing I wanted, and it was robbed from me.

She cries louder, and her eyes open wide, pleading with me.

"He would have killed me! If I helped you, he would have killed me. Everyone knew to stay away from you because of what he would have done."

I let her have the hope she's going to survive, only to kill it like she did to me. She drops to her feet and nearly collapses as the chairs clatter from the force of her falling back. I take a step forward and grab her face, her teeth moving under my fingers from the force of my hold.

"Don't lie and pretend to be afraid. We both know the only thing you were scared of was Len not wanting your dried up cunt anymore. You're weak. Nothing. You lived with nothing more than the scraps you could take from whoever was willing and I'm going to free you of that disease."

Her tears slip over my fingers, and I watch them with disgust as I push my fingers harder into her skin. "Who were they?"

She shakes her head and I press harder, bending her backwards over the table and take out my knife. The whimpers aren't heard as I make a small cut below her jaw that won't kill her too soon.

"Answer my fucking question, you worthless cunt!"

She shakes, forcing her disgusting blood and tears to touch me.

Letting her face go, I drive my elbow down into her eye. It hurts like a bitch, and the soft tissue dips upon impact. It was Len's favorite move, so she should be used to it since she would watch him beat us. But there's a difference between being a spectator and the one experiencing the searing pain and blurred vision.

She becomes more dazed and slips against the aged wood as I straighten. There are three large pillar candles in the middle of the table. They've fallen due to her need to fucking move. I'm helpful and grab two of them as the other rolls with the dumb bitch jolting the table.

She's passing out and I step back, waiting, knowing the next stage of my vengeance requires her to talk. As soon as her lashes flutter, I pick her up by the front of her cardigan and drop her flat against the table. There's rope sitting at the bottom of a bookcase with a thick layer of dust on it. I use it to tie each of her limbs to a leg of the table and begin carving into her flesh. I don't want to scar myself for the rest of my short life, so I only cut away part of her clothes. The parts that won't reveal her nasty ass body I've seen too many times.

I dig the tip of the knife between her ribs and her lashes flutter. The screams are delayed as I bring her back to consciousness. They come later once she's fully back in her body and I twist, puncturing her lung as I grit, "Who. Were. They."

She thrashes, attempting to free herself. I look at a spot on the wall as I pull the hem of her dress up. I don't have gloves, but the candles are at least ten inches in height, and I wouldn't be able to wrap one hand around it. She cries, sobs, snot running down her face, mixing with blood as I force it inside of her and laugh to myself.

"You always did think with your cunt. Now, answer me."

The screams get louder, blocking everything else out as I flick the lighter and slowly move it between her legs.

It does the job and motivates her as she continues to sob uncontrollably.

"I don't know. They broke in."

Lie.

So, I light a literal fire under her ass and take the long matchstick from the mantel. The embers are slow as I swipe it against the wall and blindly drop it between her legs. The glow starts slowly as the candle burns and I wait for the truth. The wax drips against the tabletop as she begs for mercy.

"Please! I don't know."

She might be more inclined to tell the truth with blood, so I twist the knife in the other direction as she splutters and struggles to breathe. Gurgling echoes around the room as her lung fills with blood and the sound is fucking annoying.

Grabbing her jaw, I hold her head still and remove my knife from its new holder. She attempts to escape as I bring the dirtied edge to her lips and position the blade between her teeth. I hold her jaw shut with half of the blade out of her mouth and crank the knife like a lever to make a long slit to the corner of her lips at each side. The blood runs over my fingers, the viscous liquid sticking to my skin as she screams. The garbled noises only cause her flesh to part and passes out, again. Weak cunt.

I don't waste time, knowing she's fucking useless and there will be someone who knows what happened that I could beat it out of. Her parted cheeks split further as I push the other candle into her mouth. Her teeth grate the hard wax, making it flake and I press my full weight into it before lighting it. I'm nothing if not fair, so I leave the third by the leg of the table that has her right wrist tied to it and light it with the rope's frayed edge flirting with the flame. If she wakes up, she can save herself. If not, I'll watch her burn.

I leave the shithole without turning back to look at where everything was ruined. I have one destination in mind like I did that night, the night Vanya was taken from me. Just like that night, I'm covered in blood, but my heart stops racing as soon I walk back into the graveyard. It all stills when I reach her, and I don't sit on the bench. I lay beside her and wrap my arm around the part of headstone that's still here. The sky is near black as I remain on my back, wishing I could feel her slap me like she used to. I might not remember her face or the exact hue of her eyes because they had all been replaced by the blue of her skin, but no one can take the facts away. I can live with her in the memories of what happened rather than the memory of how she looked, smelt, or sounded.

Soft footsteps move over the grass, and Grigory says. "You deserve peace, my boy. How many more years will you continue to be at war with yourself?"

I answer honestly, with disallowed emotion.

"Until I'm back with her." Closing my eyes, I ask, "Is the shovel still in the same place?"

I open them and raise to my full height as he nods before walking away. The anger comes back as I leave my solnyshkuh to retrieve the tool to right the wrong of her being disturbed. But it cools when I'm back with her, and I replace all the earth that has been disturbed. It's eerily similar to the night I buried her. Only I'm not kissing her or hugging her, I'm silent.

No one should be buried twice, it's unnatural.

Once I'm done, I drop the shovel and go back to my spot to lay beside her. The grass is wet, soaking through my t-shirt into my skin as my voice lowers and I huddle closer to her.

"I wish I never left you alone. I wish you were real to someone other than me. Sometimes, I think I made you up. Others, I think I'm in a nightmare because this can't be my life. You were never supposed to die before me."

The air cools against my heated skin as the cold wet earth penetrates my bones.

"I still miss you. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop. I still have your birthday present. It's wrapped and hidden in the safe because I can never destroy it."

I just want a reply, just once.

"You would have loved the silk edge. That's what the material was, silk. I never knew the name for it before, and I had to walk through the racks and test it between my fingers to make sure it was the right one."

But I give her my secrets because she is the only person I trust.

"I nearly told Inessa about you, just so you were real to someone else. But I didn't, not because I'm ashamed of you, I'm ashamed of myself and knowing how badly I failed."

My voice lowers to below a whisper and I don't blink as I continue watching the dark clouds move overhead.

"Would you even recognize me anymore? Now that I've become this? Would you still smile at me? Or would you be ashamed too?"

My voice cracks and I hug the base of her headstone tighter.

"You were always so happy, so beautiful, and good. The only good thing in my life. I used to lay like this on the floor, you'd be on my chest, and I could feel you breathing with my hand on your back."

My blinking slows and there's comfort in the hard ground at my back as I whisper my secrets.

"I miss you, and I'll never stop missing you. Even if you hate me now, if you hate who I am, I'd take you screaming in my face to see you again. I've broken all my promises to you, Vanya, every single one that I gave you while you were alive, but I won't break the one I gave you in death. I won't let you be here alone. I won't let them rip you from me and not pay. If hell is real and that's where I end up, then so be it. As long as I can see you once, I'll accept it. I hope it is because then heaven is real. That's where you'll be and I won't see you, but…"

I clear my throat then croak, "But I promised that I'd come back and go to sleep here. Valentin and Vitali will have each other, and I'll stay with you."