The Khigir Hunters

18. Spirits and Dreams

"Dimitri?" I looked up at my older brother, meeting his dark chocolate orbs, "Do you think monsters are real?"

3 hours later...

。・゜・.・゜・。・゜・.・゜・。。・゜・.

Growing up I can remember a time where I both did and did not regret my actions simultaneously. Alina Petrov, platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, and an undeniable spontaneous personality was my best friend. Together we snuck away for candies, gossiped about the whole town, and went on many amazing adventures. At the same time, her brother Anton was the worst. All I knew at the age of fourteen was that he couldn't stay away from the bottle, and if you bothered him, well then you'd best prepare to run.

One day Alina had the bright idea to steal one of those bottles from him. I didn't encourage her on the matter, but I also didn't shy away from the option. She had ended up swiping Stolichnaya vodka. We decided after somewhat careful consideration to take it to an abandoned farm and try it there. What crazy times those were. Opening the bottle and smelling it for the first time as a curious, naïve kid was revolting. Tasting it was worse. There's nothing like drinking vodka straight up for the first time.

Alina had often wondered what Anton found so addicting in alcohol, and we would soon find out. We both didn't come home until the next day. Needless to say, our parents weren't too pleased. That's what I remembered as Victor placed Stolichnaya next to the sink. Malik was standing next to his older brother with his bloodied arm outstretched. One of his many stitches broke and he needed it repaired, so Victor volunteered and removed a bottle of vodka from one of the higher up coverts. The entire situation bemused me; I didn't know what to make of it.

"Not in front of Yulia." Chris protested, glancing protectively towards my sitting form.

"Pfft, she's fine." Malik said with a wave of his hand. Victor looked at Malik for a split second before receiving a silent 'ok' then proceeded to dump a generous amount of alcohol over Malik's open wound. He didn't so much as flinch. I watched wide eyed as the vodka turned a shade of pink as it rolled off Malik's injured arm and swirled down the drain. My throat felt dry. Surely that had to hurt.

"Why not just take him to a hospital?" I asked quietly, eyes still glued on the ordeal in front of me. Victor was finally done pouring sterilizing liquor down Malik's arm and was now rooting through a small bag of medical tools.

"Too expensive." Victor replied smoothly, closely inspecting a thin needle. My mouth hung agape upon seeing the length. I shifted in my seat, clutching the top of the chair with apprehension. Malik set his upper limb flat against the counter, patiently waiting for Victor to get a move on. Or stitch up his skin like fabric. I shuttered at the thought.

Victor gathered the necessary instruments for the procedure and sterilized them as well. I heard Chris sigh and make his way over to me. He pulled out a chair and plopped down lazily to my right, most likely unhappy that I get to watch this uncomfortable yet... complex technique. I inspected Malik's face for any trace of discomfort. I found none.

Overall Malik remained unexpressive. How he did baffled me. If I were about to have something stab and pull at me, I'd be freaking out. I inhaled sharply when I realized Victor was ready and brought the needle closer to his flesh. Just as he was about to insert it, a familiar voice called my name.

"Yulia?" I hesitantly tore my eyes from the scene to meet Leon's curious stare. Huh, he must've been in the basement. He had just entered the kitchen, that or he was observing what we were all up to beforehand. Either way, his attention was set on me, and that made me a bit uneasy since he was the sheer definition of authority. He wore a black blazer with a snow colored shirt and slacks. His ebony hair was combed back as usual, and he seemed more enigmatic than before. Maybe this was due to the fact that I haven't seen him since yesterday, or maybe it's because he's just a mysterious person.