GONCHAROV

GONCHAROV- Ch.1 Snowfall

Picture credits to @Registered_DoDo on Reddit

Song credits to @darkghoul on YouTube

Snow. Red snow.

Wherever Goncharov went, snow was sure to fall. And wherever Goncharov went, death was sure to follow.

The body of a man laid at his feet, blood pooling out of his head and onto the snow laden tile. His eyes, though lifeless, still seemed to plead to Goncharov. They stared up at him, begging to be spared, begging to be saved. But they could not move, for the heart that gave them life had ceased to beat.

Goncharov became taken with guilt, from his eyes which stared down at the man's limp body, to his guilty fingertips which had ended the man's life. But there was no time for guilt, guilt was a mind killer and Goncharov needed his mind.

He needed to think, not feel. And he had no right to feel, not after he brought death to this innocent man. So he only offered a prayer. The air was stale while his words filled the alleyway, ricocheting off of the cold brick walls.

He prayed that the man's soul would get to heaven, pleading that god may save him in death, for he couldn't in life. And then, as the clock tower struck twelve, he left just as he arrived. Slinking off into the dead of night.

He went to meet his client, a short and pathetic looking man whose eyes were so sunken and riddled with devastation that they were nearly impossible to meet.

Quietly, Goncharov snaked off to the barstools to meet the man. The smell of blood was still present on his coat, and there were splatters of it all over his shoes. But he didn't care, it was dark and no one could see him. That was why he chose the bar to begin with. He took a seat and gestured to the bartender.

"I'll have the uh... Negroni. Iced." He waved his hand at the bartender and was greeted with a nod.

"Comin' right up, sir." Goncharov turned to face his client once the bartender was out of range. He leaned in.

"Your guys' ain't breathin' no more. You'll hear about it tomorrow. Give me the other half of the money now before I send ya to heaven with him." Goncharov whispered. The man's eyes widened before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a generous wad of money.

His trembling hands reached out to Goncharov and slid the money into his hand.

"Good. I'm checkin' this soon as I get home. It better all be there." The bartender walked back with Goncharov's drink just as he finished talking.

"Here you are, sir." The man smiled kindly at him.

"Thanks." Goncharov took a hearty swig of the drink, and then another, emptying the glass in two gulps.

"I ain't wanna see your face again now, ya hear? I don't do these things twice." Goncharov left money for his drink, and then he fled the bar. His footsteps were still slow, he wasn't in any rush to get home.

He had to calm himself down a little, had to clear his mind before he interacted with anyone else. The snow continued to fall, snowflakes collected on the collar of his coat, and the top of his hat.

He took a detour, stopping near the canal to smoke his cigar and count his money. He pulled the cigar out of his pocket, and produced a lighter from seemingly out of nowhere.

He lit the cigar and stared into the canal. The dim light that it produced illuminated his face dully as he stared out into the distance, emotionless.

He watched occasional leaf float along the canal. It was calming, almost therapeutic. But then again, most things were in contrast to the harsh nature of his job.

The wind danced around his cigar, threatening to blow it out while exhaled whiffs of smoke. It was so cold that the smoke could be seen rising from his lips into the air. He watched the smoke now, it formed swirls and puffs. It reminded him of clouds in its odd formations.

His cigar began to shrink, slowly becoming more ash than tobacco. It's cinders fell to the ground, painting the snow grey.

Goncharov looked at the canal one last time, it's peaceful waters grew even more tranquil when paired with the frigidness of the snow. Slowly, the water was beginning to freeze over.

Goncharov let the ghost of a smile tug his lips upwards.

He appreciated nature for all that it was. Whether altered or untouched. But simple admiration couldn't stop him from harming it, simple admiration couldn't save him from himself.

The smile vanished at the thought as he flicked what was left of his cigarette into the canal. Admiration couldn't save him from himself, after all.

It took the ever so slowly rising sun to pry him from his thoughts. Watching it rear its head from behind the hills made him realize that morning was upon him, and that he needed to get back home before he worried Katya.

He was in a bit of a rush now, he was sure to be in trouble if he was spotted outside so early in the morning and after such a brutal murder, to boot.

The snow stopped falling gradually as he made his way home. Although he couldn't feel it anymore, remnants of it stayed caked up in piles all around him reminding him that it had in fact been there. He checked his watch. It was already four, soon to be five.

He didn't waste any more time stalling, and instead continued home, finally arriving with daybreak.

___

Hehe this was supposed to be the prologue but I got lazy lmfao. Anyways, how'd I do on the drama aspect of things? Not bad, right? Haha...right? This is my first time trying out a project like this so I hope to god it goes well.

That said, if y'all have any suggestions for the ending nothings really set in stone so please, by  all means, bombard me with them! Ideas are appreciated!

Final word count: 1,014 words :p