Out

For a little while.

Nicodemus felt sick to his stomach as he went up the stairs, clutching the banister. He didn't know why he felt the way he did. It was as if something horrible had happened, but he didn't even know what it was.
*********************************************Dmitri woke up in a cold sweat, unsure where Vadim had gone. He needed to know. He needed to get out. He wrapped the dirty old couch blanket around his body, all naked aside from his boxers. He watched the house, how still it was, how dark it was. Banana lay on the couch snoring, the old dog had become boring in it's years. Never doing anything but sleeping. Dmitri saw a light glow dimply from the bathroom and carefully grabbed a knife from the kitchen, going to see what it was. Everything felt worse than it was in the moment, and he was scared, and hurt. He crept around the corner where Vadim stood watching his reflection in the mirror- he hadn't noticed Dmitri yet. Dmitri carefully let go of the blanket and got Vadim into a headlock, carving the knife across Vadim's throat without thinking. Vadim grabbed at his throat- as if trying to hold it together as it gushed blood. He began to choke and splutter, sliding down the bathroom wall and leaving a streak of dark blood across it.

"Everything. Everything you EVER did to me? All of my fucking pain and your stupid goddamn excuses? I'll be better, I'll be better! You never were! How... how could you hurt a little kid? I was a kid, but I wasn't a goddamn idiot. You did this to yourself- someone who loved me wouldn't do the things you did to me. The things you STILL do to me! I know love now, I've seen it, I've experienced it, and it's not you. It's him. It's never been you, and it was never mom. I'm glad she killed herself. I'm fucking glad. You two deserved each other." Dmitri spat as Vadim choked on the bathroom floor. And there it was- everything he had ever wanted to say. Laying on the bathroom floor. Vadim's eyes met his and he began to feel sick, as he backed out of the bathroom, holding his hand over his mouth he grabbed the phone off the wall, dialling the only person he could.

"Hello?"

"Nicodemus," Dmitri started barely above a whisper

"Hey, hey what's wrong?" Nicodemus asked, suddenly very aware of the panicked tone in Dmitri's voice- any other feeling he had been harbouring, leaving immediately.

"I did something really bad."

"Where are you?"

"I'm... I'm at home, can you... can-"

"I'll be right there."
**********************************************
Dmitri wandered around the house as if he were looking for something. All he could think of was the blood. How was he supposed to get rid of the body? Vadim was a big oily man with leather skin and rough hands, he wasn't someone you could easily miss. Dmitri opened his nightstand drawer with hurried panic. He had to feel something else.
**********************************************
Dmitri sat on his porch, watching as Nicodemus crossed the road quickly. It was dark out, nearly pitch black- a thoughtful veil. Nicodemus ran over and wrapped Dmitri in his arms as he stood up, shaking.

"Your... your shirt." Dmitri murmured pointing to the blood clinging to Nicodemus' cream coloured shirt. Nicodemus looked down, then back at Dmitri, who stood clutching his arm. He looked paler than usual, Nicodemus didn't even know that was possible.

"What did you do to your arm?" Nicodemus asked, quickly grabbing Dmitri's elbow as blood ran down his forearm.

"It doesn't... that's not.."

"What, you did something else?" Nicodemus asked, raising his eyebrows.

"My dad." Dmitri whispered carefully

"Something happened to Vadim? Is he hurt? Is he dead?"

"I think he's dead."

"What? What happened? Where is he?"