The Mansion of Trials and Trials

Other Rooms

Minutes ago, in another bedroom, puddles of blood laid on the floor like a small thin lake. They slid on the gaps of the wooden tiles and floated to the leg of a bed, touching the corners of a wall, painting another graffiti of wilted rose. C stood in the middle of pond of blood. His white coat was dyed with the colour red, dripping blood from the corner one by one. He held the bloody dagger on his hand tightly. Taking a step, blood splashed over his shoes. There were corpses laying underneath his feet.

"Fantastic," he said. The thrill of a kill was the only bread which made his blood pumping. It was his daily treat. He never liked anyone to disturb him from his moment of time. The corpses were too noisy. He was a quiet man other than a party one.

C looked at his dagger and smiled. The blade forecasted his reflection. There was blood on his face. He slit his head and stared at the brown-haired man with sunglasses. Nearby, a white cane was spilt into parts of two.

"Aren't you scared of me?" he asked. Holden laid against the side rail of the bed, resting still. He pressed his stomach hard, struggling not to let the blood from his body come out. His hand and fingers were filled with blood. There was a wound.

"No," Holden answered, he chuckled, "Why should I be scared of you?"

"Because I am a murderer. Can't you see? I just killed tons of people." C pointed to the corpses with his dagger. Blood spatted on the ground.

"I can't see," Holden replied. Ironically enough, it was the truth.

"You treated me like other people and even saved me a life. We just met for a while. We're just strangers. Answer me, why did you do so much for me?" C waved his dagger and pointed it to Holden, "Answer me, or else I will kill you."

"Go ahead. Either way, I can't live. Why don't you just let me die with dignity?"

"I don't understand. I didn't even help you."

"You did. You led me to the kitchen."

"It was just a sudden impulse. I did not have the intention to help you."

"That's not it. You did something that only a very few people can do." Holden looked into C's eyes and smiled.

"You treat me like a normal person." C's eyes widened. The dagger from his hand nearly fell out.

"Not many can do this," said Holden, grinning." Which is why I need to thank you. Thank you for treating me as Holden." He reached out his hand towards C. More blood spilled out from his stomach. He didn't care about the blood anymore.

"Thank you, C, my friend."

C's shoulders shook. His heart was beating. It had been ages since someone knew he was a murderer but still treated him as a friend.

"Haha..........a friend?"

"Hahahaha.........how funny. I haven't got a friend for ages." He smiled bitterly, "When was the last time someone called me as a friend? I guess it was when I had my first kill. Holden, you do know I am a murderer, right?"

"Perhaps you are a murderer but I know deep in your heart, you are a good one. I have seen too many cruelties and selfishness. You are not one of them. Don't you treat me as a friend?"

"Cadan," said C.

"Cadan?"

"Yes, Cadan. That's my name. C is my nickname when killing people. The name that the police call me. People in the old days called me Cadan. You can call me that."

"Cadan," Holden repeated, "Nice name."

"Nice to meet you, Cadan."

"Nice to meet you too, Holden." C shook Holden's hand. He didn't care whether there was blood on Holden's hands. He was used to blood.