1967, Vailburg
Strumming from the radio, Paul Anka’s Put Your Head On My Shoulder mingles with noise from the traffic my brother and I pass by. My head bobs with the beat of the music, vision blackening slightly by the shades resting over my nose. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting loosely on the door of my black Chevy Camaro Convertible as the wind brushes our cheeks like a gentle caress.
My brother takes a deep drag of his cigar, exhaling clouds of smoke with the air smelling like burnt tobacco. As we get closer to the street of our parents’ house, I can feel the atmosphere turning tense and dark. But we both know that it has to be done.
For so many years, we have stayed quiet, baring every ounce of shame and torture without any protest. Year after year have passed for us, suffering this unforgettable hell we lived and breathed in. I ease off the car’s accelerator, before hitting the brakes at the closed iron gate. Malcolm, our fifty-year-old house guard, comes to the gate with a gentle smile on his face before he lets us pass without any questions. He doesn’t need to interrogate us, he has been like an uncle to us since the day we were born.
“What brings you two here? I thought you went on your business trip,” he asks, crossing his arms.
“Are mother and father home?” I query instead, taking off my shades.
He nods timidly in response. “They returned from the mall fifteen minutes ago.”
I hear a rustling sound beside me as my brother takes out a huge wad of money and passes it to Malcolm. “Go home for good. We don’t need you anymore.”
His face constricts with pain, a frown appearing between his brows with hurt reflecting in his eyes. “But sir, what have I done? I do not understand that…after twenty years of my service I…I,” he stutters.
“We’re doing this for your own good, Malcolm. Everything is taken care of, you can leave now.”
Without uttering another word to him I drive ahead, taking the circular turn around the fountain my mother has spent a large fortune on. Parking the car, we both open our doors in sync as I button up the front of my black tux and get the stuff we bought an hour ago before arriving here. Bursting open the wooden door that has an elegant design carved in, we enter the house, greeted by the sound of the TV echoing throughout the main room. We know the maids aren’t home because they were informed about their jobs being terminated before we got here. Following the sound, our footsteps thud against the marble floor as we enter the living room.
Both our parents are relaxing on the plush, gray couch. Mother’s head rests against father’s chest while his back rests against the couch with one hand around mother’s shoulder and the other resting on her thigh. Such a sight would be evident enough to tell they are just like any other normal couple who are enjoying each other’s company as they watch a sitcom show, laughing loudly seeing other people make a fool out of themselves in front of millions. Mother is dressed in her favorite green dress with puffed sleeves. Her blond hair is styled perfectly with light makeup painted on her face. Perfectionist as always. Father isn’t in his usual suit dress. Instead, he is wearing a casual blue polo shirt with off-white pants and polished black shoes.
The ideal picture of a rich, happy couple.
But none of it is real. Just a fucking fake reflection of the monsters that lurk behind them both.
We head to the opposite couch, standing behind it and both our parents look up with their fake smiles faltering.
“Boys? When did you come back?” mother asks, leaving her husband’s side as she stands, straightening her shoulders. Father also follows her motion putting his hands inside his pockets.
“I thought you two were supposed to come back next week. Did the meeting end early?” he asks with a frown, a serious expression shadowing his face.
We both remain silent, looking at them with a cold, heartless face. Sensing the uncomfortable silence, mother claps her hands gently offering that same bogus smile she has always given us since infancy.
“Well, how about some lunch in the backyard?” She looks from father to us, waiting for our response, “I will get the maids to prepare your favorite meals and it is perfect, bright weather for spending some quality time.”
There is silence again except for the actors saying their dialogues on the TV. I look at my brother whose face mirrors the same emotions I am feeling at the moment.
Coldness. Rage. Disgust.
The next minute, we both take out the guns hidden inside our suit pockets, pointing them at our parents. Horror instantly takes over their faces as their eyes widen and their breathing accelerates.
“W-What…What are you two doing? Put the guns down, right now,” father stutters as he gives it all to sound brave even though he is failing miserably.
“You…you two don’t have to do this. We are your parents…w-we are a family-”
I snicker under my breath while unlocking the safety button.
“Family?” my brother starts, “I don’t think you both even fucking know what that word truly means.”
“Listen, if you are doing it for the money then you know both of you are getting the business and wealth next month. You both are now adults, so, eventually, it’s all yours-”
I shoot the vase watching our parents scream and tremble from fear. A sight that I have been waiting for years to witness. And dear God, it is a sight to behold.
I shake my head, followed by a sinister, dark grin.
“You both know the true reason.”
“Y-you want us to apologize? Fine, we will do it. We both are so sorry,” mother looks at father, nodding at him to follow her words.
“Yes. We are so sorry for what we did. Please, forgive us. We have forgiven every mistake you two have made, it’s only fair you forgive us, too.”
“You two are our own blood. Our sons. It’s not like we are your stepfamily-”
“Just the thought of you being connected to us by blood is what makes this more unforgivable,” I interrupt her. “You two have ruined the beginning and end of our lives. No matter what we do or where we go, our lives will always be tainted because of what you did.”
“It’s clear as daylight neither of you is sorry, so stop lying,” my brother seethes through his clenched teeth, tightening his hold on the gun.
“You won’t get away with this. The police will get involved for sure.” Always being the diplomatic man in the room.
“You know what? This would be too easy for you two,” I mutter before nodding towards my brother as he understands my gesture and leaves the room. He soon returns with two butcher’s knives in one hand and a bucket of water in the other.
“Sit down,” I order.
Luckily they cooperate and slowly sit down, looking at each other before returning their gaze on me. My brother places everything on the table and takes my position. Dropping the gun beside the bucket, I pick up one of the butcher’s knives, raising it close to my face as the sunlight glimmers on its shiny surface.
Stalking towards them, I first kneel beside my mother, whose makeup is ruined from her tears. Not that it ever hid her evilness from us. I look down at her hands, touching her slightly wrinkled skin with my free hand and relishing in the sight of her shaking with fear.
“These are the same hands that held me when I was born but if I knew these hands would tarnish me forever, I would have wished to God to let me die in your womb.”
“I-I’m sorry…please…” she whimpers.
Just her weak ass apology boils my blood furthermore and I quickly snatch her hands, placing them on the table. Before she can contemplate my next move, I chop her fingers off in one swift move.
“Ah! Ah!” she screams out loud but it gets muffled with my now blood coated hand against her mouth.
“No-” father starts to protest but when my brother tsks in warning he halts his attempt to save his wife.
Mother writhes in pain but I don’t feel an ounce of sympathy for her. It’s a view that will always make me smile in glory. Eventually she calms down a bit, with her body relaxing slightly. I move back my hand and grin darkly. Dragging the bucket closer, I take her hands again.
“How about let’s soothe that pain a bit,” I mutter and plunge her hands inside the water. In the blink of an eye she screams again with the pain intensifying more with the salt water.
Surprises are always fun.
She tries to move back her hands but I force it deeper.
“Oh father, you seem to be feeling left out,” my brother mutters and makes his way towards him. Father’s whole body tightens with tension.
“You’ve always argued and ordered more in this house than anyone else. Always made me wish to shut you out someway. I think I finally have a way.”
I can easily tell what he has in his mind as he goes to the cabinet and opens the small drawer, retrieving a needle and thread. He gets it arranged and returns to father, tilting his head back.
“No! No! Stop this madness,” father yells. Leaving mother’s side for a moment I lean the knife against father’s throat, as he understands my silent threat and turns quiet.
“Just like I thought,” I snicker.
Holding father’s lips, my brother pushes the needle in, piercing his skin and letting him suffer through every second of this agony. His muffled groans and screams are like music to our ears with the blood dripping down his jaw and staining his shirt. But my brother continues to sew his lips as slowly as possible, not out of caution but to make him hurt longer.
When he is finally done, he leans back and admires his handiwork with a wicked grin. “You look more handsome, father,” he teases.
Father’s lips are oozing with blood as tears stream down his cheeks.
Hmm. The criss-cross pattern does suit him.
“You know what, I think I can make him look a bit better,” I suggest. My brother stays, pointing the gun back at our parents as I move to the corner wall where father kept his fishing rods. Getting two fish hooks, I return to him and attach the thread to both.
“I want to see your eyes better. Just curious to witness what more darkness you are hiding.”
As if understanding what I’m going to do, his eyes widen in horror with his screams getting cut off because of what my brother did.
I lean closer and stretch his eyelids up before pushing the hook in. His Adam’s apple is vibrating due to his shrieks that are begging to be released. Blood drips down from his wound, coating his cheek but I don’t stop for a second.
“Oh no, mother. You have to see this,” my brother mutters, moving to mother’s side and guiding her to watch us by gripping her head. Her face says it all and expresses how disgusted and horrified she is feeling.
Just like we did.
After the hooks are attached to his eyelids, I hold the threads and pull them up, stretching his eyelids far enough that perhaps his eyeballs may fall out.
I fix my gaze on them, seeing nothing but the same emotions our father carried the day we were ruined.
Emptiness. Darkness.
But this time the presence of fear is more than ever before.
“Please, stop this, boys…please I beg you,” mother whispers with a shaky but soft tone, as if expecting it will melt our hearts. Only if we had one.
“You two didn’t stop so what makes you think we will?” I spit out.
Mother starts to sob, shedding her crocodile tears, assuming that will change our minds. Sad news for her, we stopped caring the day they ruined my and my brother’s lives.
My brother nods at me and we stand up with the guns in our hand.
“Any last words?” I ask, my index finger hovering over the trigger.
“Mmm…Mmm-”
Father never gets to finish his final sentence as I pull the trigger. Watching the bullet pierce right through his forehead as his body slides down the carpeted floor. Mother screams in terror and shock as she watches her husband’s blood pooling around his head already.
We walk towards her, enjoying the sight of her body trembling like she is losing her mind like a lunatic. Hovering over her like the demons about to rip her wretched soul away forever, she looks up at us, begging for her life with her tears.
“Please…I’m sorry…I should have been a better mother. Please don’t kill me…I won’t tell anyone.”
“I don’t feel like hearing your words at this point before you take your last breath,” I murmur. Gripping her face, I force her to open her mouth. She writhes and trembles against my hold, trying to get away from me. But today she has nowhere to run. I hold her tongue and nod at my brother to pass me the butcher’s knife. Her eyes widen with pure terror and before she can do anything to save herself, I cut off her tongue.
Her whole body starts to shiver with blood coating her mouth with her horrified eyes gazing upon us. More tears stream down her cheeks as she holds onto her mouth with her screams getting muffled.
After a fleeting moment of silence, my brother pulls the trigger and ends our mother’s meaningless life with blood from her head spraying our face and suit.
It is over. Our parents are dead and we killed them.
Maybe the police will see our actions as a sign of greed for our father’s wealth but the truth will always be known to us only. And they deserved it. Not bothering to wipe away the blood, I head to the shelf where father’s expensive cigars and drinks are stacked. Taking a cigar, I take the remote and walk towards the empty couch, sitting down and switching to a different channel. My brother sits beside me with my father’s most expensive whiskey in hand, drinking straight from the bottle. He passes it to me as I let out a heavy smoke before taking a sip, letting the whiskey leave a soothing burn down my throat.
“Wasn’t there supposed to be a match today?” my brother asks, drinking with his eyes straining on the screen.
I scowl, thinking about it for a few seconds. “I think it was canceled and moved to next week.”
“Oh, didn’t know that.”
Selecting a comedy-drama sitcom show, I lean back with my legs crossed as my ankle rests on my opposite knee.
Any other person would simply run away and hide his tracks after committing such a crime, but neither I nor did my brother feel even an ounce of guilt and remorse for the sin we committed. We know they deserved it and that it was the right thing to do after suffering for so many years.
We both were introduced to darkness the day we opened our eyes. Innocence and joy were never a part of our lives. We predicted after today everything will be alright, darkness would no longer be our companion. But we were wrong because deep down we knew this darkness was sucking us into a black hole that we may never return from.
And killing our parents proved it.
There was no turning back. Not anymore.
It’s all over.
We are ruined by the devil within us…the devil tainted us.
