Blood and Guilt

After brutally killing 13
men on Christmas Eve for the Diablos' (a gang) money, Nikolai, an eighteen year-old from the outer colonies searches
for someone to unload his thoughts on, which are driving him crazy.  Nikolai plans on going to the only man he
trusts with his feelings to discuss the massacre and seek counsel.  
----
The
December wind chill cut through his body like those daggers he held in each hand as
he staggered down the street. The sound of those metal boots echoed down the
alleys of that silent city. He was
covered from head to toe in the smell of fresh blood and was clutching those guilt-stained
daggers for dear life. He looked down at
those tools of treachery and deception that brought death to both flesh and conscience
alike.  
Nikolai lamented, “These
blades… They tricked me.  That wretched
steel bent my heart to its will and gave me a thirst for blood I can’t
quench.”
He looked up and stopped suddenly
by an old mansion.  The blood soaked teenager
staggered to the door and knocked thrice. 
Eventually a man came to the door in a robe.  
Nikolai trembled and didn’t
quite meet the man’s eyes as he said “I’ve nowhere else to go.”
A look of shock and
disappointment covered the robed man’s face. 
“Come inside.  Its freezing out here.”
Nikolai shuddered and
walked up the stairs and into the warm house. 
He saw the familiar photo of Sergeant Avery Johnson and his father, both
in their youth in the lobby. If a guest could have
squinted hard enough they could have see “Orion”
tattooed on their arms.
The Host got both of them
coffee and they sat down across from each other in the dining room. Nikolai had stopped trembling but he still
couldn’t meet his host’s eyes.
The Host opened with “Is
that your blood?”
“No.”, Nikolai said flatly.
The host relaxed before he said, “So how many?”
Nikolai said, “Thirteen…  Maybe more. 
I wasn’t counting.  I’m sorry
Alex.”
Alex sighed heavily before
saying, “You can call me Dad.  What
happened?”
Nikolai still didn't meet his father’s eyes as he explained, “They, the Diablos, sent me out after
dark to kill Uncle Malcom at what was supposed to be a meeting.  I didn’t
manage to kill Uncle but I killed his men. 
I killed them all.”  
Nikolai’s eyes watered and
he wiped them with his bloody dagger clutching hands.
“I’m so sorry.  I’ve let you down.  I betrayed everything our family stands for.”
Alex got up and walked
over to his son.  
“We will talk about your
punishment in the morning.  Let’s get you
cleaned up.”  Alex reached for Nikolai’s
daggers but his son tucked them into his stomach.  
“No.”, Nikolai protested.
Alex demanded, “Don’t be absurd.  Give me the blades.”
Nikolai, while fighting back tears, said, “I didn’t come here to get cleaned up.  I came here to get something off my chest.”
Alex countered, “Yes and you did. But you look like—“
Nikolai looked directly
into his father’s deep, dark eyes and said, “I liked it Dad.  I liked every second of it…   And I’m ashamed that I like it.”
Nikolai covered his face
and broke down in tears.
Category:The Weekly