---
There wasn't a single drop of blood on the knife he slowly pulled out.
Even looking at the gleaming steel sent a shiver through me, and in that calm voice of his that always unsettled me, he said,
"I can't let the blood of those filth touch your body."
A relaxed smile appeared on his face, as if what he'd said was completely normal. When he grinned, showing all his teeth, he lifted the knife into the air. His movement was sharp, controlled. But right at that moment, a siren echoed through the street. The sound wiped that strange pride from Darian's face in an instant. His eyes filled with tears, his breathing quickened. He looked at me, then glanced wildly around. He was like an animal cornered, with no idea what to do.
Police shouts echoed: "Drop the knife now!"
Darian flinched at the sound of their approaching footsteps. Then, suddenly, he threw the knife toward the edge of the sidewalk. Even the sound of metal hitting stone felt too clean. After that, in a way I never expected, he turned to me, pulled me up from the ground, and hugged me tightly. His trembling breath hit my neck.
"I'm sorry… everything was for you… to protect you…" he sobbed.
None of what he said made it into my mind. It was like hearing someone speak from far away. I just stood there. Still, numb, blank.
The police came and pulled us apart. Darian's fingers were wrapped so tightly around my wrist that they struggled to pry them off.
They were dragging him away, bent over. He couldn't even stand on his own. He kept yelling apologies. "I didn't mean to kill you! I swear I didn't mean it!" He tore himself apart with guilt. When I didn't answer, he panicked even more. He suddenly fell to his knees and started smashing his head against the floor. When I saw the blood, all the things he had done flooded back into my mind.
The disgust inside me surged.
What a pathetic creature, I thought.
---
He was still panicking as they put him in the police car. I was brought to another vehicle. Sitting inside, my hands were shaking, but my face showed nothing. It felt like I was watching a replay of something that had happened long ago.
When we arrived at the station, a tall woman greeted me. When our eyes met, she offered a small smile.
"I'm a social services officer," she said. "You can't be questioned alone since you're a minor."
All I could do was nod.
Looking down the corridor, I saw them taking Darian to the interrogation room, still in handcuffs. The woman went in with them. Before the door closed, Darian looked at me. That look… panic, guilt, regret, fear… all stacked on top of each other.
The door closed.
The hallway fell silent. A strange silence. Police stations are usually full of noise—phones ringing, conversations, footsteps… But here, everyone was whispering. As if speaking loudly would cause something terrible to happen.
I went to the seating area and sank into a chair. My fingers interlocked tightly. My legs were bouncing; I couldn't stop them. There was still no sound from inside. As time stretched on, the silence grew heavier. My chest felt tight.
A police officer was standing guard at the door, others were watching the corridor. A few of them let their eyes flick over to me, then quickly looked away. It was like everyone was expecting something to happen, but no one knew what.
Minutes were passing. Or maybe just seconds. My sense of time was gone.
I was just about to stand up—
A scream came from inside the interrogation room.
At first, I couldn't tell if it was even a human sound. It was muffled, distorted. It sounded like something was being torn apart. Everyone in the hallway jolted.
Then came the real scream.
Sharp. Filled with pain.
One of the darkest sounds a human could make.
The officer inside shouted: "DON'T COME IN! EVACUATE THE AREA!"
Some of the officers panicked. A few drew their guns, some stepped back. One of them reached for the door handle, but the officer inside screamed again:
"ARE YOU STUPID!? GET OUT! I'M TRYING TO STOP HI—"
The sentence cut off abruptly.
Then a single scream.
Long. Ragged.
And then… a silence like death.
One of the young officers began to cry. His hands were shaking.
"Did… did the kid really do this?" someone whispered.
A seasoned officer pushed through the group and spoke in a firm voice: "We're opening the door. Whatever is happening in there is escalating. We intervene now or we lose more people."
At that moment, a police officer tried to pull me back.
"Take your hand off me," I said.
I pushed him. It was pure reflex.
Without thinking, I went to the door. Only one thought filled my mind:
If I see that Darian hurt an officer… then this time I'll kill him myself.
I'll take whatever punishment comes.
I flung the door open.
And the moment I stepped inside… my breath caught.
The room reeked of metal and blood.
But the silence…
The silence was maddening.
Darian was lying on his back in the middle of the room.
A single bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
His eyes were open.
Staring at the ceiling.
But out of everything dead in that room, he looked the most at peace.
I looked around:
— No police officers.
— No social services woman.
— No gun.
— No signs of struggle.
— Not even a knocked-over chair.
Everything was… more orderly than it should have been.
Then I saw something on the floor.
A torn police uniform.
And right next to it…
a severed arm, cut cleanly at knee height.
It was as if someone had vanished in seconds.
Someone.
Some people.
Something.
And all that remained was Darian's lifeless body.
Of the three people who should have been in that room, only one was still there.
But where the others went… how they vanished… there was no explanation.