Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

ANTON BERLIQUE

I admired Dirk's intrepidity in this situation, but it was becoming redundant and hopelessly inhibiting us from moving on to the denouement. I could see in his stone-cold face that he was reluctant in telling the story, so I let them discuss amongst themselves their next plan of action.

The two parents were promiscuous with how they wanted to handle the recount. The primo of the duet spoke first.

"I - I accidentally killed his father."

"He asked," Barry said, "what Zheng did to you. No more being the suspects. Tell me why you should be the victims."

"I'm getting to it!" Dirk berated.

"Easy, honey," Irene said in a soothing voice. "Calm. Quit being so balky."

"I'm sorry, his other personality works me up."

"My other personality is still in the room," I said.

"Can you, like, make him shut up?" Dirk asked.

"That's not how that works, pal!" Barry interceded. "I am an extrasensory being. I can sense what you're fucking saying even if you can't see me. So geck at me all you want, I'll just chop off your heads."

"Okay - okay - we understand," Irene said.

"It was a car accident," Dirk continued. "I woke up in hospital and I had killed a man. And his son was waiting outside with his mom. They were waiting to see me. A few months later, Zheng wants to see me again. He needs a father figure in his life. I invited him over to dinner."

I spun the couch around to the dinner table, the warm kitchen light holding the sofa in a new glow. I held the rifle and sword in separate hands and sat down, minding the utility belt. Barry sat down next to me, making a gesture to the Richards to resume.

"We still don't know how he did it," Irene said. "It was... crazy."

"Did what?" I asked.

"It started the morning after that night. Jonah's arms stopped working. He had no control over them. We're telling you the truth, you can... you can search up medical records or... or something. We went to the hospital and the doctors had never seen anything like it before."

"Then I got a text from Zheng to meet him at this diner which we had met at before," Dirk said. "And he's a fucking psychopath. He tells me about the four stages of misfortune that he will put my family through. My entire family, not just Jonah."

"What stages?" Barry asked. "And don't go on a spiel, just tell them to me straight. Or I'll make all your diced up pieces fit in that running culvert out there." I looked at Barry, displaying dissatisfaction by shaking my head.

"One, arms stop working. Two, hunger almost constantly. Three, teeth start falling out. And four, death."

"Well, the kids look alive and jaunty to me," I said.

"Yeah, through months of rehab and therapy," Irene said. "Jonah was already up to the third stage before Dirk could act. Elane and Ovi were up to the second stage."

"So he told you what was going to happen to your family and it came true?" Barry asked. "I don't think you realise we have crystal balls for that."

"We're not talking about those independent feminine wiles in tents at night on the beach," Irene said. "We're talking about this boy, plaguing our minds and bodies with this incessant rotten foul thought. And he offered Dirk an ultimatum..."

"Kill one family member or all will die..." Dirk said. "Tormented and disfigured."

Suddenly, all the pieces came together and answers unveiled themselves through that sentence alone.

I roared, "So it was you," jumping up from the couch and pointing a finger at Dirk. "You! Killed your daughter... you sick bastard, you who killed her."

I threw down my mask in anger and disgust at such evil, presiding in such a weak man with a big shape and mild emotions driven by family values mistaken as ethical.

"And then you covered it up saying she died from sickness - you are the sickness... the ill intent," I spat, "the thorn in my side. And you were lying the whole time, I should kill you where you lie." I tossed the rifle down to Barry who still sat, perched on his knees, listening to me intently but also to the breathing pattern of the Richards. If it faltered or jumped, he found enjoyment in it, for I was terrorising them and inciting a memory they would never forget.

"And torturing Zheng, it's your version of revenge for what he did to your family. This toxic cycle of revenge. But it is in fact you who pulled the trigger, I'm assuming. Out of this rifle perhaps? I have acclimated to this destructive household and although it would be a contravention to kill anyone, I will rid this world of you just so authorities do not find out what you are. A MONSTER! And I am sorry, Irene, but I must renege on my promise to you. Like I warned, the promise was not contractually ironclad. I cannot under any circumstances neglect your children anymore. They are silent witnesses to their father's atrocities against humanity, and so are you, ergo you and your children will be treated accordingly."

A slow clap started by Barry. Irene's face was blanched. Even the warmness of the light provided no colour. Dirk glared at me with that face on his face. That same face he's concocted rather intuitively since he woke up from his headrest. Barry's clapping turned into shallow clicks in my ear.

"Bravo, Anton!" Barry exclaimed. "Didn't know you had it in you. Encore, encore!" He was unusually hyperactive after previously being quiescent during my interrogation. Maybe what I said were his words, I thought. I would never use those words. Is he controlling what I say? Why is he having control? I should have complete control. Is it a sign of an inner debutante to the spotlight of my mind? Another personality? How would I know? What if everyone in this room was a personality? What if this isn't real?