"I told you he'd snap," Kim glowered, puffing a lungful of smoke in the air. "I've always known he's nothing like his father. Now, you've seen it yourself, what more could he prove for you to believe me?"

Elbows leaning against the rusty railings of hospital balcony, Kaiser shrugged. "What a shame. He could be the best leader of the organization."

"Hell nah! You really meant what you said before?" Kim caught a breath, brows raising in disbelief. "Mr. Hunt already chose you years ago over his own son. What is there too muzzy for you not to understand?"

"Scott is like a brother to me. That's what I'm taking into consideration," Kaiser drew himself a chastened sigh. "I was hopeful I could lead him to the path Mr. Hunt wanted him to trail. I was wrong."

With a vigorous sniff, Kim rolled her eyes, moved closer, and brushed her lips against Kaiser's. Although he had the urge to respond, his melancholy stopped him. "We're not doing this now, Kimberly," he placed a hand between them both. "Junel's here. Have a little respect."

Kim scoffed. "Respect, my ass! When in hell did you ever think about that?" She watched the realization crossed Kaiser's face and shook her head. "Fine. Just head downstairs after you finish your little drama."

When Kim left, Kaiser couldn't help, but remember what had happened back at the coffee shop. He knew Kim made deep points and he had actually seen Scott's actions coming. If he survives, there's no doubt he'd probe and might even get in their way. Kaiser stepped back when a black moth flew past his nose and from that standpoint, he saw the break of dawn.

"Stay asleep, my friend," he whispered against the forlorn atmosphere. Demise of crumbling anticipation, mayhap, yet not a demise he should be worrying. Soon enough, the news will reach Mr. Hunt and in no doubt, Scott would be isolated-yet again-such as before. A slow demise, truly.

***

"Don't think too much about it," Christian cautiously whispered, trying to lift up his girlfriend's spirit, but his voice couldn't seem to reach her and it's understandable, so he decided to exit the bathroom and let her contemplate about the things that might help her get over what happened that night.

Kathleen crouched, hugged her knees to her chest, and placed her chin above them. The warm and scented water, filling the bath tub she's in, couldn't seem to erasethe color and the smell of Scott's blood stained on her body and it's fretting her even more.

"What should I do, Shane?" She muttered. "I don't understand anything..." her voice turned into soft sobs. "I want you back so bad, but I'm so scared."

Looking at her own reflection on the rippling water, a voice suddenly surfaced. It's coming from a man, but everything he's saying ain't audible-and it's not Christian. Curiosity led Kathleen's arm stretching towards the bathrobe hanging on the marbled wall, wore it, and carefully walked outside.

She slowly opened the door to see no one in the living room. Even Christian's not around.

"Love?" Kathleen called; no one answered. "Love? Where are you?" She walked towards the kitchen, hoping Christian might haven't just heard her yet no one's there still.

"Where's that man?!" She hissed and was about to go back to the bathroom when she saw akitchen knife on the countertops.

Her eyebrows met. It's still hours before Christian usually cooks for breakfast; above all, he hates leaving his precious kitchen utensils unattended. It's an unusual sight. She stepped forward and stopped when she felt a pair of arms wrapped around her waist.

"I didn't expect you'd come out fast," Christian's lavender breath brushed against her ear that she cringed.

"I-I thought I heard someone," Kathleen sought. "You're cooking early?" She felt Christian's forehead stroke against the back of her head when he nodded.

"Yeah, what do you wanna eat?"

"I'm craving for white pasta."

"Alright. Get dressed. It'll be ready before you come back."

Christian removed her arms and headed towards the kitchen. Kathleen didn't bother looking at him and went to their room right ahead which was only across the kitchen.

Within an ace of opening the door, a familiar melody-a song-glued her feet on the floor-it's that lullaby!

"Uhmm hmm hmm~ tilitili bom... zakroy glaza skoreye!"

It seems as though a freezing wind stroke Kathleen from behind which numbed her entire body. She just got out of the bathtub yet the liquids which were now crawling down her temples are sweats from dreadful perception. She slowly looked down her bathrobe and her eyes wobbled. She was covered with mud.

"Kto-to khadit za oknom, I stuchitsya v dveri."

The person in the kitchen continued humming and the more she listens, the clearer the scenes on her mind are becoming. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Kathleen swallowed. She wanted to check him, but she's too scared to what she might see. Her breaths became crucial; she knows, by far, she'd be in trouble if she doesn't act soon.

"Love?"

She gasped when he spoke. This time, his voice had gone low and husky. "Love, can you taste this for me, please?"

Kathleen didn't move still, not until she heard quick, sharp sounds of a knife chopping against the board and what she saw left her screaming.