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I move into another room on the same floor. This one overlooks the garden from a new angle. I still see men swirling around the carpet of lush grass underneath the willow trees where Kolya has been holding court, though I no longer see him among them. In the distance, I spot a tennis facility, a swimming pool, a second one. It feels like his land stretches on forever. Does he have more people like me stashed away, I wonder? A fair maiden trapped in every tower?
I make my way down to the second floor landing without being seen. I can hear sounds coming from somewhere on this wing. Voices chattering, though with the slightest of crackles mixed in. A TV, maybe?
I follow the noise to the source. The sound is coming from behind a black door without a handle. Curiosity gets the better of me. I place my palm on the door and it shifts forward easily and silently. Like it was waiting for me.
I step in. The door floats closed behind me.
When my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize I’m standing in a home theater. The walls, floors, and ceiling are all pitch black, though skinny strips of lighting mark the path to the handful of seats.
But my attention is caught on the screen.
The footage has the grainy, yellowish tint of a home movie. Two young boys, both eerily familiar, though I’m positive I’ve never seen either of them before.
They’re playfighting like a pair of little pups, pawing and struggling with each other. But whenever the camera catches a glimpse of their faces, there’s no joy to be found there. The bigger of the two has a jaw set with grim determination. The younger and smaller one is inexplicably sad.
As I watch, they disentangle. The older boy cracks his knuckles, sets his feet. The younger boy combs his mop of hair out of his eyes and tries to mirror his brother’s posture, but he can’t match the intensity.
“You are doing him no favors by going easy on him, boy,” a voice off-camera growls dangerously. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. “He’s six now, but he will grow. And no one will go easy on him then.”
The older boy grimaces. “But,Otets—”
“Again. Now.”
I watch in horror as the older boy sighs, cracks his neck from side to side, then marches forward and begins to rain blow after blow on the smaller one. At first, the smaller boy holds his hands up to protect himself, but that doesn’t last long before he’s curled up into a pathetic ball on the ground. Blow after blow lands hard and merciless. The wet, meaty sound of flesh meeting flesh. Whimpers. Cries. A red smear of blood on the older boy’s knuckles.
“No!” the child screams. “No,Otets! Pozhaluysta ostanovis. Pozhaluysta!”
I don’t speak whatever language that is. ButHelp medoesn’t need translation.
The older boy’s face has turned into an unfeeling mask. There’s no emotion there as he rails on the little boy. His eyes are light, hazy, distant. He is not in his body right now—he is somewhere far away, hiding from the pain he himself is causing.
The little boy is still wailing. I want to intervene, but by the looks of the grainy footage, I’m a few decades too late.
The older boy flips over the younger one, and for the first time, I see the child’s face clearly. He’s got beautiful features, dark hair…
And a dark birthmark on his chin.
I go to gasp, but the air doesn’t rush into my lungs nearly fast enough. What comes out is more like a strangled scream.
And suddenly, he’s there.
Kolya rises from the darkness like a monster taking shape before me. His splintered blue eyes have never looked so terrifying. Nor have they looked so angry.
And just like that, I realize why the older child on the screen looks so familiar to me.
I never met the boy. But I know the man he became.
The same man who’s looking at me now like he’s about to devour me whole.
11
KOLYA
“What the fuck are you doing in here?”
June’s eyes veer from me to the screen and back again. I grab the remote and kill the film. It gives off an empty blue light that illuminates the horror and disgust on her face.
I can’t blame her for hating what she saw. However much she despises it, I despise it a thousand times more.
