Dead Man Walking (Part 3) (Patreon)

Hey guys 👋 Here's the third part of the Dead Man Walking series. This turns out longer than I expected and is supposed to only be one part immediately starting at the funeral.

But then, I decided to start at Viktor visiting the apartment again on the day of the funeral, which basically doubles the word count. I tried finishing the 4th part but it's 3 AM for me here already. But don't worry, I'll release the last part soon 😄

I'm so sorry for the delay and I hope you guys enjoy it!

[Part 1]  [Part 2] [Part 4]

* * * * *

You stand in front of the familiar door, trepidation crawling up your spine and making you feel nauseous. Luka is waiting for you downstairs in his car, and you’re considering turning away and joining him.

No. You need to do this.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself as you unlock the door. It swings open with a creak and you step in gingerly. The whole apartment is dark and quiet.

Too quiet.

Technically, you don’t really need to get out of your boots, but still, you do it. Maybe it’s a force of habit or maybe it’s because it feels like you’re violating a sacred place, as if you’re disturbing the delicate balance by walking in your shoes and trekking in dirt. You walk in even further, the soft sound of your shuffling feet filling the air.

Everything is as you left it on the morning of that fateful day. The lights are turned off and the only light is the dim sunlight streaming in from the windows. And to think just a few days ago, this place was so bright and lively. You are so used to having Sasha running around the apartment and the adorable giggles and talks he often had with Ash. Your heart twinges in pain, and you hold onto the back of one of the dining chairs, the one that Sasha actually sat in during breakfast.

When you first bought this place, you had envisioned a future with your son, raising him to be a fine young man right in this apartment. And for ten peaceful years, everything was perfect. Now, this place is more like a tomb—both for your life and for that future.

You know you won’t ever come back to live here ever again. It’s too painful, you don’t think you’d be able to last even a month.

Taking in a shaky breath, you continue on to your destination: Sasha’s room. You open the door gently, something you’ve done countless times almost every morning when you wake him up for school.

But this time, the bed is empty.

The blanket and sheet are still rumpled, as it has been since that morning. Tiptoeing carefully, you try to not accidentally move any of the stuff sprawled on the floor. It would feel like a sacrilege to tidy things up; you want the room to stay like this, untouched, forever.

As if it would help keep Sasha’s presence alive, your bitter thought supplies unhelpfully and you grit your teeth.

Something glinting under the morning sun draws your attention to Sasha’s bedside table. Bending down, you notice that it’s a ring on a chain—wait, it’s not just any ring. It’s the same ring that you currently have around your neck. A few years ago, Sasha proudly gifted it to you for Father’s Day, while also showing off that he also has the same matching one. Turns out he and Ash had been accumulating tickets in the arcade to trade them for the rings.

They are just cheap, black-colored, stainless steel rings, but to you, they are one of the most precious possessions you have. You take the ring in your hand. It seems like in his haste to get ready for school that morning, Sasha forgot to take this ring with him. You know that he always tried to have it on him at all times.

The chain is too small for you to wear around your neck, so you take out the ring before putting it right beside your ring on your own chain. You clench them tightly in your fist as you reminisce on all the happy times that you had with Sasha.

Bzztt… Bzztt…

The buzzing of your phone in your pocket brings you out of your reverie. You sigh as you take it out and answer it.

“Hey, Vitya. Are you done? Uh… I don’t want to rush you, but we’ll have to go now if we don’t want to be late…” you hear Luka says gently.

“Fine…” you answer curtly before hanging up the call and standing up.

As you pass the dresser, you notice a picture of you and Sasha. You’re carrying him in your arms and the two of you are wearing matching-themed costumes. Ah, this was a couple of years ago. A memorable Halloween celebration for the two of you because Rin and Takashi joined you, Sasha, and Ash.

You smile softly—although it feels more like a grimace—as you reach out. Turning the photo frame, you open it and take out the photo, quickly putting it in your black overcoat’s inner pocket, right above your heart. You know you still have a lot of photos of Sasha in your office, but you don’t have the time or the energy to go dig them out right now.

Maybe one day… Once you’ve finished the one and sole mission in your life. If you’re still alive by the end of it, that is.

You make your way to the front door, grey eyes focused only on what’s in front of you, like a racehorse, instead of taking one last look at the apartment. You need to empty your mind to stop it from recalling the happy—now turned bittersweet—memories you have in this apartment. Putting on your boots again, you step out into the hallway and lock the door behind you.

Once you arrive in the basement again, you see Luka has been waiting in his black Mercedes right in front of the elevator room.

“Got everything you needed?” Luka asks as you open the front passenger door and sit down.

“Not everything. But enough,” you say, fingers idly caressing the pair of rings hanging off your neck.

“Well, we can return here again,” Luka hums as he begins driving out of the basement and out into the street. “Whenever you want, of course,” he adds.

“It’ll be a while until I’m ready to go back again,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

Luka’s gaze flits to you real quick in worry before focusing back on the street. He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it again. You’re thankful that he decides to not ask anything or say some awkward comforting words. You know your little brother meant those words, but he and your parents have never been the best in that kind of stuff.

The silence that stretches between the two of you is still a bit more tense than you like. Although everyone has been mourning, they’ve also been treating you like a glass sculpture that will crack and splinter apart with just a few… wrong words. It’s ridiculous, you’re far from frail. You’re actually rearing for violence, to find the one who gave you this pain and deal upon them the same pain times a hundred.

It feels like slipping back into old and familiar, but also comfortable, clothes.

Looking out the window, you see the heavy dark clouds promising rain later on, hanging above the city and roiling, just like your troubled and jumbled mind. Somehow, you’ve got the feeling that your days will look like this for years to come—or more like for the rest of your life.

It will never get better.

“Sorry for cutting your visit a bit short,” Luka starts, his voice pulling you back to the present. You notice his icy-blue eyes flit worriedly over to you for a millisecond as if he can see your darkening thoughts painted all over your face. Maybe they are, you don’t really care to keep up any mask anymore. “I promised Cara that we’ll pick her and Ash up.”

You nod listlessly. “How has Ash been taking this?” you ask. Honestly, you feel a bit guilty for not trying to meet or comfort them these past few days. Sasha would be so disappointed if he…

You gulp, forcing your choked-up throat to open.

“Not good,” Luka sighs. “They seem inconsolable.”

Viktor hums, “They just need more time, hopefully.”

“Hopefully…” Luka echoes back before the silence settles again and you think back on what you’ve been doing these past few days.

Well, the simple answer is mourning.

You needed your time alone from everyone to do it, and you ended up isolating yourself in your room alone—not the one in your apartment, but the one Luka gave you in the Family Compound.

You spent most of that time sleeping, the only time your mind is at a semblance of peace. If you were lucky, you could sometimes re-experience those happier days with Sasha, but on other days, you’re not so lucky as you were forced to relive the traumatizing moments when your son got shot and was dying in your arms.

The car comes to a halt as Luka pulls up in front of Cara’s apartment building. You were so lost in your thought that you didn’t notice that you were approaching the minimalist and modest building that Cara calls home. She could’ve gotten more luxurious apartments, but she chose this one instead.

When you asked her about it, she only answered that she was not really interested in staying at such an over-the-top abode, especially since the Family would be the one paying for it.

“And would you look at that! Ash already prefers to spend time with Sasha at your apartment instead. And I’m often busy with… stuff. So, it would be a waste of money too,” you remember her saying.

The front door of the building swings open and Cara and Ash walk out, both are wearing black, formal clothes. Cara puts her right arm around Ash’s shoulders comfortingly, steering them towards the car. Ash’s downcast eyes are still red and puffy, and even from this distance, you can see their lips trembling.

Cara opens the back door and ushers Ash in first before following. As she sits down, she grasps your shoulder and squeezes in a silent greeting. You turn around and see that Ash is looking at you with teary green eyes.

“U—Uncle Vik… About Sasha… I—” they finally break down and cry openly, can’t finish the sentence they were about to say. They turn to their mom and muffle their wail on her black suit. Cara hugs them with one hand, rubbing their back comfortingly.

In all the time you’ve seen Ash hang out with Sasha, you’ve never seen them cry or even shed a tear. They’ve always been a tough kid, but you know it must’ve been really hard for them too, losing one of the few people they really care about. Ash and Sasha were almost always joined by the hips.

You frown in sympathy and instinctively reach out to gently pat Ash on the head. They peek at you with one eye, probably embarrassed for crying in front of you and Luka. “It’s okay,” you smile sadly at them.

Whether you meant it’s okay to cry or that everything is going to be okay, you don’t know yourself.

Ash’s wail slowly starts to die down into sobs and sniffles as the journey continues. The next 30 minutes or so are filled with somber silence. You just gaze emptily at the cityscape rising and falling. Slowly, the tall skyscrapers and high-rises dwindle to shorter buildings until even those become scarce and you know your destination is not far now.

Sure enough, the gate to the expansive graveyard comes into view after a few more minutes of driving. Your family doesn’t skimp out on the whole funeral procession, and this is the most expensive and exclusive graveyard in the city.

Luka pulls into the parking lot and it’s already filled with quite a number of black SUVs and a bunch of guards in black suits are milling around. Oh, it seems like your parents are already here.

You step out of the car, followed by Luka, Cara, and Ash. The guards all salute you and your party as you make your way toward the looming funeral home where your Sasha is waiting.