Author's Note: This is quite a graphic chapter so be warned.
Chapter Seventy-One
Henrietta had spent the last few hours cleaning up the house. Wanting to make sure it was alright for Rosa. She even cooked dinner for the older women however she was could only consume things like soup these days. Ethan having avoided his aunt by hiding out in his bedroom. By the night fell, the woman made her way to the spare bedroom to sleep. The one in which Maya use to sleep in as a child. Ethan overheard his aunt going into the bedroom and after a few moments, he made his way over towards there and opened the door back up.
"Go away" Henrietta demanded; not even wanting to look at him. Though he didn't go, he just remained standing at the door.
"It's very stuffy in here" Ethan simply commented in his usual monotone sounding voice.
She could hear him walking a bit behind her, picking up the photo album on the side. Going through all the pictures like he had some sort of right. It was some sort of weak power move, he dared to turn to one of the photographs of Maya from when she was thirteen and wouldn't move the page.
"That was a good long warm Christmas for me...1992" Ethan then spoke up.
"Get out of the room, please" Henrietta pleaded; she felt pathetic. Why could she never stick up to him when it was most important?
"I will take this with me and look at in my bedroom then" Ethan paused slightly, moving slightly closer as he uttered..."I had her in there too"
He gave a little chuckle afterwards, as if he was telling some joke. Like he thought that would lessen what he just said. Sounds of his footsteps leaving the room and sounds of the bedroom door shutting made her turn back around again. Her heartbeat was racing by this point and it wasn't stopping. Her own nephew took pride in saying these disgusting things to her, he had no remorse whatsoever.
...
Hours have passed and soon night fell, Henrietta laying in the old small bed. Though she couldn't sleep, Ethan was playing music very loudly in his snooker room. Which was on purely just to keep her wide awake and nothing else. Unbeknown to her, John was currently trying to break in downstairs. Ethan was none the wiser to how angry he was making them as he drank and swayed around in the room to the sounds of the band 'Pulp'. He was tipsy by this point, a photograph of a young fifteen year old Maya being left out on the snooker table while he did all this. Henrietta laying in bed and listening to this for a while, she was going to get up but decided against it. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction. So apart from the sounds of 'Pulp', the house was silent. The music drained out the sound of John breaking down the front door at last, his angry footsteps sounding more like faint rain drops on the window. He had a thick fallen off branch in his hand as he opened the door, Ethan drinking from a cider can, swaying still as if he was having his own little rave. His radio blasting out the song...
"Common People"
John's rage never died down, it just got stronger when he laid eyes on him again. So the man simply walked over towards him, for the first night in weeks; John wasn't drunk. He knew exactly what he was doing. With a swing of the branch, he hit Ethan round the head. This didn't kill him as the creature laid on the floor (still moving). He dragged himself across the floor to the opposite side, feeling blood on the top of his head.
"I'm glad you got that off your chest, Uncle John" Ethan slurred; baiting him, even now.
This made John hit him a second time over the head, making Ethan finally panic. As he spat out blood. Pleading in a weak sounding voice,
"Please Uncle John, you're like a father to me"
A last ditch attempt at getting on his weak side. Though it was too late, John already saw everything and he knew this was just lies. Looking over at the picture of his now dead daughter (which laid on the snooker table) made him hit Ethan over the head a third time. Making the monster lay his head on the ground, he was still breathing. He was just very weak, his coughs getting more quiet at every swing.
"Please don't kill me...Please" Ethan cried out; using his small ounces of strength to beg.
"You abused my daughter" John reminded him.
"I'm sorry"
Though this weak sorry made the man hit Ethan's back. Making him give out a small groan and a cry. The music was enough to drain out most of it but Henrietta finally heard some voices and got up. She could see inside the snooker room from the bedroom as the door was wide open, she could see John in there.
"John" Henrietta uttered however her voice was too quiet to be heard.
Inside the room, the tension was dwindling somewhat. John was close to putting down the branch and leaving. Ethan coughed again and managed to tell the man...
"Don't do this, your daughter's death was the end of it"
This final display of arrogance finally made John lose it, Ethan had no remorse. He could see that. So he smacked him round the head again...and again...and again. Henrietta cried out as she could hear the sounds of his head making a sort of squishing sound. John dropping the branch as he stepped away from the body. Turning the radio off, making everything totally quiet. He left the room, turning around to face a distraught Henrietta...
"Ettie...I...I didn't know you were here" John spoke in a very shaky of tone. He shut the door however the damage was done.
"Ettie, I'm sorry...So sorry" John kept repeating.
Going to pull her in for a hug however he got rejected, she didn't want him touch her right now as she cried out...
"You got blood on your hands...You got blood on your hands!"
Making him look down upon his own hands, retreating to the bathroom and trying to wash the blood away. Like he's just been out gardening and was trying to wash away mud. Henrietta could barely look at him as she made her way downstairs, sitting down at the bottom of the steps and breaking into tears once again.
"Ettie" John called out again as he had followed her downstairs. Sitting besides her and pulling in her for a hug.
This time she let him as she rested her head on his chest. John was the only normal thing she had left from that era of her life, now she's lost him. Things can never be the same again as she spoke through tears...
"It wasn't provoked"
"I know...Phone the police on me, Ettie"
"I can't"
"Yes you can, if you don't. I will...I am not going to be another dirty little secret of yours. I couldn't do that to you"
"I still love you, John"
This just made him get up as he picked up the house-phone on the side. His ex-wife was in bits. He loved her too, he's never stopped however he couldn't do that to her. Hell would have to freeze over first. That was a revenge attack and he knew it, Ethan Stepney was finally dead.
"I love you too, Ettie" John assured her; ready to dial the police on himself.
"Can't...Can't you just run?" Henrietta managed to ask.
"No more running...This family has done enough of that, you just stay sitting there and I will do this"
The sounds of her sobbing didn't deter him as he finally dialled the three simple numbers. 999. The operator answered and asked what the emergency was...
"I'd like to report a murder"
"Who and where, Sir?"
"I did it and it's at 39 Oxley Street"
"Sorry...You're saying you did it, Sir?"
The police were already on their way by this point and they were simply keeping him on the line.
"I did it...You...You will find the branch I did it with upstairs, Ethan Stepney. I killed Ethan Stepney. My ex-wife is in here and so is my old aunt-in-law, they didn't know I was coming in here" John further expanded.
Making sure nobody besides himself gets in trouble.
"Okay Sir, are you're going to wait for us there?"
"Yeah, I will stay and wait"
Though tears finally came down his cheeks as he said this. He knew this was it, years of Ethan mocking and him hating himself for what his daughter turned into. He finally flipped but he wasn't going to hide from it, he wasn't going to do that. Henrietta wouldn't stop crying as she remained sitting down.
...
TBC
