"It´s been a while." Thought Scratch striding nostalgically into the old house in a suburb of Petropolis with a petrol can in his hand. Already when he opened the door this familiar smell reached his nostrils and caused a firework of memories and flashbacks in his mind.
The smell of a once happy house which was empty now. His sense of smell wasn´t the best anymore after this little incident in Moscow has happened, however he was still able to recognize every nuance of this smell.
While he pulled the air through his nose into his lungs he permanently saw memories flashing up in front of his mind´s eye. How they had lunch in the kitchen, how his Mom scolded him for coming home late, even if he was already 21 years old, and many other precious memories.
Scratch felt like somebody was pushing a knife slowly into his chest the longer he breathed the smell in. He couldn´t endure being in this his house. Since the day of the massacre he hadn´t entered it again. Why should he? Nothing bound him to this house anymore. Nothing except the memory.
His way through the house led him upstairs first, to his mother´s former room. The old martial bed was still made properly. It looked exactly like the day his mother left the house for the last time. Nothing changed, except the thick layer of dust which formed in the last seven years.
Scratch looked around for a while. Again all this memories rushed like powerful waves through his mind. And he felt the knife that cut into his chest even harder now. A part of him wished he had never entered the house.
Determined, and without deigning another look to anything else in the room, Scratch walked to the little bedside table and opened the drawer of it. A heavy photo album was the only thing that the drawer contained. And it was exactly the thing he was looking for. If one thing should survive the thing that happens next then it shall be this pictured family chronic.
Scratch brushed the dust from the book and a smile sneaked up his face. "We also had good times." He thought as he left the room. Of course there were good times. Actually a lot more than bad. But the evil is a powerful force. One bad thing can cast a shadow over thousands of good things.
On his way back to the basement Scratch stopped at the door of his old room. Like in his mother´s room nothing has changed here but in a contrary to her old room his bed was unmade and his room was unbelievable untidy. A lot of black shirts lay scattered on the floor.
He didn´t take them with him as he left. Back then he just left with the things he wore and all the money he had in cash. He didn´t need more and he didn´t want more. It was his intention to leave everything, so he left everything back.
In a retrospective it was of course pretty stupid to leave all his clothes back. Now he didn´t care anymore, he had completely new wardrobe which also included pants. So in the end leaving all behind was a win for his style. A last time gazed Scratch at the pile of laundry then he turned away from it and walked down the stairs into the kitchen.
He put the heavy petrol can, he carried around all the time, on the table, snatched one of the dusty chairs and sat down. Lost in old memories unscrewed Scratch the top of the petrol can and let the fuel fumes reach his nose.
He didn´t know in that moment if it were these fumes or just the dusty kitchen that brought up an old memory from the depths of his mind. Not just any memory of course, his mind played a special scene from his past. Like a movie he saw his mother sitting on the table. She stared pensively into a cup of tea as Scratch´s former self entered the room.
"Hi Mom! You´re looking forward to the parade?" called his older-ego, Dudley Puppy, happily to his mother. Peg Puppy averted here gaze from her cup. Her eyes distorted to small slits as she spotted her son coming into the house. "Where have you been?!" she hissed angrily.
"Uhm… at my new apartment." answered Dudley obviously confused.
"New apartment?! You haven´t told me that!"
"Yes I have!" meant Dudley defensively. "I told you a month ago that I move together with Kitty. But you just started to get worked up! And what do you think where I was the last month?!"
"What you are still together with this cat?! I thought I forbid you to meet her!" shouted Peg shocked.
"I know. And I said that I don´t give a damn if you forbid it or not." Said Dudley calmly. He forced himself not to smile in this moment. He didn´t know why but he enjoyed this little rebellion against his mother.
"Dudley Puppy!" yelled Peg. "How dare you to not obey to your mother! For the last time, you´ll not meet this cat ever again."
"And I tell you for the last time that I don´t care. I love her." Peg almost went through the roof as she heard that.
"You love HER?!" she screamed. "This slut?!"
"DON´T YOU DARE CALLING HER LIKE THAT!" it burst out of Dudley.
"I CALL THIS BITCH HOW I WANT!" screamed Peg back and glared angry at her soon.
Dudley bore the look of his mother and replied with an equally angry one. Both stared at each other for a while until Peg raised her voice. "I want a decision Dudley. Kitty or me."
Dudley backed shocked off his mother. "You can´t make me do that." He gasped.
"I can." Meant Peg firmly.
"I love you Mom… but no. I will not leave Kitty just because you want me too. It´s my life and I´m old enough to make my own decisions." Dudley turned around and walked out of the kitchen. However, he was still able to hear his mother saying. "Yeah you are… and you just made one."
Scratch watched in silent the last conversation he had with his mother then he stood up and picked the patrol can up again. "I wish the whole thing had another end Mom. I really do." He said before he began to spill the gasoline on the ground.
Scratch did that very carefully and not stopped until every centimeter of the basement, that was necessary for setting the house on fire, was soaked with the easy inflammable fluid. He also poured fuel on the little path that led to the sidewalk. As he was done and the can empty he took a last look at his old home. His hand glided into the inner of his coat and pulled a lighter out. "Today I plant a new flower on a fertile ground."
With his thumb he moved the flint on the cheap plastic lighter. A little flame was created which rose quickly as it came in touch with the fuel on the ground. A carpet made from fire spread over the little path and entered the house. It didn´t take a long time as the first black smoke left the house. Within a short time the whole building was finally embraced by the flames.
"Ash is fertile ground." Whispered Scratch as he watched how his youth burnt down. The view wasn´t as pleasant as he imagined. He thought it would be kind of releasing seeing the house burn and knowing that now all bridges to his old life, knowing that no one could identify him as Dudley Puppy except those who already know… But he thought wrong.
The sudden vibration of his smartphone in his pocket distracted him from the fire. "What is it?" he yelled annoyed in the speaker.
"Scratch, this is Parva. I got some news about Richards."
"Okay, then spit it out." He growled.
"Seems like someone is angry, huh?" laughed Parva. "Alright straight to the point. Richards is now in T.U.F.F. arrest. The new chief… Spotrunner I think, ordered that. Call me crazy but I think that´s a trap."
"Oh come on…" sighed Scratch annoyed. "Of course that´s a trap. And that will make the whole thing more complicated."
"Right." Replied Parva. "Any ideas?"
"Hmm..." Scratch scratched the back of his head in thoughts. He needed an idea and that fast. T.U.F.F. is maybe trying to lure him into a trap but they are showing a weakness by presenting him Richards on a silver plate and he didn´t know how long they would do that. A bit hopeless he stared into the flames.
"Uhm… Scratch?" Parva called a bit worried from the speaker as Scratch hadn´t replied for a while.
"I got it!" shouted Scratch suddenly. "But I need a few things for that."
"And what?" Scratch could hear in the background how Parva got a piece of paper and a pencil.
"The information about T.U.F.F.´s fire protection and the number of this special effects guy Seneca knows. Oh and call Snaptrap, Catastrophe and Rabies, Birdbrain, the Chameleon… and even F.L.O.P.P.. Say them that I need their help and that it wouldn´t be to their disadvantage. I think the best is gathering them all in a restaurant or something… bring them to Snap in the box."
"Interesting… So burning this house gave you some ideas, huh?"
"Yes, it does."
"I suppose you don´t want the special effects guy´s number because you want to date him, do you?" giggled Parva mischievously. "So you plan something special?"
"Yep, something really special." Said Scratch and hung up.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" A voice suddenly drowned the noise of the flames that raged in the house. That confused Scratch, he hadn´t expected any specters for his little barbeque. The figure that stood in the shadows was a bit taller than he was.
By his voice and stature he could tell that it was a male dog. And there was something strange about this guy. Scratch could have sworn that he knew this voice from somewhere.
"WHO ARE YOU?!" The voice screamed as it recognized him.
"Orcus, amicus." Scratch pulled out his gun and cocked it. The figure froze with terror as it saw the gun. It put up its hands and called with a creaking noise. "Please don´t shoot me."
"That depends on a few factors. For example if I like your face, so step into the light and let me look at it."
"Okay…" meant the voice and stepped closer to him.
In the second the orange light of the fire illuminated the face the voice belonged to Scratch knew from where he knew this voice. How could he even forget the dog with the white fur, a big black nose and big blue eyes. The dog that looked so similar to him and not because he had a plastic surgery.
"Stan?!"
Stan Puppy, Scratch´s older brother, stood with his hands in the air in front of the bald head canine with the square glasses.
"From where do you know my name?" replied Stan terrified by the gun.
"That doesn´t matter now. How did you come here?"
"By car… a have a rental…" he stammered.
"Good get in, you drive." With his gun always aimed at his brother Scratch followed Stan to the car and got in.
"Drive me to Clark´s bridge. You know where this is?" growled Scratch questioning.
"Yeah… I grew up here. I know where this is." breathed the white dog fearfully.
"Me too." Giggled Scratch, it amused him that his brother didn´t cognize him.
But it didn´t make him wonder. The years they haven´t seen each other he had changed even more than the ravages of time could have ever change him. But this also offered him a unique chance. He could pull his brothers leg.
His chance to take revenge for all the times Stan pranked him in their childhood.
"…but I don´t live here anymore." Continued Scratch after a whole while. "Too much bad blood to stay here long. But who am I telling that, right Stan?"
"Uhm… Mister…" stammered Stan. "What are you going to do to me?"
"What do you think?" Scratch waved his gun around in front of his brother´s face and demanded him to park the car and get out of it. They were on Clark´s bridge now, a small remote bridge beyond the city limits that led over the narrowest part of the Petropolis river.
Almost like he was accepting his fate Stan walked to the edge of the bridge and turned to Scratch.
"So this is it." Sighed Scratch suppressing the smile that tried to conquer his face.
"Please. Sir…don´t kill me! I don´t want to die!" started Stan. "I have a little daughter, what will she do without me? She needs me. Please… I…"
"Don´t you think that I haven´t heard such things before?" The cold barrel of a gun was pressed on Stan´s forehead. "Any last words?"
"Please don´t kill me."
"…Okay." Laughed Scratch manically and holstered his gun.
"What?" Stan stared at Scratch with his mouth wide open. "But… how…what…who…why?!"
"Oh that´s easy, I usually not kill family members. Even I have limits." Scratch grabbed his brother and pulled him into a hug.
"Uh… Pardon? Family member? Are we somehow related?"
"I´m a little insulted now." Giggled Scratch. "You still don´t recognize your own brother?"
"What?" Stan pushed Scratch away from him. "You´re not Dudley!"
"Yes I am."
"No. You´re not! First, you don´t look like Dudley. Second, you don´t sound like Dudley. And third my brother wouldn´t do something like you just did to me." Meant Stan stamping angrily on the ground.
"I once thought something very similar. Then my brother pulled a prank on me on my first year in middle school… At least Mom grounded you for a month for that."
Again Stan´s jaw opened widely. Only someone who was involved in that could have known that. Especially the exact time how long he was grounded. "Really?! Dudley?!"
"Yes." Roared Scratch with delight. "Please, apologize that I scared you. Call me an opportunist but I saw my chance to take revenge for these old stories."
"I should beat the shit out of you for that!" shouted Stan furiously.
"You could." Smirked Scratch. "But I think you would lose this fight. Instead of that we could get back into the car and we speak a bit. I think we haven´t seen each other for more than seven years."
Without deigning another look at his angrily snorting brother he walked to the car and placed himself on the passenger´s seat. His brother would calm down after a few minutes in the fresh air, Scratch was sure about that. Back in their childhood it was the same. If Stan got worked up about something he always went out for a little walk and came back more relaxed.
Scratch prediction came true after a few minutes as Stan flopped down on the driver´s seat.
"I can´t believe you just did that to me." He said igniting the engine.
"I can´t believe that you put once put itching powder in my pants." Replied Scratch baldly.
"Ha! You´re really still angry because of this?"
"Yes" confirmed Scratch. "You ruined pants for me forever."
"Dudley, what…" instead of finishing that sentence Stan pointed on Dudley´s face.
"That is a long… long story. It began with pain and sorrow… but the end is still unwritten. Besides, it´s maybe better you know not too much about it. I would prefer that we talk about you. How´s little Jenny? The last time I saw her she fit into a shoe box."
"Wonderful! She´s doing wonderful!" said Stan with the smile of a proud father. For a short moment he reminded Scratch of Seneca as he talked about his children in this strip club. "She´s ten now. And the best in her class. You should see how eager she is to go to school every morning. And she likes to dance. I have enrolled her for a ballet course…"
Inevitably arose in Scratch´s mind the pictures of the strippers that danced on the poles. Shuddering he forced these snapshot back into the part of his mind where they came from.
"… Anyway, enough of my wonderful little sweetheart. What were you doing the last years? I knew that you were together with that cat the last time we saw each other."
Scratch sighed sadly and looked out of the window. "We broke up."
"Really?" meant Stan wondering. "But you were such a nice couple. I know Mom didn´t like it but she also didn´t like my wife. So, who cares?"
"It wasn´t because of Mom… or at least not just because of that. But after her death I needed some time to clear my mind, you know?"
"I know… after my wife´s death…"
"Wait, Angela is dead?!" it burst out of Scratch.
"Yes. Suicide. Angela was depressive." Stan´s hands, which were holding the steering wheel, now clang to it firmly. "She wrote a letter to explain but… I just don´t want get engrossed into that. What I wanted to say is that I also needed some time to get my head clear. I gave Jenny to Angela´s parents and just drove around. For a month I think. And believe me I would have driven around longer but my daughter needed me. So I had to come back… But I´m over it. I can look into the future now. I hope you can do that too."
Scratch laid his hand on his brother´s shoulder to comfort him. He could feel that he lied. Stan wasn´t over it, no he was far away from being over it. Like him he was still trying to come to terms with a traumatic event in his past. But in a contrary what Scratch did, revenge, he did it by just suppressing his feelings.
"I drive to the hotel. Should I stop somewhere for you?" asked Stan tiredly smiling.
"Do you know where Snap in the box is?"
"This restaurant? Really?"
"Yeah… Let´s say I meet some old friends there and talk with them about business." Smirked Scratch evilly.