Despite the bright daylight outside, Nathan's apartment was dark, dismal even. Or perhaps it was the eyes that Sully looked through that made it appear so gray and lifeless. Eyes that knew that knew this was the site of one of the great tragedies of his life, that had their color-sensing abilities shocked into numbness. Eyes that beheld the scene through the gray-tinted lenses of sorrow.
Sully locked the door behind him. He flipped the switch by the door, and the room burst into light. The apartment looked much the same as Sully remembered it from his last visit. A few new photographs, pieces of artworks, and several new antiques on the shelves… and a plant by the door? Probably Elena's doing.
The room felt cold. At first, Sully figured this must've been the effect of his feelings about the place, before he realized the apartment itself was completely silent. No heater running. The cops must've turned it off after they left. Or a penny-pinching landlord who didn't want to get stuck with an unpaid utility bill charged to a dead man. Sully turned to the thermostat, just to the right of the entryway, and flipped on the heat. Nathan Drake deserved better than some cheapskate cost-cutting move that turned his home into a meat locker.
Sully's eyes lit upon another incongruity with his last visit. Nathan's holster and belt sat near the door. Sully hesitated, then picked up the belt. It was of rugged, sturdy beige leather, and had been put to the test on many an adventurous trek in sites around the globe. Nathan's constant companion for nearly a decade, the very sight of the belt triggered a flood of memories – a stain from Turkey, a muddy smear from Indonesia, a spot of blood from an unfortunate run-in with mercenaries in Syria. Adventures that the two had shared together. Yet another thing that could never be the same again.
Sully put on the belt and fastened the holster in place, taking a deep breath as he did so. The whole thing felt…weird. It was almost as though Sully were defiling something important, taking his most often-used possession before his body was even in the ground – the funeral having been postponed until Chloe could be reached from god knows where. Yet at the same time, wearing the belt felt good, as though Sully were taking on some sort of mantle that his friend had left behind – like by picking up and wearing something that was so closely associated with him, Nathan was able to live on through him. As though Nathan were passing on some sort of torch from beyond the grave. Or perhaps Sully was just being sentimental.
Sully walked through the living room toward the room he felt he most needed to visit, the room he dreaded going into. The bedroom.
Pursing his lips and taking a deep breath through his nostrils, Sully looked at the bedroom door. The door hung off-kilter on its hinges, there being a slight discrepancy in the gap between the door and frame. Old door? Or… the signs of struggle, as Sully inched it open – revealing scruffs on the door itself – told Sully it was damaged through force. Impacting something. Had Nathan accidentally slammed it on a ladder or a chair or something? Strange, clenching his eyes tight and taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door. Slowly, fearfully, he opened his eyes and peered into the darkened room.
And sucked in a sharp breath as he beheld the scene of horror.
To the dispassionate observer, it wasn't much as far as scenes of horror went….
Will finish chapter later?