Kristoph wasn't sure how long he was unconscious. It could have been minutes, hours, even days. When the boy gradually began to stir, the first thing he noticed was the scent of fresh spring air that filled the room.
Am I…finally out of that room?
His eyes blinked groggily, only to be met with blurry, indistinct shapes and colors. Kristoph reached out and fumbled for his glasses before touching the cool rims on the nightstand next to him. He put them on and peered around the room, trying to recognize his location. He was resting on a small white bed in the back of what looked like the guest's room—a room Kristoph barely stepped in, given his parents' distaste for having visitors sleep over. Poppies were placed in glass vases under the open windows, which let in a fresh spring breeze that made the light blue curtains sway.
As Kristoph observed the contents of the room, a pang of disappointment tugged at his chest. As unlikely as it would have been, Kristoph was hoping that someone would have been with him when he woke up. He tried to push the feeling in the back of his mind as he recalled the events that happened before he passed out.
If Father left me to die, then why am I here? Maybe he didn't try to kill me…maybe I'm just losing my mind, like he is. That must be it. I'm just paranoid…maybe I misinterpreted what he wrote. He wouldn't actually try to kill me, right? I am his son, after all.
Ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he was wrong, Kristoph moved his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. When his feet touched the ground, he felt something hard and solid under the weight of his foot. Quickly changing his position, the boy bent down to pick up the green book near the bed.
That would've been something, me surviving the South Room, only to die tripping and breaking my neck because of this stupid book. Hmmm, wait a minute…this is Klavier's math book.
Feelings of happiness and relief rushed over the boy as he sat on the bed and flipped through the pages. He pulled out the homework sheets stuffed in the textbook and tried to spot a date.
It's not on this one…or this one…and not on this one either. My God, his handwriting is atrocious. How could I have let that slip by? I normally tell him to erase his papers unless the writing's at least halfway decent. Although I can't recall actually teaching him fractions…in fact, I'm positive I never did.
Kristoph stared at the paper as the sudden realization dawned on him.
He knew how to do this all along. He never even needed me in the first place.
The elation Kristoph felt earlier evaporated, leaving behind a residue of grief and betrayal. Konstantin's cold words from before reverberated throughout Kristoph's mind. He wasn't needed. Klavier knew how to solve the problems all along.
Perhaps God had a sense of humor—a few seconds later, a creaking sound was heard and Kristoph spun around, only to see his brother's unruly blonde head peeping through the doorway. Upon seeing his elder brother, the small boy's face broke out in a grin as he quickly shut the door and bounded over to his brother's side.
"Kris! You woke up! Fiiiiiinally!" Klavier tilted his head as he looked at his older brother, who was staring blankly out the window. "Are you okay? I can ask Sophia to make some medicine or-"
"Klavier, do you really need my help in math? Or is it just a waste of both our time?"
Klavier's eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights. "U-um, I didn't…I—I don't know what—"
His denial stoked the flame of fury in Kristoph's heart. Kristoph's voice started to rise as Klavier bit his lip and stared at the ground. "I saw your homework in the book. You understand math perfectly. So why did you come to me every night asking for help? Did you think it was funny?"
"No!" he blurted. "I just-I mean, I just wanted-"
"You wanted what?"
"I wanted to spend time with you!" Klavier flushed, but he met his brother's cold eyes without flinching. "You're always away doing something else. You never want to spend time with me! It's always been like that and I don't know why. I thought that maybe if you had to stay with me, then you might want to do it on your own."
Memories of the locket incident raced through Kristoph's mind as he regarded the small boy coolly. This boy, this seven-year old, somehow managed to fashion an elaborate scheme that fooled everyone in the household. It was unbelievable. Kristoph studied Klavier again, who was looking at him with eyes filled with a mix of apology and determination. A new emotion suddenly began to rise in Kristoph: fear.
Although Kristoph considered Klavier his competition regarding their mother's affection, Kristoph always felt a certain satisfaction when Klavier would come by him, asking for help or trying to get his attention. It made him feel as though Kristoph finally beat Klavier for once, knowing that he held some power over the younger boy. He liked being depended on and adored. Now the balance of power in their relationship was shifting, and Kristoph didn't like it.
Kristoph swallowed as he looked at his younger brother, trying to not let his inner turmoil show. "Regardless, the way you went about it was wrong."
"I know…I'm really sorry. It's just I–I mean…" Klavier took a deep breath and looked Kristoph in the eye with a solemn expression on his face. "I did it because you're my brother and I love you, Kristoph."
The room was silent, Kristoph staring at the boy who was shuffling his feet nervously. "I love yous" were sparse in this family—he would hear it from Konstantin sometimes, often when inflicting pain, but Kristoph never believed it. With Klavier, he did. For a split second, Kristoph considered tightly embracing Klavier, forgetting about their parents and their history and just focusing on the pure, innocent little boy standing in front of him.
But he didn't. As much as Kristoph wanted to abandon fifteen years of petty, irrational thoughts, the presence of Katharina hung in the room as if tangible. Suddenly Kristoph wished that Klavier was born somewhere else, far away, where he could have had a sibling that was truly fit to be deserving of that love, and a family deserving of his innocence. Most of all, he hated himself.
"I know it sounds really lame but-"
Klavier was cut off by Kristoph's worn-out right hand resting on his head. The pain from writing was a distant memory as Kristoph gently ran his hands through Klavier's messy blonde strands.
"I understand," he stated simply. Kristoph gave Klavier a small half-smile as the younger boy looked up at his brother with wide eyes. "What day is it?"
Klavier blinked in surprise, not expecting the sudden change in topic. "It's Tuesday. I told Mama I didn't feel so good, and she let me stay home from school. I feel ok though, so you don't have to worry about getting sick. I was just upset about not seeing you for a while. Papa said you went away somewhere, but I knew you wouldn't go without saying goodbye!"
That bastard…"Do you know who brought me in here, and at what time?"
"Ummm, I don't really know. I kind of found this room by accident. I saw Sophia standing by the bed, and she seemed really surprised to see me. She told me not to mention that you were here to anyone."
So Sophia knows. "Where is she now?"
"Mama sent her somewhere, but I forgot where."
"What about Mother and…Father? Do they know?"
"I don't think so. I haven't seen Papa since yesterday night, and he said him and Mama were going to be staying in their room today."
Kristoph felt his heart sink. Please be okay, Mother…
"Klavier did…anyone try to harm you?"
"No. Why would someone try to hurt me? I didn't do anything bad recently!"
Kristoph gave a small sigh of relief. Even after Kristoph read those horrible papers on Konstantin's desk, Klavier was still safe. Maybe I interpreted them wrong? Or maybe he's waiting…
"Hey, Kris, did you drop something? I see something silver on the bed."
Klavier pointed to a silver object partially covered by the white sheets. Kristoph leaned over and grabbed the small item. Realizing what it was, Kristoph almost laughed. It was the key, which slipped out of his pockets and into the sheets. The same god-forsaken silver key that got him into this whole mess. Kristoph quietly slipped the key back in his pocket before a low growl interrupted his thoughts.
He turned to look at Klavier, who blushed. "Sorry, I didn't eat breakfast. I was worried about you, so I came here instead. I'm gonna go downstairs and eat something, okay?"
"Wait, Klavier," called Kristoph quickly. Klavier stopped walking towards the door and looked at Kristoph. "You can't tell anyone I'm up, understand? Not even Mama or Sophia."
"Why not?"
"You just can't. Klavier, you have to listen to me carefully. Do you understand?" Klavier nodded tentatively. "Don't tell anyone. Also, after you finish eating, I want you to go upstairs and stay there. Don't come out for anything, okay? No matter what you hear, only come downstairs if I tell you to. You can't even listen to Sophia if she tells you to."
"But…" Klavier was about to protest, but saw the look on his brother's face and stopped. "Okay, I won't."
"Good. Now, hurry up and go to your room."
Klavier scooted off, leaving Kristoph alone in the room. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the cool edge of the key. After all that's happened, he never thought he would be foolish enough to try to do what he was about to do. But if what Klavier said was true, Kristoph had no time to waste.
Kristoph quietly slipped out of the guest room and made his way up the stairs. He took the long way to avoid passing his parents' room, and after every corner listened carefully to make sure he wouldn't hear Konstantin's boots echoing through the halls. On any other day he would have been more cautious, but his determination elicited a streak of recklessness. Logic had abandoned him, leaving him fueled by pure emotion.
When he finally reached the wooden door to the North Room, the boy put his ear against it, listening for any motion. After a few seconds, he hurriedly shoved the key in the lock and pushed the door open. The room was empty, though the sunlight dancing through the skylight provided an illusion of warmth.
But Kristoph wasn't focused on that. Instead, his gaze was fixated on a certain splash of black against a sea of white.
When Kristoph was in the North Room earlier, Konstantin's arrival prevented him from taking a peak underneath the cloth. But Kristoph knew there had to be something of significance there. The black was too jarring for the aesthetic of this room.
Kristoph hurried over to the black blanket covering the rectangular shape against the wall. Grabbing a fistful of cloth, Kristoph yanked it away. It was a stack of paintings. Kristoph gently took the top one and moved towards the skylight to get a better look. When finally saw what was depicted in the painting, Kristoph's heart sank as he flipped the picture over to see if there was anything else on it.
The painting was almost identical to the one positioned on the canvas he saw the day before. Only, instead of small yellow lines scattered across the red background, five small, narrow tan ovals of different lengths were present in the picture.
More "art." Ugh….this is turning out to be a complete waste of time…
Kristoph turned to the pile and picked out another painting. This one had what seemed like a larger tan circle, with uneven edges near the top. He wanted to throw the painting against the wall in frustration, but took a deep breath and placed it down gently next to the one with the narrow ovals.
Doubt began to creep into Kristoph's mind. Was he tilting at windmills? Was there a hidden secret in the paintings at all, or was Kristoph becoming as paranoid as his father?
Narrowing his eyes, Kristoph looked at the painting with the circle again. There were four small indentations on the top of the circle and, on closer inspection, Kristoph realized there was a fifth indention on the lower right side. He looked at the painting of the were five ovals, and five indentations. Could there be a connection?
Kristoph leaned over to look at the next painting. On that one, there were several tiny triangles and squares littered throughout the same red background. Some of the triangles and squares were white, while others had a yellowish tint to them. Kristoph sighed in irritation. White shapes, short yellow lines, and a tan circle and ovals. What the hell is this supposed to be?
Kristoph groaned and put a hand to his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. As the tips of his fingers were about to leave his brow, he froze.
He looked at the painting of the ovals, then at his own fingers. He looked at his palm, and then—-
Oh, no. No no no no….
Five ovals, five indentations. Mentally putting the ovals where the indentations in the circle were, the shape created would look just like a hand.
Kristoph began twirling his hair nervously as his heartbeat started to pick up. Small white objects could be teeth. And the yellow lines, what could—oh. Of course.
He stopped mid-twirl. A sudden feeling of dread hit Kristoph like a tidal wave.
Kristoph continued pulling out painting after painting, the gash in his heart widening with each one. Each painting had the same red backdrop, with a different shape drawn on it. One was in the shape of a jellybean. Another was a tan rectangle. Thick, pink, squiggles were spread out over another, while curved, white objects of different shapes and sizes decorated another.
An ear, a forearm, organs, bones…
Kristoph moved a painting of small pink circle–
Fingernails
—before picking up the final painting. What he saw almost made him throw up.
The painting was of two bright blue eyes in the middle of the sea of red. It was the expression of the eyes above all else that nearly induced physical pain on the eldest Gavin sibling. The eyes reflected pure terror, hopelessness, and beseechment.
Numbly stacking the paintings up and draping the black sheet over over them, one thought ran nonstop throughout Kristoph's head:
He's really going to kill Klavier.
He wasn't sure how, or where, or when, but Kristoph knew that Konstantin planned on killing Klavier with his own hands. The bright, tranquil aesthetic of the room was a sharp contrast with the raging whirlwind inside him.
Klavier, my Klavier, is going to die.
Kristoph suddenly felt very alone. He clutched his arms as he leaned up against the door. He couldn't rely on his mother or Sophia to help—Konstantin was always the one with absolute power, and the women would be in danger if they tried to take a stand against him.
Could he go to the police? Hmmn. Konstantin was a powerful judge with friends in high places. If no crime happened, and if the suspicion of murderous intent rested on art interpretation, of all things, Kristoph knew he would get laughed out of the precinct.
Kristoph's one small advantage was that Konstantin, presumably, didn't know Kristoph escaped the South Room. It was up to him to protect Klavier, no matter what the cost.
But…why?
Why should he risk his safety for Klavier?
Because he's my brother. Because he loves me, needs me, depends on me.
But he doesn't depend on you. That was a lie.
It might have been a lie, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm his brother. It's my obligation to help him no matter what.
Just like it is a father's obligation to protect his children?
That's different…Klavier's always trusted me, I can't betray his trust now!
Why not?
Because it's not right!
What makes something 'right'? Right and wrong, light and dark, God and Satan. Are they really that different? Do you even want to help Klavier? He's stolen all of Mother's attention since the moment he was born.
I know, but…it doesn't matter. No matter how Mother factors into this, Klavier is my younger brother who has always cherished me. He needs me. I know he does.
Maybe you're the one who needs him.
Maybe. The only thing I know for sure is that I can't let him die. I'll do anything I have to in order to protect him.
Ignoring the mental battle raging in his head, Kristoph made his way to the door and rushed through the hallway and down the steps. His head started pounding as he raised his sore hand to his brow. His head was hurting like crazy, but he didn't care. All that mattered now was Klavier.
An outlandish, vague thought entered the back of his mind, slowly but surely worming its way to his consciousness. If Kristoph was in any other state of mind, he would have ignored it, but his emotions got the better of him as he grabbed the idea and clung on to it like a holy relic. He increased his pace and made his way to the kitchen. What he was thinking of was unethical, illegal, and dangerous, not to mention completely insane.
There's no way I almost died once, and now I'm practically asking for another death wish. No sane person would ever think about doing this.
Kristoph bit down on his lip, but a small, twisted grin managed to fight its way to the forefront anyway. He was a Gavin after all; since when did morals or sanity ever matter?
I'm going to kill Konstantin Gavin.