A Cure for the Blind

Chapter 43 - No Redemption

Chapter Forty-Three

No Redemption

Victor paced the small living room furiously, his mind working at full speed. He was still digesting the new and important information he had acquired just a few minutes ago, though he couldn't quite get to where he knew he needed to be.

Something was missing, some important conclusion he knew was a game changer. He knew it was there, right in front of him, yet, for some reason, he was not fully seeing it. It frustrated him, for he was used to understand things quickly.

"Jonathan Hazenberg... He was Samuel Black's apprentice; he helped conduct the investigation... Do you know what that means?" he asked his friend, without stopping his frantic pacing and without taking his eyes off the ground.

"Unfortunately, I think I do," Preshea replied.

"It means I will have to kill him as well," he continued, as if she had never spoken.

"Oh, Victor..."

"Chances were I would have to do it anyway, sooner or later. At least now I can do it with pleasure," he grinned.

"With pleasure?" she repeated, her voice cracking.

"Yes." Victor finally looked at her with an expression of surprise, as if what he was saying was supposed to be obvious. "He's guilty. As guilty as any other who has met the same fate at my hands. Now I can do it without the act weighting down on my consciousness."

"You talk of committing murder... with pleasure? Without it weighting down on your consciousness?"

"Of course," he answered, once again looking at her as if he was speaking an undeniable, expected truth. "It is not murder; it is punishment, redemption, salvation."

"How did it come to this, Victor?" she whispered.

Victor finally stopped walking and decided to prepare himself a glass of whiskey. "You know how."

"How did you turn to this?"

He studied his friend. Preshea's tone was one of sadness, yet her expression was one of anger, as if it made her mad that he was who he was.

Victor took a sip of his drink and smiled with bitterness. "They made me, Preshea."

"Victor... I can't keep doing this," she told him, with pain written in her eyes. "I can't keep pretending this is alright. I..." Preshea took a deep breath a faced him with determination. "I love you. I always have."

"Then you should understand." He tore his eyes away from her, like he couldn't bear to face her at the moment.

"No!" Preshea got up from her seat and demanded his attention by grabbing his shoulder and turning him to her. "It is because I love you that I can't watch you do this! It is because I love you that I miss you so much... I can't be a part of your destruction. Not anymore."

Victor struggled and freed himself from her grasp. He walked a few feet away, almost as if her proximity burned him. "I was destroyed a long time ago."

"I know," she whispered. "But I always hoped you would come back to me."

"I did," he smiled. "Just not the same. Just not the way you wanted."

"It is not too late!" she spoke with desperation, walking to him again and latching onto his jacket. "There is still a way-"

Victor grabbed her hands and pulled them away from him, looking away and sighing, almost with annoyance. "Not this again, Preshea, please."