The music stopped as a child’s high-pitch scream echoed through the room. A shrill and blood-curling scream.
Silence.
My heart pounded so loud, I was sure everyone could hear it. Everyone looked at each other fearfully and stared at the room upstairs.
This was supposed to be the best party in our lives. I was an electrical engineer in one of the most successful companies. Since it got nominated as the Highest Ranking Company, our boss threw a party for us in his mansion. It was going fine until we heard the scream.
A lot of people stared at Mr. Ronald, who was curling his lips. He excused himself and climbed upstairs, two steps at a time, putting on gloves.
He pushed open the door and eventually disappeared in the darkness in the room and the door snapped shut.
No one dared to whisper.
Next second, another scream pierced my eardrum. A deeper, hoarse scream.
My heart skipped a beat; I flinched. Blood roared in my ears as I dashed to the exit. There was only one thing flashing through my mind: escape.
I know. Stupid. I probably should’ve called the police or checked what on was going on there myself. But at that time, running felt like the smartest idea I’ve ever had.
I ran home and crashed on the bed. And before I knew it, it was morning, and I could hear sirens wailing outside and a policeman slamming the door.
***
In the police station, I was being questioned over and over again, since I was the one who ran away first. Thankfully, my co-workers managed to prove me innocent; I had been with them the whole time.
The police had found the dead body of a young boy in the heavy cologne smelling room. There were no injury marks, no blood; only his heart had stopped. The doctor said that he’d probably died due to an electric shock, but they weren’t any sources of electricity in the room. Only a wooden table and a closed window.
Mr. Ronald was nowhere. If he was dead, his dead body wasn’t in the room. If he had run away, he wouldn’t have survived the fall from the window. The mansion was pretty high.
When the police let us go, I began to wander around the road, pondering. Who was that boy? Why was he there? What happened to him? Where was Mr. Ronald? Why did they both scream yesterday night?
I came across this familiar abandoned house just a few blocks away from the mansion. There was a pair of shoes and smoke blowing out of the chimney.
Wait, what? Nobody lived there. Then who…?
I went there and touched the doorknob when—
ZAP!
Pain shot up through my arm; I screamed, yanking my hand off, my muscles tightening.
Whoa. I took a minute to breath and took out my insulating rubber gloves, carefully managed to grab hold of the doorknob and enter.
A familiar scent hit my nose- Mr. Ronald’s cologne. There were several self-made gadgets on display. The smoke wasn’t coming from a fireplace, but from a machine with two huge wires connected to a dummy.
There was a man with his back turned to me. Out of curiosity, I asked, “Hello? I-”
ZAP!
It was so fast, I had not seen it coming; the man and pointed something at me, and the next millisecond, pain sheeted through me with a terrible intensity and I slammed against the wall, the back of my head exploding in pain. Eyes watering, I tried to swallow the agony as my eyesight grew clearer, I recoiled in shock.
It was Mr. Ronald.
***
He rushed to me, dropping the big object he had used to almost kill me. He wailed, tearing his hair, his face white as the face of a kid on a rollercoaster. He slapped himself, wailing louder and louder. He rushed to a corner, where there was a large plastic bottle. It wasn’t until he poured the liquid on him that I realized it was petrol.
“Stop!” My voice cracked. “Wha-?”
“I’m the worst father!” he muttered, pouring the entire content.
“But what have you done?”
Mr. Ronald dropped on the floor, hugging his knees. What happened?
Also, he was a father? Since when?
“That night,” he started, “held all of my gadgets. No one’s allowed to go there. But my son… he… he went in and… and…”
He sobbed. I wanted to console him, but my legs were paralyzed.
“I went and tried to switch that gadget off, but… I made it worse… and… he… I shouldn’t’ve kept it in my house …” He began blaming and hitting himself.
Even though it was an accident, he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t know what to do.
