Chapter 1
It was always hard coming back to the apartment. Not because it was on the fourth floor and you lost the will to climb on the second. No, it was something else. Something in the stairs, undoubtedly. The way every step took something from you, drained you of everything thought you were and everything you wanted to be. Until you were standing at that door, looming over you like a tomb.
It was just the apartment now. Just him.
Harry took a deep breath, staring at the door handle, hoping he could somehow see through the metal and know what was happening on the inside. It was ridiculous, this irrational fear that filled him every time he came home. He thought it had something to do with the apartment being in such a tall building, there was a window right next to the door and every time he walked through he was reminded of how high up they actually lived. He pleaded with Tom to change the layout for days, but knew it was pointless from the start.
Harry closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the knob was already turning, almost slipping in his clammy hand. He opened the door as softly as he could, avoiding any unnecessary noise, trying not to disturb Tom, who was probably still working his office.
He sneaked into the apartment, ignoring the taunting window to his left. He closed the door in a trance and put the key on the kitchen table. All the fear and tension left him the moment he stepped through the door. He was in Tom’s realm now. The light was off in the living room, and Harry swiftly moved to the bathroom to clean his hands, as he did every day. Tom usually finished working in his office around five, after which he decided whether they would be going out for dinner or if Harry would be cooking that night.
He turned to the sink, eyes flying over the bathroom. Then he froze. Because in the bathtub — the bathtub he meticulously cleaned every Sunday — was a pale and unmoving body of a young girl. Her blonde hair floating in the murky water, spread out like a halo or flowery crown. Eyes pale and unseeing, staring ahead.
Where was the wound? The water was a brownish pink hue, clearly too dark for a cut, but too light for a large gash that would bleed more heavily. He wondered if the bathtub would stain. It wouldn’t be the first time he was cleaning it of blood, though there has never been this much. There was never a body to accompany it either. He might have to use a stronger bleach than usual, lest they be stuck with a pink bathtub. Tom would hate that, he hated anything with even a smidge of colour. The apartment was all black and white.
He suddenly felt hands shaking him out of his stupor, and then a harsh slap to the left side of his face, bringing Tom’s angry face into focus.
“Harry? What are you doing? I told you to get a trash bag, make yourself useful.” He was already draining the water from the tub and putting on rubber kitchen gloves, apparently untouched by the dead body in front of him.
„Tom… Tom what.. What did you do?”
„Can you just do what I tell you for once? Harry, I don’t have the energy for your bullshit today. Just help me get rid of the mess, the tub is going to stain and it will be your fault.” The exasperation verging into the realms of annoyance would have easily swiped Harry off the battle field every other day, but there was a girl in their bathtub today, and Tom was being absurd.
“What? No, no, we need to call the police, her family will be looking for her. We can’t just…” This was all wrong, they couldn’t just pretend this never happened. There would be people looking for her, missing her. Wondering where she had gone to, why she left.
“Harry, darling, I need you to focus for me. What do you think people will think when they find a body in our bathroom, full of our fingerprints?” He was running out of patience, the softness in his voice turning to thinly veiled agression. His eyes, cold and hard mercilessly dug into Harry’s soul and undermined his every thought.
“Then we’ll tell them the truth, they have ways of checking things like that. Tom, this is crazy…” He trailed of, as Tom straightened his back, jaw clenched, and stepped closer to him. Harry fought not to flinch back, as he tried to look Tom in the eyes but ended up lowering his gaze to the bridge of his nose.
“And what do you think happened? You think she just appeared in our bathtub randomly in the middle of the day? Think, Harry. If anybody finds out about this, we’ll be arrested. And I will be fine,” he continued, advancing on Harry, who backed up until his back hit the wall. Speaking in a harsh whisper, that cut through the younger’s thoughts like a scalpel “You and I both know I won’t spend more than two weeks in prison. But you?”
Tom’s mocking laugh and cruelly amused eyes peeled back the layers of Harry’s soul until all that remained was a disquieting, animalistic fear.
“Your family will be glad to hear you were somebody else’s problem now. You know very well they won’t think twice before leaving you to rot in prison. And you know what happens to pretty little things like you there.” He put his hands on Harry’s cheeks, enveloping his face in a merciless grip “I care for you. I always have. I’m doing this for your own good, don’t you see? If you’d rather, I can just let you deal with this mess, since apparently you can’t even fetch me a trash bag.” He finished harshly, letting go of his face, and starting to take off the gloves.
Harry leaned against the door. The room was starting to reek. He turned towards the kitchen.