In vain attempts to reach his mother, Thomas pushed Richard, but Richard shoved him back even harder this time, and Thomas barely kept his footing.
"You're stubborn," Richard sneered. "But look around, Thomas. There's no one here. We're completely alone. And even if someone sees something, they'll stay silent because they're afraid of me. Everyone is afraid of me."
"I still can't believe it. You... you don't even look like yourself anymore."
"You would've spent your whole life looking for the killer and never found him, Thomas, because you're too naive."
"But I knew I couldn't trust you..." Thomas suddenly paused. He began to piece it all together—this man had killed Taylor, Carol, and so many others he didn't even know about. Rage ignited inside him.
"I hate you! I'm ready to kill you right now!" Thomas screamed, spotting a knife lying nearby.
"I placed it there on purpose," Richard said with a sly smile.
Thomas could barely contain himself. He bent down and grabbed the knife.
"How could you kill an innocent girl? How could you leave so many cuts on her stomach? Don't you feel any remorse at all?" Thomas shouted, moving closer to Richard, raising the knife.
Richard didn't resist. Instead, he held out his hand, and Thomas slashed it.
"I love the sight of blood," Richard said, staring at his wounded hand.
Thomas stepped back.
"I hate you," he said, tears filling his eyes. Memories of Carol flooded back—how she lay amidst the piles of garbage, begging for help. He thought of his mother. Was she really alive? Or was Richard lying?
"She's alive," Richard replied nonchalantly, crouching next to her. "You lost," he said to the unconscious woman. "Your son has become what he should never have been. Look, he cut me," he added, holding his bleeding hand over her face.
Thomas approached again.
"Don't touch her!" he yelled. "Please, don't touch her!" He was losing control.
"If I killed her right now, you'd hate me just as much as you did before. Carol was as precious to you as your mother, wasn't she?"
Richard stood up, wiping his hand on his worn, tattered coat. The night had fallen, and the moon illuminated his face—old, wrinkled, with gray hair and the eyes of a maniac.
"You loved her, didn't you?"
Thomas stayed silent for a moment before shifting his gaze from his motionless mother to the man before him.
"What I feel is none of your business," Thomas finally said. "You're a murderer, and you must be punished. That diary... it's yours."
"That diary doesn't matter to me anymore," Richard replied calmly. "But yes, I started it a long time ago, crossing out the names of those I killed. Everything changed after I met you."
Thomas suddenly remembered all the stories Willie told him about a maniac who supposedly killed people—a sick man who stayed in the abandoned building where Thomas had found that diary.
"So, you were there," Thomas said. "You lived there."
"Before I ended up here, I wandered everywhere. I lived in many places. Sometimes I had to live outside, like a vagrant. That's why I started hating humanity—it's so selfish and indifferent. I always left diaries in the places I stayed, and I didn't care. I confessed to the police about several murders, but they didn't take me seriously. They thought I was insane. I pretended to be crazy. I was even admitted to a psychiatric hospital once, but they let me go because my wife said she'd take care of me. But after she died, everything changed. I was completely alone. I had no children. I wanted to get a job, start a new life..."
"Did your wife know that you were a murderer?" interrupted Thomas. He had calmed down a bit.
"She knew, but she never told anyone about it. Even when I confessed it myself, she would say it was a lie and not true. In reality, she hated me for it. Once, I was almost imprisoned, but thanks to my wife, I stayed free. She always said I was innocent and wanted it to be true. I was younger back then. After her death, I had a little money, so I started looking for a place to live and, at the same time, for new victims. When I was left with nothing, I got lucky. I won a pretty large sum of money at a casino, and that allowed me to move here."
"And since then, you started stalking me…"
"That's true. When I first met you, you immediately became the one I felt I had been searching for my whole life. I was curious to watch your behavior, your emotions…"
"Enough!" Thomas cut him off. "You stalked me and killed people close to me because you wanted me to suffer. But what did Olivia Parker's husband or Molly's mother have to do with me?"
The man was silent for a moment.
"I had nothing to do with their deaths. It was a coincidence. I heard about it in the news. Molly's mother died in an accident, and Olivia's husband, it seems, from a heart attack."
"Really…" Thomas remembered that they weren't mentioned in the diary.
"It's true that I killed innocent people, but since I met you, I haven't killed anyone else. You know that."
"So you killed Carol and Taylor because they had some connection to me?"
"Actually, those two had long been listed in my diary. You saw them there yourself when you found it. The neighborhood where you and John were is small, and I intended to wipe out everyone there. I wanted to kill her back when I attacked the two of you, but you didn't let me do it."
"That's when you stabbed me with a poisoned knife."
"Yes, but that poison wasn't lethal. I didn't want you to die. Seeing how bravely you protected that girl, I decided to wait a little longer until you grew even closer to her."
"And who would you have killed next?" Thomas raised his voice. "Who would have been next if I hadn't caught you here with my mother? Afterward, John? Would you have killed everyone close to me, then me, and felt happy?"
"I knew you'd quarrel with John—I knew it. You can't control your emotions when you're angry, which is why you're alone now. Look around, Thomas. Do you see anyone by your side? No. You're completely alone. You have no one but your mother, who doesn't understand you and who would always try to dissuade you from revenge. Killing Taylor wasn't even that necessary, but I didn't care, and damn it, he didn't give up so easily."
"Shut up."
"You had Carol, but by taking her away from you, I took everyone else as well. Your best friend John has already forgotten about you. You had no friends except him and Carol, so I removed them both from your life, leaving you completely alone."
" I hate you, bastard. Did you enjoy watching me suffer?"
"That was the whole point, Thomas. I did it to make you suffer. But I never intended to kill you, because I genuinely liked you. Guys like you are rare—almost nonexistent. I knew you'd have dark thoughts, that you'd think about revenge. But realizing that you couldn't take revenge, you began thinking more and more about death and your own uselessness. Isn't that true, Thomas?"
"I promised Carol that I would avenge her because she died in vain. You killed her just to make me suffer, and now you're claiming you liked me? No, damn it, you hated me just as much as I hate you now." Thomas clenched his fists. It hurt him deeply.
"Does your hatred run deep enough to drive a knife into my heart?" Richard asked. Thomas still held the bloodied knife in his hand.
"Want to find out?" he asked, breathing heavily.
"Of course, son. You can kill me right here and now."
"I'm not your son!" Thomas shouted. "And I never was. I regret meeting you. I regret opening up to you. I regret everything. I trusted you, but then you became too curious about everything. I wanted to avoid you, but you kept stalking me, not letting me live in peace. So why didn't you kill me right away? Why did you want to see me suffer and torment myself? Why did you hide from me that you were a murderer?"
"After Molly's death, I told you I was a murderer, but then I denied it because I didn't kill her mother. Honestly, I didn't care, Thomas. I knew you'd find out sooner or later—it was only a matter of time. If I hadn't wanted you to know, you still wouldn't."
"You might not have cared, but I did. At first, I saw you as a normal, intelligent person, but it was all just a game. Your emotions were fake. You're a terrible person with no feelings for anyone. You're a murderer, a maniac. I hate you, but even more, I hate myself." Thomas exhaled heavily. "I hate myself for being so blind, for sometimes asking you for advice or anything else. To you, I was just a victim, a target of your revenge. Because of me, you killed her. Carol died because of me—because you wanted to see me suffer. You didn't care about her."
"I already told you, I wanted to kill her a long time ago. The same goes for Taylor."
"But you met me and then finally decided to kill her. First, you waited until we became closer, waited until Carol became dear to me. You chose the moment when she and I had quarreled. You killed her and left her among heaps of garbage, leaving no place on her unscathed," Thomas shouted, his voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. The man nodded. "I still don't understand how someone can be like this. It's not even fair to call you human, more like an animal."
The man lowered his head, and Thomas caught sight of his bald spot. His hair was so sparse it seemed as if each strand could be counted.
"So what did you want? To make me suffer? To torment me, make me blame myself for her death? Well, congratulations, because you've succeeded. You got what you wanted. And now you can kill me. You could have done it anytime, I was always right in front of you," Thomas said, nervously wiping his face with his hand. He was struggling but could no longer hold himself back. He had to pour out all his emotions right here, right now, no matter what would happen next. He glanced at his mother. She lay motionless.
"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it. Don't doubt that," the man finally replied.
"Don't touch her," Thomas pleaded desperately. "Kill me, but leave her alone."
Suddenly, his mother stirred. In the moonlight, Thomas noticed her pale face. He rushed to her and knelt beside her, letting the knife fall from his hand. Richard stepped back.
"Mom, how are you? What did he do to you?" She looked lifeless, her entire body trembling. Thomas tried to embrace her, but she recoiled and croaked.
"Forgive me, son, forgive me for everything. That man… you should have been wary of him…"
Thomas stared at his mother as she uttered those words and began to struggle for breath.
"Mom!" Thomas suddenly cried out. "Please, Mom, don't leave me. I can't do this without you. I have no one else but you."
It seemed as though she couldn't get enough air; she struggled to breathe. Finally, she suffocated and died in Thomas's arms. He pulled her close, tears streaming down his face.
"You promised she would live!" he shouted.
"I never said that…" the man replied calmly.
Thomas looked at his mother, touching her limp hand. He couldn't bring himself to accept the fact that she was gone—just like Carol. What was even worse that he was now completely alone. He had no one left. And it was all because of the man standing before him. What was stopping him from killing that man right now? But then, if this man had taken care of Taylor so easily, Thomas knew he could overpower him just as quickly.
It was dark outside, but the moonlight illuminated his mother's face. It was pale and lifeless, devoid of any signs of vitality. She wasn't trembling anymore. She wasn't speaking. She was gone.
Thomas remembered when he was about five years old and fell off a horse. His grandparents were still alive back then. He had scraped both knees, and when his mom found out, she scolded his grandfather for letting him ride. Then, she held him close—just like he was now holding her lifeless body. She had kissed him, treated his wounds, and everything had felt okay again. How he wished he could go back to that time, a time when they lived together in love and harmony, without fear of someone attacking or killing their loved ones.
He could have stayed like that for a long time, but Thomas knew it was pointless. His mother wouldn't come back to life. She was gone, just like Carol and Taylor. But this was his mom—the one who loved him above all else. Thomas couldn't stop his tears.
"I gave her a poison," Richard suddenly said, breaking the silence. "It didn't kill her immediately, but eventually, it was meant to make her suffocate." His voice was calm, as though he were talking about the weather.
Thomas stood up, wiping away his tears.
"I'll kill you," he said, his voice steady and cold. "I swear, I'll finish you."
"Don't hesitate, Thomas. You should have done this a long time ago, but your mother would have died anyway.I gave her poison. At first, it didn't work, but it was strong enough that she was bound to die eventually…"
"Shut up!" Thomas suddenly shouted, grabbing the knife.
"No one should get in our way."
"Now I'm completely alone. Is this what you wanted? Of course, it is. And now you're going to kill me too, right?"
"I'm not going to kill you," the man said unexpectedly. "No."
Thomas couldn't understand what emotions the man was hiding. His anger and profound pain clouded his perception. He just wanted to end it, here and now.
"So you killed everyone else but decided to leave me alive to watch me destroy myself day after day."
"I liked you, Thomas. If it were anyone else in your place, I would have dealt with them long ago, just like I did with Carol."
"Don't say her name!" Thomas yelled. "Don't you dare. That night, you hunted her down and killed her, and she couldn't do anything to defend herself—just like my mom. You probably poisoned her food, didn't you?"
"No," the man smiled coldly. "I forced her to drink the poison. I told her that if she didn't, I would kill you. And she believed me. She truly loved you, Thomas. What wouldn't a mother do for her child?"
Thomas looked at his mother's body, barely holding back tears.
"But even if she hadn't done it, I would have made her," the man added. "She had no choice."
"You live only for revenge. You live only to kill people who have done nothing wrong."
"I have killed hundreds of people in my life, including children, but you are the first one I have decided to spare. Not because my conscience bothers me, but because I like you."
"Shut up!" Thomas shouted. "If you liked me, you wouldn't have made me suffer like this. I suffered, suffered every single day!" Thomas bit his lip and then exhaled. "I was in so much pain. Death is worse than this kind of life. It hurt so much after Carol's death. I was completely broken. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. Everywhere I went, I kept thinking of her, blaming myself. That's why I distanced myself from everyone. I didn't want to hurt my loved ones; I didn't want them to suffer. John—he asked me to tell him everything as it was, but I didn't want to. I couldn't. Not because I considered him an enemy, but because I wanted to protect him, to keep him away from me. I knew that if the killer got to Carol, they could kill anyone—even me. My mom was the last person I spoke to every day, the only one who was truly ready to give everything for me. But you killed her, just like you did Carol. Why? To leave me completely alone? Although I already feel like there's nothing alive left inside me, as if I've already died."
"Emotional pain is worse than physical pain, Thomas. Emotional pain leads to a deterioration of health and literally eats you from the inside. You can't live a peaceful life. You can't," he said, echoing Thomas's words. "I saw how you suffered."
"Did you enjoy watching it? Did you want to become my friend? Is that it, Mr. Richard?" Thomas said with disgust.
"I must admit, you were a good friend to me. For the first time in so many years, I didn't feel lonely, Thomas. That's why I wanted you to end up completely alone and turn to me for help. I wanted you to suffer. But if you had talked to me, I would have tried to help you."
"What the hell are you rambling about? Turn to a killer for help? Do I look like some kind of fool? Especially since I started suspecting you later because you were too interested in everything. I even warned my mom to stay away from you..."
"I know," the man replied. "You became colder toward me, didn't want to talk to me."
"I hate you, asshole!" Thomas shouted.
"You were the only person who brought me comfort. It's really strange—I still can't believe it. But you are special."
"I'm not special! I'm just like everyone else! I'm no different from them!" Thomas yelled. "I'm nobody in this world! I couldn't protect anyone from you! Who am I after that?!" he shouted again.
"You tried to protect them, Thomas. You did everything for your loved ones. You didn't want them to suffer because of you. If you could, you'd bring Carol, your mom, and Taylor back to life. But unfortunately, that's impossible now…"
"Why are you telling me this?" Thomas's hand trembled nervously, holding the knife.
"You need to kill me. Maybe you'll feel relief—or maybe you won't—because you'll still be left all alone. But then, at least, you'll be able to fulfill your promise to Carol. And besides, I won't resist. I want you to do it."
"You're a psychopath. First, you stalked me, killed everyone close to me because you wanted me to feel pain, and now you're asking me to just kill you and end it all? Although this is already the end," Thomas said with a crooked smile.
"I knew you would hate me. But, in truth, I'm just as much a victim," Richard replied, tilting his head to the side. His face was wrinkled and sallow. "Killing people made me lose my sanity, though I skillfully pretended to be a good companion at first, didn't I, Thomas? I'm a victim of my own life. Look at me—look at what I've become. I didn't want this. Deep down, I didn't want this. But everything that fueled my hatred pushed me toward it. People are horrible creatures… Thomas, remember, you're not like the others. You can feel compassion. You can love. When I killed Carol, I could see that for myself. I wanted to see what kind of person you were, though I already knew. I wanted you to fight and not give up, even after everything. Even after you kill me, I want you to keep living, no matter what."
"For what? Why should I live? Do I have a purpose? Is there any meaning in life? No," Thomas said with a crooked smile.
"You're only 17. You're too young to decide whether there's meaning in life or not. For me, the meaning of life was killing. It truly brought me pleasure."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear this! You've destroyed me, ground me into dust! You've defeated me! Here I am, standing before you—kill me, just like you did with Carol and my mom. Since you started this, finish it! Or was your goal just to destroy me mentally? I bet you wanted me to go insane, to be thrown into a mental institution, just like you once were. You wanted me to suffer because you once suffered—when your wife died, when you endured someone else's torment, when you hated yourself."
"That's enough," Richard suddenly replied.
"And what you did to Carol, to my mom, and to the other innocent victims—that's not too much? Completely innocent people—they died because of your thirst for revenge! You couldn't stop. You intended to kill, and you left me alive because you wanted me to suffer. By your own words, I'm 'special.' You were curious to see what would happen to me next."
"I wanted to leave you alive so you could end me. You are the one who must kill me. If I wanted to kill you, I would've done it long ago. But no, I spared your life because you must take revenge on me," the man said, stepping closer to Thomas.
"Don't come any closer!" Thomas shouted, extending his hand without the knife to stop Richard.
"Even if I kill you, it won't lessen my pain. I need time to recover from this. The truth is, I can't live as I did before—with a carefree life. No, I won't live like that..."
"You are the one who can kill me. Your hatred must consume you entirely. You must be driven by it..."
"I hate you!" Thomas shouted and suddenly remembered his mother's words: "Revenge brings nothing good. It only breeds more revenge." In Richard's case, this was entirely true because his revenge had crossed all boundaries. He had gone mad, becoming a maniac. Thomas didn't want to be like that. Thomas couldn't be like him. He couldn't and wouldn't. Thomas had to break this chain. Richard was taking revenge on all people, and Thomas, in turn, was going to take revenge on him for what he had done to his family. But no. Then how would he be any different from him? He wouldn't.
"I won't kill you," Thomas suddenly said, calming down and gripping the knife tightly in his left hand.
"If you kill me, you'll get your revenge, Thomas. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Revenge? You think that's the meaning of life? That all I need is revenge? That's what it was, honestly, until today. But now everything has changed. I've changed my mind." Thomas deliberately let the knife fall from his hands, and it landed with a dull thud on the asphalt.
"I understand what you're thinking right now. You don't want to be a murderer. But wouldn't killing someone like me be the right thing to do? I've taken the lives of hundreds of innocent people. You know that. Don't I deserve it?" The man hunched his shoulders.
Thomas smirked crookedly.
"You'll burn in hell. You'll burn." Thomas was shouting again, but it seemed like it wasn't even his voice. "You'll answer for everything in the next life. But for now, you can finish me off, which, as I understand, you won't do. But I won't let you leave. You'll answer for everything in front of the police. Even if they're smart enough to twist everything against me, I don't care."
"Oh no... no, no, no," the man repeated. "It all ends here and now."
"I don't consider myself special. I'm just like everyone else. My life is worth nothing. In the search for the killer, I completely lost my mind. I wasn't myself. I didn't know who he was, so I blamed myself for being weak, for not being able to punish the guilty. And it was you. If I had exposed you earlier, you wouldn't have been able to kill the people close to me. I wouldn't have let you. But now I have no one."
The man nodded.
"My best friend hates me, and that's good. I've saved him from you."
"I knew you'd be alone after Carol's death. I already told you, revenge breeds revenge. But in your case, Thomas, it would be different. If you kill me, it'll be the end. Because there will be no one left to seek revenge on you for me. Do you understand? I have no one. I killed your loved ones out of hatred, and you will take revenge on me for them, thereby putting an end to it all."
For a moment, Thomas stayed silent, then shook his head.
"No. I've made my decision."
"Well, if that's the case..." The man began to approach Thomas, but this time, Thomas didn't back away. Richard quickly grabbed the knife, holding it in his hand, and said:
"Forgive me, Thomas. I didn't want it to end this way. Truly, I didn't."