Chapter 4. Red on Flesh.

Two days left, father. The hour of reckoning is near. Call it fate, karma, or destiny – whatever you like, but your blood will still be on my hands. It's become an obsession, father. Now I resemble you more than ever! You are obsessed with money and power; I am obsessed with revenge – this brings us closer together. Admit that before my visit, your life was dull and monotonous. Boredom reigned in your house. But now, now your home is alive again, breathing once more. Too bad that this breath is nothing more than intermittent gasps of terror, greedy gulps of air in the hope of preserving life...
One way or another, I dispelled your boredom. And now I will solidify the effect. Father, let me tell you about my dreams over the past few years. About the naive desires to ruin you, wipe out your accounts, fraudulently transfer property ownership. How many plans there were… But I realized their futility in time and stopped. After that, I thought about discrediting you among your beloved colleagues, undermining trust in you, destroying your authority. But this plan also proved impossible. All of this required funds, connections, and other dreary attributes of your society. I couldn’t allow myself to become just like you! Even for the sake of revenge. Therefore, you will simply die. I will destroy you. I will shoot through your dirty palms, which love to hold a pack of vile toilet paper with images of dead presidents. Then I will stick the barrel of the gun into your mouth and stare intently into your eyes filled with unimaginable, primal horror. I will get drunk on your fear, like expensive wine. You won't even try to beg me for mercy. Because you know that I won't stop. And when I tire of admiring your humiliation, I will pull the trigger. And I will keep doing it until the wall behind your back takes on a monotonous hue. And at the end of this performance, I will cover your body with several million bills from your safe and set it on fire. I would have done this even with you alive; it would be even more interesting. But I don't like loud screams... That's all. Do you like my dream, father?
Post Scriptum: I will leave this letter with your lawyer, Filippo. Given my wishes, you will soon need a will. But I wasn't sure if he had one, so I decided to officially refuse my share of the inheritance in any case. To my regret, Filippo was so upset by this fact that he seemed to have stopped breathing.
Another victim fell on the blood-red runway –
Omega. His body was doused with expensive wine and "decorated" with pickles, like an exquisite dish. Death occurred as a result of a gunshot wound to the head; the bullet got stuck somewhere in the cerebellum. On the forehead of the victim, the killer carefully drew the number "2" with a knife. No one heard the shot because the killer used a pillow as a silencer.
Zedzi brought a jar of expensive vitamins for breakfast and calmly began to eat, as if there were pills of immortality in the jar.
Xostor looked upset. As he confessed later, he is sad that the mysterious visitor entered his room without introducing himself, rummaged through his personal belongings. When
Xostor suspected something was wrong, this person quickly retreated. In the darkness,
Xostor managed to see a slender silhouette and even called out to her, but the night visitor disappeared into the darkness.
Alive:Kyle
Zedzi
Dgak
Nebo
WisTrit
Amko
Thorium
Xostor