Theo caressed the blade of his knife, gently running a finger along its edge. He promised himself that it would find the flesh of his parents’ murderer. Five days had passed. Theo had abandoned his former home; left carrying only a rucksack filled with food and other essentials, and his knife.
He sat in the corner of a tavern; he could not remember the name. A scattering of shot glasses sat in front of him, each filled with a different liquid. He downed one and sat back, casting his mind about.Who would want to kill his parents? And why spare him? He had been in the house at the same time. He took another shot.
Glancing up, he saw a reporter on the television. Words crossed the bottom of the screen.Woman found, brutally murdered in her cottage. So, the murderer has struck again have they? All the more reason to find, and kill them. Theo downed the remaining five shots, one after the other, left his table and went to his rented room.