The redness of the blood looked so similar to the real one, causing Elise to almost mistook it for a real blood if she hadn't known she stepped into Ernest's illusions. The walls on the house was painted with blood from the entrance. Ian took the first step in, "Follow me."

Elise tailed one step behind him. Her eyes looked around the house, studying more of the amount of blood that colored the white floor. While it was a lot of blood, Elise could tell it didn't come from many people, perhaps only one person had been killed as the trail of blood stopped when they stood at the middle of the house entrance. 

Crisp sloshing noise echoed eerily around the entire mansion. The sound can be describe as wet and heavy and accompanied by the sound of rasping breaths. A small whisper and laughter could also be heard when Elise tried to put a keen hearing. 

Elise saw on the end of the spiraling staircase, Edgar sat atop a body. His hands and clothes smeared in blood while his two hands holding the knife, plunging it up and down with his entire soul. Elise frowned seeing the cruelty Edgar had shown and even though they had been standing behind him, he hadn't noticed their presence, as if they were an invisible being to the young man.

Elise slowly take one step forward to have a better look on the victim whom Edgar had brutally murdered. The person there was a man she didn't know, one who seemed to just be the perfect age to be Edgar's father and she suspected he was Edgar's father. 

"Why did this happen?" Elise questioned.

"Each people bottled up their feelings, Elise. In this case, Edgar had done nothing but bottling up his anger and hatred for his father. Now that bottled up anger had reached its boiling point, resulting for things to blow up," Ian explained. While watching human's cruelty was it still right to say demons are the cruelest being? Everyone was a victim to their own situation. Some bend to adjust itself to the trouble they face, but some, like Edgar broke.

"How do you know this?" Elise didn't see the sign at all.

Ian hummed, "A guess. I have seen many people who once had a look the same as Edgar had. It's a look of absolute despair. He was prepared to end his life also his father's life. Question is where are that little boy."

Elise also ventured around with her eyes and pulled Ian's sleeve lightly when she saw the small presence hiding under the staircase. The boy tried so much not to make noise, all while he continue to hear the horrible noises that churn his stomach. He cannot see as he was blind but he could hear how his father was killed and stabbed to pieces once the pleading of help stopped coming out from his father's mouth. After more stabbing, Edgar looked at the ceiling of their house and stood up. His face was expressionless and as white as a sheet. 

It was then when he noticed his younger brother on the corner and made his way there with the bloodied knife. Other children would have been scared still, screaming for help, or run away. But he was blind, therefore he couldn't see his brother stepping slowly toward him. 

Elise cannot abandoned people in need of help but even she knew there was things she cannot stop such as now.

"Are you scared?" Edgar asked the boy. Crouching down, he sat with his knees folded to his chest in front of the younger boy, placing the knife just right beside him. 

The boy shook his head but Edgar smiled, thinking that this was how the young boy trying to hide his fear. "It's a shame you don't have the sight to look, even though it was a fantastic sight to behold. They say there are few things that people inherited through blood but even though I'm not related to my mother, it seemed I have shared just the same amount of madness as she did. Do you want to hear a good news?"

The boy nodded his head without answering. As Edgar wasn't blind he could see the reply and smiled yet again. "I have found a cure to heal your sight. It will take a week for your eyes to fully regain its sight. Drink it soon, alright?" Edgar pulled out a flask, handing it to the boy's hand. 

"What about you, brother?" The boy asked. 

"I am a bit tired so I was thinking to take some rest," answered Edgar, taking the knife to his hands again. "What do you feel if I tell you father is dead?"

The boy was silent for a few second. Perhaps because he didn't have eyes to help him look, his expression was difficult to read for an adult. 

"I'm happy," the boy answered that had Edgar's smile to fell.

"I had been waiting brother for you to kill father. I thought sooner or later you would take his life. I noticed you slipping from the bed to father's room. Did you choke his neck while he was sleeping?" 

The speechless Edgar stared at the boy with a shocked look on his face. "Are you not nervous?"

"I don't think I have to?" The boy questioned. 

"Don't you feel anything against me killing father?" Edgar asked again as if to make sure of something.

The boy smiled, "I don't feel anything other than curiousity. How does the blood feels like? The scent? I want to know."

Edgar's lips begin to raise slowly upward. "Maybe we are all insane. Ernest the weak always lose and the strong always win. Be stronger than anyone else and perhaps you can change a fate of someone like me. Someone whom Heaven had abandoned. Take care," and using the tip of his knife, Edgar had pushed the blade to his own neck. Blood splattered around the boy's face who turned out to be Ernest. 

"Brother?" Ernest questioned but no reply was answered. He called again for another couple of times before he pursed his lips, "Oh, he's dead."