This apartment was in his hometown, where his family came from. He spent his early years here in a small town before moving to the city. Outside the window there was still the familiar noise of the nearby market, of that small square where the clock on the tower often rang.
"What am I doing here? How did I end up here?"
But there were several differences, there was a metal grill on the windows, and no matter how hard Adam pulled on the door, it wouldn't open.
"What the hell"
"Did he catch me? is it a trap? But how can this be?"
Adam was scared. He began to nervously walk around the room and throw things that came his way. Shards of glass crunched on the wooden floor, books and various very old records and documents were scattered everywhere, with his father's beautiful calligraphy on it.
With all his strength, he hit the table, from which one drawer, in which his children's drawings were stored, fell out. They flew across the room, and Adam sat on the floor and cried, looking at one of these pictures that fell at his feet.
"Dad"
This picture was of him and his dad. He remembered how he spent hours here and drew. When his father was working, studying many documents and writing reports.He was always a little indifferent. But it was better with him. than with mother, who constantly beat him and took lovers. She couldn't look Adam in the eyes because he looked like his father, whom she hated.
-God! why jurisprudence! don't be like your father Basil!
-But it`s my decision I want to be a lawyer myself, what's wrong with being like a dad, he's a great person!
-Don't say what you don't know! You may be sorry son!
For some reason he remembered this old conversation with his mother, for some reason all the moments of his childhood flashed in his head and his hand reached for a small and dark leather notebook wrapped with a thick leather cord. he doubted a little. On the smooth leather cover was the name "Adam" embossed on.
"It probably belongs to dad"
The pages were worn and dirty, newspaper clippings and photographs were visible between the pages. Adam cautiously pulled one out, but when he saw what was on it, he threw it away in horror like a notebook, got up and moved away to the window in fear.
The mutilated body of a young woman with an endless number of stab wounds. This is what Adam saw in the photo. “But wait, my father worked in the police, as an investigator, , it’s just investigation material and nothing more.”
But the fear intensified when a black matte paper with a beautiful handwriting written in white ink began to flow from between the pages. Adam turned pale when he touched it and, not seeing the content of the text, saw only one such familiar word "Ophiuchus"...
Just the thought that it could be his father, scorched and drove his brain crazy.
"I have to run away!"
But the whole apartment was a solid trap. Windows that cannot be broken. Walls that were difficult to damage, doors that were too heavy. That complete oppressive silence.
The air was getting scarce and the space narrowed by tying a noose around the neck.
Adam locked himself in the bath holding a silver knife that was meant to open letters. Don't known how many days passed like this, in this crazy hungry silence.
The heart in the weak body was beating rapidly as the sound of the lock was barely audible. Fear made Adam weak-willed, he hid in the corner and waited for no sound. he was trembling and could hardly stand up for himself..Adam fell to the cold floor clutching his heart, hearing a familiar voice in the distance.
"is that you Lucien?"
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