By Zephyria 
The house, located in a quiet suburb, was wrapped in a superficial aura of peace. The well-maintained garden, clearly tended to with care for a long time, and the garage door adorned with pumpkin decorations in preparation for the upcoming Halloween suggested that the owner of this house was quite domestic and meticulous.
Yes, it was an ordinary house where a common middle-class family, the kind you could see anywhere, would live.
Nathaniel Miller, having parked his car in front of the house, stepped out slowly, his eyes never leaving the building.
♪♪♬♩♪♩…
The ringtone of a mobile phone echoed through the quiet residential area. When he answered, a sleepy voice drifted from the other end.
“…Where are you?”
At Chrissy’s question, Nathaniel spoke with a faint smile.
“I stepped out for a moment to take care of something. Go back to sleep.”
Chrissy seemed to let out a short sigh and muttered.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve wandering around after leaving me in this state. …Fine.”
“Chrissy.”
Just as the call was about to end, Nathaniel called out to him. Nathaniel continued speaking, his gaze still fixed on the house.
“…I have something to tell you when I get back.”
Chrissy didn’t answer for a moment. After a puzzled pause, he spoke in a voice laced with amusement.
“You’d better hurry back; I’m impatient.”
At those words, Nathaniel also smiled.
“My, I’ll have to rush then.”
After Chrissy hung up, Nathaniel checked the address written on the ground and stared forward again. That man was inside.
‘Child of the Moon.’
And….
Even after standing before the front door, it took a few more seconds before he pressed the bell. A limp ding sounded from inside. As he released his finger from the long press, the ringing that had persisted for a while finally vanished. It was then that a voice was heard.
‘Who is it?’
At the blunt voice of a man, Nathaniel finally opened his mouth.
“Hope.”
A moment later, a clicking sound was heard. As he turned the doorknob, the door opened slightly. A chilly breeze brushed against his back. Nathaniel stepped inside slowly.
In the carpeted living room, a large sofa was visible. On the mantelpiece, a row of frames of various sizes held the faces of the people living in this house. His gaze lingered on the face of a child after seeing a smiling middle-aged couple and a boy. The young boy looked somewhat depressed. Taking his eyes off the man’s hand resting on the boy’s shoulder, he moved forward again. Thump, thump—the slow, steady sound of footsteps echoed through the quiet interior.
Finding the owner of the house was not difficult. Sitting alone in a space that looked like a study, the man was staring at a single photograph in a frame. Despite surely hearing the approaching footsteps, the man did not move. Nathaniel stared silently at him, who remained motionless without even glancing at the visitor standing in the doorway.
Child of the Moon.
The man who had kidnapped countless children and committed horrific acts had the face of a perfectly ordinary middle-aged father. A common face you could see anywhere. A man with no distinguishing features, someone you would never remember even if you passed him on the street.
…And.
Nathaniel spoke.
“Dennis Jin.”
He called the man’s name in a voice lower than usual. Only then did the man look up and stare at Nathaniel. With a cold expression, Nathaniel continued.
“I assume you know who I am.”
Of course he did. Moreover, it seemed he already knew why Nathaniel had come here. He showed no sign of surprise or panic.
“Ah….”
Only then did Dennis Jin take his eyes off the frame and look at him. With an inscrutable smile on his lips, the man spoke.
“You played quite flamboyantly at the auction last time. I wondered why….”
Then, he turned the frame so the photo faced Nathaniel.
“Was it because of my son?”
Nathaniel’s gaze shifted from Dennis’s face to the frame. Inside was the boy from the photo on the mantelpiece. A boy looking forward with anxious eyes and a depressed expression.
A young Chrissy Jin.
Nathaniel said nothing. He simply stared at the man with an expressionless face, and it was only after a few seconds of silence that he spoke.
“Was that your purpose for taking him in from the start?”
After Chrissy’s father murdered his mother, Chrissy spent some time in foster care. Then, he was adopted by a couple without children—the Jins.
They were so ordinary that they seemed even more perfect. A husband who ran a small company and a housewife, owning a home in the suburbs. A middle-class couple who desperately wanted a child but couldn’t have one, and simply needed to fill the missing piece of their bland daily lives.
Because of that, no one suspected. Why they—or more accurately, why Dennis Jin—had adopted a six-year-old child instead of a newborn.
At Nathaniel’s question, Dennis Jin gave a short laugh and put the frame down.
“You should know by now. Just how seductive that child is.”
He leaned back into the chair and continued in a leisurely tone.
“He tempted me from the moment I first saw him. He looked at me with eyes that begged me to hold him. So, I simply gave him what he wanted. What can I do? I am but a mere human, weak to temptation.”
Shrugging his shoulders, the man narrowed his eyes and let out a vile laugh.
“He was so eager, as you probably know….”
His words could not reach the end. Nathaniel pulled something from his coat pocket, and a loud noise erupted.
Bang, bang, bang—the consecutive gunshots shook heaven and earth like thunder. The man’s head flew off, brain matter splattered, and blood sprayed from his chest. His entire body vibrated as chunks of flesh flew, but the firing didn’t stop. Only after the hollow click, click of an empty chamber did Nathaniel realize he had used all the loaded bullets.
The thing that had been Dennis Jin slumped in the chair, no longer moving. Shredded by the bullets that had pierced his entire body, it was difficult to recognize his previous form.
Only then did Nathaniel step forward toward the man who had become a corpse. Stopping with the desk between them, he picked up the frame. Seeing red droplets of blood smudging the young face of Chrissy, he let out a short click of his tongue. After wiping the blood off the glass with his finger, he took out his phone while keeping his gaze fixed on Chrissy’s face. As soon as the signal rang, the other party answered.
“911, what is your emergency?”
At the immediate voice, Nathaniel spoke as he removed the backing from the frame.
“NY 11747, please send the police.”
Leisurely taking out the photo and placing it in the inner pocket of his suit, he continued.
“I have killed someone.”
“…?”
Chrissy woke up, thinking he had heard a sound. With his eyes closed, he frowned and then slowly lifted his eyelids. Had he heard things in his sleep? After letting out a short breath, he slowly sat up.
The surroundings were perfectly silent. Once he realized he was lying in Nathaniel’s bed, he suddenly wondered. Where had that man gone?
Recalling the phone call he had when he woke up briefly, the ringtone of his phone suddenly sounded. He naturally thought of Nathaniel, but upon checking the caller ID, it was a completely different person.
“Chief Prosecutor? How….”
“Where are you right now?”
At the Chief Prosecutor’s urgent voice, which burst out without preamble, Chrissy blinked in confusion.
“Um, I—what is going on?”
When he returned the question instead of answering, the Chief Prosecutor shouted in an even higher pitch.
“Come here right now! Come here this instant! Everything is in chaos!”
“What? Suddenly, what….”
He had no idea what the situation was. To Chrissy, who was still lost, the Chief Prosecutor dropped a bombshell.
“Nathaniel Miller has killed someone!”