Gardiyan

His body was soaked in sweat and blood. Every strike of the pickaxe on the hard ground made sweat drip from his forehead to the ground, his chest heaving with distress. The pleasure that ran through his veins just an hour ago had given way to fear, his troubled mind seeking a solution. "Nobody must know, it wasn't my fault. Yes yes, it was all that big brat's fault." The concrete floor shattered, and the pickaxe felt softer as it reached the soil. "Just a bit more digging to do. If the principal asks, I'll say they ran away, no one will suspect me." In the light of the lantern he lit to illuminate the night, his shadow fell on the wall. As he lifted and dropped the pickaxe, his menacing image seemed to merge with his darkened soul. He smirked; "Good plan though, really good, no one will understand." The soil was now knee-deep, the noise echoing from below lost in the noise of the working furnace. He used the pickaxe as a cane to straighten his back, looking at the two children lying nearby. How still they were. "You little devil, you were struggling just an hour ago, what happened now? See who's stronger.” He spat a lump of spit onto the lifeless body and continued where he left off. Each drop of the pickaxe was accompanied by a grunt. "I’ve gotten the hang of it, eh! Haven’t worked like this in a long time. My job is easy, and I take what I want when I want. This place is like paradise." He laughed; he wouldn't have guessed he'd be this pleased when this job landed in his lap. Just tonight, for the first time in four years, he had a problem. Otherwise, they would be afraid. When they heard footsteps, they would say, "Turn off the lights, the guard is coming!" He laughed loudly without fear of being heard. The hole he had dug was now up to his neck. He set the pickaxe aside and climbed out of the hole. He sat on the edge of the hole and pulled a gold-plated tobacco case from his pocket. Under the faint light, he rolled his cigarette with his yellowed fingers. He pulled out his lighter, and as he struck a light in the darkness, the pleasurable nicotine smoke filled his lungs. All his worries were gone. He had succeeded, indeed, had gotten rid of trouble. He threw his finished cigarette into the hole. He stood up, grabbed the larger of the bodies by the arms, and dragged it closer to the hole. "Gosh, it's heavy! This one used to be so frail before." When it was the smaller body's turn, he easily grabbed it by one arm and dragged it, throwing it face down on top of the other body. It was almost over, very soon he would be rid of them forever. He took the shovel, well-prepared. He had taken it from the gardener's shed without Sait Efendi noticing. Once done, he would return it to its place. No one would see, no one would know. He continued to throw soil onto the bodies piled on top of each other, feeling more relieved with each shovel of dirt. The hole, now level with the ground, looked like a dark patch in the middle of the cellar until he continued throwing dirt on it. He mixed the cement and lime he had brought to make mortar and spread it neatly over the hole. Now it looked no different than before. The fresh concrete was indistinguishable because no one else would come here. He felt so relaxed inside! This secret would stay with him forever. No one would see, no one would know.