Eric smirked and asked, "what sin are you talking about? She is my daughter I have given her life so isn't it fine for me to take it back?" His face showing a genuine belief that whatever he said was true. Mateo couldn't take it anymore of his creepy talk so he took out a small thumb sized bottle and handkerchief from his breast pocket removed its cap by rotating the cap between his thumb and forefinger. The sharp knife still resting on the neck of the murderer. He poured the contents of the bottle into the handkerchief. Just as he was about to do press the handkerchief on Eric's nose, He asked again, "Eric you know you are going to die one way or the other why don't you tell me one thing before you go?" Eric looked at him in his eyes curious as to what he wanted to ask he nodded his head and told him, "hmm what do you wanna know?". Mateo was impressed by his calm stature and asked him in a grave tone, "How many people have you killed?" Eric looked at him again and snorted. "As if I remember! But but if you want to estimate the numbers, it wouldn't be less than 200 I guess.... may be more. I dunno" After saying this Eric became silent again. Mateo didn't waste his time again with questioning a lunatic. He pressed the handkerchief in his hand on his face. Eric fainted after 15 seconds of squirming around but still not daring to make any bold moves due to the presence of a knife on his neck. Smell of flesh decay drifted around and made Mateo nauseous he looked at the box walked in front of it and moved his hands forward trying to open it. He didn't want to look at his beloved like this, but there was a faint hope that she still looked beautiful in her final moments. ('we all know that humans are a little weird creatures. Despite the sinister environment and the condition of the box which was bloody and reeked of smell of decay he still had hope. Or it would be better to call it morbid curiosity. I am not the one to judge.')

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He looked at the man. In his grief and anger he ran towards him and kicked him so hard that the fat body of the doctor moved 2 ft away due to seer force of the kick. After exhausting himself he moved beside the box again and touched it, feeling the cold and wet texture of the wood. With trembling hands he lifted the cover and slowly opened his eyes, which were unconsciously closed before. Bit by bit his eyes opened, and he looked inside the wooden chest. He brought his hands towards his mouth and clasped it, puke welling upwards towards his mouth. He couldn't hold any longer than that and vomited everything then and there. He fell on his butt, his legs too weak to support him. Some things shouldn't be described, and in one of those things came the condition his wife. He looked down on the floor, still in a daze. Have you ever felt sad, so sad that your existence itself is a burden on your shoulders. That's how he felt right now.

After some time Mateo came out of his reverie, held himself together and took out a pocket watch, looked at it and stood up. He went near the unconscious man and checked on his pulses. "Alive and healthy," the sound left his mouth unknowingly. His eyes were dead as he looked around. He found a small oxygen cylinder and kerosene can near the folded mat, which was kept at the corner. He looked towards the box his wife was in and muttered to himself, "Aurora...." He took kerosene can and walked near his dead wife. He dragged his feet towards the can of the kerosene. He came again in front of his wife and poured all the flammable liquid on the wooden chest, drenching it inside out. Then he looked upward, seemingly thinking of something. He made up his mind and went towards the way he came from wearing a gas mask he found on the floor near the man he has knocked unconscious. In one hand he had a lantern and on the other the knife. He came up towards the storeroom and opened the door present on the right corner of the room, leading towards the passage of the house.