The two of us didn't spend much time thumbing through pages of crimes before we found our prey. Through all the crazy and gruesome antics, we quickly found our guy: Jacob Nelson. Somebody different, a little somebody unlike all the other somebodies. Jacob is accused and in our mind already convicted of mass-murder.
Although officials can't rightfully put a number on the final body count, they have found several jaggedly dismembered corpses spread about. A small boy whose family was at a local beach on vacation was digging a mote for his castle, when he stifled across the head of Nelson's father. The family was left dumbfounded and distraught by the situation before calling the police. Around the beach, more and more body parts could be discovered tanning beneath the sun.
The detectives wandered, trying their best not to trip on any of the severed appendages, before they got another surprise phone-call. This call would be from Jacob Nelson's mother, whom had discovered a pair of hands and feet resting upon her doorstep. Left clutching her arm because of a heart-attack after they identify the body-parts as belonging to her husband. The woman lays lifeless in a hospital, the shock leaving her in a coma. She's not expected to make it. This is nothing to joke about, there is evil afoot, and someone must taste defeat.
Jacob was brought in for questioning only to be released within hours. The killer did everything he could to get away with murder. It didn't matter how much they threw at him, nothing would stick. This told me the kill was either premeditated or this wasn't our killer's first rodeo. Mind you, Belladonna and I can't say Jacob is guilty without at least some proof, but we know where to find it.
Our killer hasn't held much discreetness when it comes to his whereabouts, and if he actually committed the crime, he added insult to injury by continuing to reside at his parent's house. It probably would have been less heinous had it not been for the parties he throws at the estate. The house looks deteriorated so bad it might as well have been fifty years after their death without maintenance. After each 'celebration', Jacob is usually left an unconscious mess for the rest of the day. An opportunity we are ready to take.
“How do I look,” Belladonna utters as she steps out of the bathroom of her apartment, showing some apprehension.
We made plans on how we'd obtain the evidence needed to allow us to drive the bullet through Nelson's skull. The “plan” isn't too elaborate, but we figure there isn't any reason for a convoluted plan. Although, considering what Jacob might be capable of, we know it is wise for us to stay on our toes. Belladonna is dressed in jeans with intentional rips at the knees and a white shirt complemented by a purple velvet jacket.
“Too good to be partying with the likes of Jacob Nelson. We better get going. After all, we don't want the parasite to sober up before we have a chance to find what we're looking for.”
We nod in agreement and Belladonna follows me out of her apartment to the parking lot where we enter her car: a cherry-red sedan. Minutes filled in silence, there is nothing left for us to discuss. Words cannot do this justice. I can tell we are both in a different state of mind, we aren't a couple intermingling anymore, we are about to indulge, the addicts are about to get a fix. I glance out the car window, admiring the realms left to explore. Watch as we zoom past homes and ponder how many lives I have taken in this area, and how many lives were still waiting to be brought to an end by my hands. It is intimidating to see how out matched I am by the city, like a kid in a candy store with only pockets to be filled. The uneasiness ceases when I start to realize it didn't have to be just me anymore, if I didn't want for it to be.
This didn't have to be me stepping up against the world, but maybe I wanted it to be.
The vehicle comes to a halt. She parks the car less than a quarter of a mile away from Jacob's house, hoping to come across as inconspicuous. The house is isolated from all the others, and for the most part, is out of the spotlight. Large hedges separate it from surrounding neighbors. Belladonna and I leave the car with caution. And for some reason, we close the doors softly. There's refuge in the fact she is just as nervous about the ordeal as I am. It was easy for me to forget I am not the only one taking a risk and stepping out of my comfort zone. It is an understatement for me to say I am not comfortable with the sun being out as all of this transpires. I have made a habit out of reigning in the dark, not the light. Light isn't my friend, and coincidentally, neither is a stake to the heart. (Orion the Vampire?)
We make our way toward the house, somewhat directionless with our footsteps. Like we are stalling. The journey feels without conclusion, but the time finally comes where we reach our destination. The house provides us with something reminiscent of an abandoned feeling. This is especially odd considering the days where it is crowded with screaming adolescents. It has clearly at one point been well-kept, but has since fell through the cracks of mediocrity.
The house is of good size, has a maroon-colored gable roof and below rests the exterior walls covered with a white paneling, dotted in what is hopefully a green variation of dirt, or maybe, moss. We continue to walk forward before I hear the sound of subtle laughter from Belladonna.
I glance in her direction.
“The name of the street is fitting, Elm Street, because if he turns out to be our guy, he's in for a hell of a nightmare,” Belladonna utters while she stares up at the street sign.
“If he's our guy then he's my soul to take,” I retort.
“Our soul to take,” Belladonna corrects.
“Our soul to take,” I echo to myself softly, not quite believing the words.
We make our way to the house, trying to come across as casual as possible. The fact Jacob could potentially be a mass-murderer hasn't been lost on us. The eagerness to pull the plug on his life is irresistible. We finish making our way up to the porch and stand staring at a large white panel door. The door has small windows at the top with the other-side of the door hidden with decoratively-colored curtains. Belladonna knocks on the door.
“Here goes nothing,” I can hear Belladonna whisper under her breath.
No answer. Belladonna drives her fists to the door once again, this time louder than before.
There is nothing.
There is nothing at all.
“Do you think he's sleeping?” Belladonna asks.
“Sleeping, using the bathroom, listening to music, he could be doing any of those things.”
“What happens now?”
“I'm afraid that is something I may never know the answer to.”
“What?” Belladonna asks, seeming not to understand.
“Nothing,” I clarify before continuing, “What do you think we should do?”
“Well, this might be a blessing in disguise to be honest. We didn't have much in the way of a plan set out, really. Just to knock on the door, say we forgot something when we were at his last party, then hope he doesn't think coherently as we dig through his stuff.”
She is right.
All of this is rushed and stupid. I have allowed the last couple of days to cloud my better judgment. I have never in my head, but this is asking for it. Belladonna snaps her finger in-front of me and withdraws me from my dreamy state.
“It worries me when you go into that other world of yours. I almost feel like you're not going to snap out of it, and quite frankly, I will not carry you back to the car,” she jests.
“This was stupid, we need to leave.”
I can't tell how much of this is me being cautious and how much of this is me trying to swindle my way out of sharing my prey.
“What!? I didn't mean we should leave, just that we should reevaluate the situation. We've been standing out here for at least a couple minutes, if Jacob had been able to hear us, or been home then surely we'd be given a reaction.”
“Unless he heard us, but was too lazy to come to the door.” I counter. “We didn't bother to think any of this through, we left ourselves too vulnerable.”
I see past her glare and can see she knows I am right.
“I guess we should try again tonight,” Belladonna finally says with disappointment clearly radiating from her voice.
We make our way down the porch before something became blatant; smoke. At first, an obscure amount, but we could visibly see it spread fast. Some of it coming out the chimney of the house and heading into the sky.
The sound of a door slamming, we see a black blur bolting away from behind the house. Neither of us get too good of a look at the figure because smoke engulfs it from view. Our eyes travel back to the house and see that it is engulfed by flames.
I run back up the porch and kick the front-door, sending it off of its hinges and to the floor inside. The crashing sound of the door rings loudly, but my attention directs itself to the fire. The roaring sound of the raging flames is heavy. After attempting to catch-up with the assumed arsonist, Belladonna turns back and joins me. Jacob saw us and was trying to discard of vital evidence, this was the fastest way.
The flames stand tall, they cheerfully ignite everything they come in contact with. Belladonna scuffles about, searching for any possible way of extinguishing the flames. There is nothing to help us in view.
I continue to stand calm, I am staring at my adversary. We begin to back away from the flames as they rage closer and closer to us.
The flames look unorthodox, not the typical orange, but a crisp array of colors. The aroma coming from the fire is odd as well.
At once, I run forward and leap through the remorseless blaze. I drop to the floor as whatever shards of the conflagration departs me. The merest of moments more resembling of an eternity than ever before.
I muster the strength to return to my feet.
Is this Jacob erasing something he didn't want discovered or is this the first message in his new agenda? Something peculiar is in the air, aside from the smoke, something provocative and almost exhilarating. I feel almost intoxicated. Dizzily stumbling, I continue to wander the house ignoring whatever Belladonna is yelling about. I feel the smoke attempt swallowing me alive, and feel it begin to become more difficult to think straight.
I could hear the sound of sirens playing loudly outside.
There must be a fire nearby, I guess.
The house is blackened on the walls where it has been burnt. I hear the harsh and relentless sound of objects falling down off the ceiling. The house is falling apart, and it may be because of the state that I am in, but I think that the fire may have something to do with it. I drop to the hardwood floor, watching the room spin around me and try to refrain from vomiting.
I look forward and can see Jacob Nelson's body laying on the floor before catching itself aflame.
“We have to get the hell out of here! The roof is going to collapse and there are people coming,” Belladonna hollers with fear, her face blackened by the soot.
I stare up at her barely understanding she is talking to me. I try to climb back to my feet but it is to no avail. Belladonna assists me and leans me against her shoulder as we slowly make our way from the house. We walk out of the house from the front-door, I can hear the sirens begin to grow nearer and nearer, and I can feel Belladonna shaking. The fire trucks drive past us without gracing us with even the slightest of acknowledgment.
They paid no attention to our blackened faces, but we still did our best to shield ourselves from view. The fear of being discovered strengthens me and I regain the ability to walk on my own. The situation seems to add some pep to Belladonna's step as well. Before long, walking down the sidewalk, every car that drives by starts to feel like it is glaring at us suspiciously.
Once we make it back to Belladonna's sedan, both of us are able to express ourselves through loud sighs as we attempt to catch our breath.
We survived, but barely.