After observing the area and only seeing the spot-less broken shards of glass, fiery-shaded leaves, and unkempt
dumpsters, nothing of relevance, I entered the mahogany
brick building. I strolled around the first floor and finding
nothing I walked up the raggedy gray stairway, also finding nothing.
and a filthy window, but I saw not the person responsible
for the laugh.
"Where are you?!" I yelled, backing up to perceive
the entire room.
"Behind you," a hoarse voice replied, followed by
yet another laugh.
I made my way down the hall upon reaching the
third floor and pulled out the keys to the apartment from
my trench-coat pocket. The door screeched open as I saw
the mild bloodstains in the middle of the living-room, as
well as a few broken remains of glass by the shattered
window. I inspected the room to and fro a couple of times,
making sure to pay utmost attention to even the smallest of
particles. Just as I was going to call my search in vain, I
crouched down and noticed a leaf from a salix nigra, a
black willow, on the carpet beside the crimson stains. My
eyes widened in surprise at this discovery. The only place
I knew of where there were black willows was back at the
location of my grandparent's old farm-house. I lifted myself up and ran out the door, too distressed to remember
closing and locking the door.
I swiftly turned around to see a slightly cracked
mirror. In the mirror I did not see my reflection per say,
but that of another, egregious version of myself.
"What the hell is going on..." I asked myself,
blinking for what seemed to be just a millisecond.
"Oops," said the entity in the mirror. "Seems like
you're going to need another partner again!"
I turned around to see Groves drenched in blood
with her throat slit.
"What just happened?! HOW!? WHO?!" I
screamed.
"You did it, Elias," replied the monster in the mirror with a malicious grin.
I dashed down the stairway, brutally pushed the
building's entrance door open, and sped down the streets,
colliding into the shoulders of other pedestrians along the
way. I ran with as much speed as my legs could output,
until I reached a more rural and deserted part of town
where the farm-house was located. I approached the front
door of the house and paying close attention to everything
around me, I realized the lack of dust on the door-knob
and knew someone had been here, very recently. I stepped
inside, the door crying as I carefully shut it behind me.
The place was dark, melancholy, spider-webbed, and
dusty, like something from a horror scene. I walked into
the living-room, immediately becoming aware of the dented sofa seat and the cigar on the ash-tray that lay on the
stained coffee-table. Someone had definitely been here at
least in the past five hours. I kept searching t