by Peter Glenn
No wonder they thought it was a vampire, even with all the blood. Vampire killings were pretty rare these days. I would have thought the blood everywhere would have been a point against, but with the last reported vampire killing being fifteen years ago, it wasn’t surprising the police didn’t know better.
Oh well, nothing for it but to start looking for more clues. I started by examining the giant blood puddle on the ground in front of me. It was mostly dry by now, and there was a large smudge in it where Charmaine had no doubt slipped and gotten coated in the stuff. But otherwise, it was nothing weird. Neither was the tape outline. In fact, looking at the tape pose and the fact that everything in the room looked untouched, it gave the impression that Donald had died a somewhat peaceful death.
At the very least, it didn’t look like he’d struggled.
But the blood painted another picture. There was arterial spray everywhere, giving off the appearance of a massive fight all the way to the last breath.
Unless those sprays weren’t happenstance, of course.
A strange thought came to me. What if all of it was on purpose, not some random accident? What if the blood patterns were more than just arterial spray? What if this was all part of someone’s grand design?
I studied the blood sprays on the nearest wall a little closer. If I stared at it cross-eyed and close up for several seconds, it almost looked like it could be some sort of symbol or word. Not an English word, though, but perhaps something from an ancient dialect. Sumerian, maybe?
I blinked a few times and the blood looked like nothing but a rogue spray from an artery again. Had I been seeing things a moment ago? I shook my head to clear it and decided to take a picture of the blood spatter anyway. That way I could study it later in peace. I had no idea if or when the police would come back tonight. If they did, and they found me here, it wouldn’t do Charmaine and Daequan any favors. Let alone me. So, speed was the name of the game.
Shivering at the thought of a jail cell, I moved on. There was more blood on the opposite wall. This bloody pattern looked a little more like some sort of ancient rune or symbol, although once again, I couldn’t really make it out. I decided to take a picture of it, too, and moved on to the next blood splatter, snapping another photo.
I went about the rest of the room the same way, snapping photos of everything that I thought might even potentially be some sort of writing or have some meaning. It meant there’d be a lot of random crap to sift through later, but that’s what the pros did, right?
At length, I made my way over to the big window with the bookcase. There was a little blood here, too, but not as much. Which made sense, since it was further from the epicenter.
In fact, it was much too far from the epicenter for my liking. Like ten feet too far. If the guy had died rather peacefully like his body position had looked, what was his blood doing twenty feet from where his body fell? I’d heard of arterial spray going pretty far, but twenty feet? That seemed like a little much.
Maybe if there had only been a few drops or something all the way over here I would have thought differently, but it was more than that. Several drops, in fact.
I glanced again at the bookcase. Several of the books had blood on their spines, looking more smeared by hand than sprayed by chance. Were these bloody marks intentional? It seemed odd that the killer would leave behind bloody smears, as those could mean fingerprints, but that’s what it looked like.
The Misadventures of Jane Eyre, one of the titles said. That didn’t seem like something that a person would mark intentionally. I blinked again a few times and started to wonder if I was putting way too much thought into all of this. It was getting late, and I’d dealt with my mother earlier on in the day. That was enough to make anyone go bonkers, right?
I scanned some more book titles that had blood smeared on them. Some of them were a little more suspect. Kings and Laws of Mesopotamia. The Anarchist’s Cookbook. Ancient Rituals and Their Meanings.
The eclectic collection of titles by itself was enough to turn heads. Either this guy was really well read, or I was dealing with a majorly crazy person.
Given the amount of blood all over the walls, I surmised it was the second option.
Damn. It was always the second option.
I took out my phone and snapped pictures of the book titles just in case it would help out later. I had no way to be certain, of course, but it was just weird enough that it was possible.
Then I picked up the last one. The one on ancient rituals. I had always been curious about old magic and how it worked. The scholar in me, if there was one, wanted to know just how accurate the book was to life.
I cracked open the book and let it fall open to a random page. The corners were old and yellowing around the edges. I ran my finger along one and the paper almost disintegrated. It looked authentic enough.
“Summoning a Dobhar-chu,” I read aloud, listing off the title of the page.
I slammed the book shut and jammed it back onto the bookcase right as a shudder ran down my spine at the thought of one of those hideous beasts gnawing on my arm a few months back. Now that was a memory I wasn’t keen on reliving.
Nope, didn’t need any more of that book in my life. It could be the real deal. I no longer cared.
Suppressing another shudder, I put my phone back in my pocket and headed for the door, intent on sharing my findings with Charmaine. Maybe she’d know what to do with all of it. Before I made it five feet, I heard a strange scraping noise coming from the hallway that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge.
There was no denying it. I was no longer alone up here. Someone else was out there.
4
My blood froze, but I fought back the fear. There was a good chance it was Charmaine coming back to help me. I had no reason to believe that there was some sinister force waiting for me on the other end of the door.
Or worse, the police. The thought of spending the night in jail next to Daequan flashed through my mind again. Nope, didn’t need that.
Either way, I had nothing to lose by being careful. I inched my way over toward where the light switch was and flicked it off to return the room to how it had looked when I’d come in. I blinked a few times to help my eyes refocus in the low light. There was a decent amount of light coming in from the giant window in the back of the room, but it was a far cry from full incandescents.
The scraping noise came again. It sounded like someone was fidgeting with the lock or the door handle.
I thought about calling out to see if it was Charmaine, but instantly ditched the idea. If it wasn’t her, my shouting would give away that I was in here. And that would ruin any chance of surprise or escape.
The door creaked, and I watched it inch open very slowly, a mere hair’s breadth at a time. My whole body tensed, and I got into a loose combat pose. Charmaine wouldn’t open the door slowly. In fact, she’d probably just mist on in and ignore the door completely.
No, it was someone else. Had to be. And probably not a cop, either. Why would a cop be so careful opening the door to one of their crime scenes? That didn’t make sense.
Which only left one real option—the killer. The killer had come back to inspect the crime scene or pick up something they’d left behind.
Believe it or not, it happened more than you’d think. Most people were in the heat of passion when they killed someone, hence their not thinking all that clearly. So they often leave behind bits of evidence that could incriminate them. Of course, I hadn’t found anything of the sort at this particular scene, and the intricacies of the blood markings meant it didn’t look like a passion crime, but those were only two of dozens of reasons a killer might return.
I felt around in the dark for the door I’d seen earlier that led off into another room. It would be better to hide and get the drop on the guy than to have to face him head on. Cleaner that way, with less chance of anyone dying accidentally. And I’d need the guy alive to testify and clear Daequan’s name.
>
It took longer than it should have with me half-watching front door’s progress at the same time, but I found the side door and opened it, plunging myself into the room beyond a half-second later. I left that door open just a crack so I could still see into the main room and crouched and waited.
True, I was taking a big chance. The slightly open door might give a head’s up to the killer that he wasn’t alone. But it was a chance I’d have to take.
The front door creaked open a little more and was finally big enough to let a person through. And that’s exactly what the killer did. They crept into the room, moving as slowly as they had when opening the door, until they were all the way inside. They left the door open and crouched down low to the ground, eyes scanning the room as they skulked about.
He—I could tell it was a he—looked a little bit off. Humanoid, but not quite human. Something about his body didn’t add up, like it was too long or something. Even in the dim light of the room, I could tell. He had a buzz cut and was wearing thick, dark clothing that obscured the majority of his remaining features. He looked to be about six foot tall, or thereabouts. Nothing too crazy there.
But those eyes. Those eyes had an intensity I wasn’t used to seeing. They were an intense blue. The bluest eyes I’d seen possibly ever, and they appeared to be almost glowing in the darkness.
I let Blue Eyes skulk about in the room for a moment while I double-checked my equipment. I hadn’t been expecting much, so all I had on me was Grax’thor. Not the best tool for subduing but not killing an opponent. I’d have to hope that it did good enough.
Blue Eyes hunched down next to the giant blood puddle and sniffed the air above it like a lizard. It was kind of surreal to watch. He paused there for a moment, then kept going, making his way around over toward my side of the room.
It was now or never. Which was just as well. Have you ever crouched for an extended period of time? It made your legs burn in the strangest places. I was already starting to feel it.
The killer inched just a little closer. He was looking slightly away, though my door was still in his line of sight.
Unfortunately for me, my door swung inwards. If it had swung the other way, I could have used it as my opener to disorient the killer and get the drop on him, but no dice. I’d have to do it the hard way.
I waited until he was in the perfect spot to lunge at from behind. Just a little longer.
A bead of sweat formed on my forehead as I waited anxiously for the exact right moment. I wanted to bat it away so bad, but was too afraid of alerting my opponent.
Finally, the moment came. I threw the door open as fast as I could and pounced from my place of protection.
Somehow, Blue Eyes caught wind of my attack before it could land, and he dodged almost effortlessly out of the way. I managed to fly right past him and come to a skidding halt next to the giant blood puddle.
Thankfully, I managed to stop just in time to avoid it, otherwise, I likely would have slid in the stuff and fallen onto my face. Some victory that would have been.
Blue Eyes spun around to face me and hissed, holding his fists out in front of him like weapons. He came at me with a mean left hook that flew at me faster than it had any right to.
I dodged backward and managed to avoid most of the blow, but it glanced across my left cheek. Searing pain shot through that part of my face as I reared backward from even the light touch.
My mind raced. What was this guy? It should have been impossible for a nick like that to cause such pain. How was this guy so fast and powerful?
Another punch came for me, but I managed to bring my own arm up to block it this time. Even the block hurt more than it should have, but at least I’d warded off that blow.
I had a slight opening to act, so I went at him with a punch of my own, slamming my fist downward toward his leg. My goal was to immobilize rather than incapacitate. A non-moving opponent is an easy opponent.
My fist smacked hard into soft flesh with a thwack, and I heard Blue Eyes howl as he staggered back a half-step, retracting his injured leg. That move put him slightly off balance, so I tried to lunge for his middle to knock him to the ground.
This met with less success, and I ended up grabbing at air as I stumbled forward, almost falling onto my face once again.
Goodness, but this little bugger was a fast one. And in spite of what my mom thought of me, I was no slouch. Okay, I didn’t hit the gym regularly, but I knew my way around a fistfight.
Blue Eyes raised his fists again, and I braced for another punch, but he kicked out at me instead, jamming his foot into my knee.
A wave of pain washed over my leg as I thought I heard something crack, and I went down, cradling the injured knee with one hand. I felt around for anything that might be out of place, but found nothing.
I thanked my blind luck that the blow hadn’t been more effective and looked up to see Blue Eyes standing over me. He had his fists poised to strike, and there was a glint in his eyes that spoke of pain and death.
He stood like that for a moment while I crouched on the floor, then he did the most unexpected thing. He bolted. He spun around, heading for the slightly opened door out of here.
“Oh no, you don’t!” I howled.
I scrambled to my feet and ran after him as fast as my legs could take me. Pain surged through my knee, but I ignored it. We were in an apartment complex. So long as I could reach him before he got to the elevator, he’d have nowhere to go.
“Come back here, you twerp!” I yelled as I ran through the door and into the hallway.
I was in luck. He was at the elevator, but the door was still closed. I just had to close the distance before that changed.
The elevator dinged, and I saw the door start to slide open. I freaked. I picked up the pace, practically jumping the rest of the distance between us, fingers reaching and grabbing but once again coming up empty as Blue Eyes dodged to the side.
I spun around and tried to backhand him across the face, but he danced away before I could make the blow stick. He’d been quick in the darkness. In the light, he was even faster.
The door spilled open the rest of the way, and I saw Charmaine standing there in the elevator, her eyes grown wide in shock at our struggle.
“Charmaine!” I shouted. “Back away!”
She didn’t need any more urging. She shrunk into a corner of the elevator as far away from our fast-moving hands as she could.
With her safe, I turned my attention back to Blue Eyes. I made a low swipe at his kidney, which managed to connect, but he shrugged off the blow like it was nothing.
He came at me with his own lunging strike, which hit me right in the chest. This time, I was almost certain I heard something crack, and I was forced backward about a foot as the wind got knocked out of me.
I took in a wheezing breath and got back into a fighting stance. I stepped forward and tried to uppercut Blue Eyes right in the chin, but the blow fell slightly short, and I only scored a glancing hit.
My fist still had enough energy to make him stagger backward, so I followed it up with another punch at his gut. This one hit, too, and for a moment I felt like I was winning.
But only for a moment.
I tried to headbutt Blue Eyes to force him to the ground, but once more, he was faster than me, and he managed to grab hold of my head and wrench it backward before I could hit him. I flew backwards with more force than I would have thought possible, spinning in the air and managing to land squarely on my back for the second time in this conflict.
Which, for the record, was two more times than I liked.
Blue Eyes scowled at me again, then ducked into the elevator.
“Charmaine, no!” He was having an easy enough time with me. He’d kill her for sure.
I heard her scream out loud and Blue Eyes grunt, then before I knew it, Charmaine flew backward and was lying on the ground next to me.
“Are you okay?” I asked her. It looked like she’d hit her head, but I wasn’t
sure if that was a big deal for vampires or not. I wasn’t really positive on how their anatomy worked.
“I’m fine!” she insisted. “Go after that guy!”
“You got it.” I flashed her a grin and pushed myself back onto my feet.
The elevator door finished closing just a half second before I could squeeze my hand in there to prop it open, so I scanned the hallway for a stairway exit. There was always a second way down in case of fire.
“There!” Charmaine shouted. She was pointing toward a door about five feet away from me with a little stair icon above it.
I wanted to smack myself in the head. That was a little obvious, huh?
“Thanks!” I told her. Then I ran for the door, throwing it open as quickly as I could.
It was six flights down to the bottom of the apartment complex. That was a lot of stairs to traverse in not a lot of time. The elevator had been quite quick on the way up. I could only hope it stopped on the way down at least once, or I’d lose the killer for sure.
I took the steps two at a time, practically flying down them.
“Come on,” I chanted as my legs burned and my breath came in short spurts. I was really out of shape. “Just a little further.”
Then it was over. I was down the stairs and at the main floor. I spotted the door to the lobby and flung it open so hard I was shocked it remained on its hinges. I launched myself into the opening, coughing and wheezing from the exertion, and spun to find the elevator still closed.
My eyes scanned the lobby. The turnstile door looked to be undisturbed, so I could only assume the killer hadn’t made it out just yet. What luck.
Once more, I heard the elevator ding and the door slid open. As two quite prim and proper ladies piled off the elevator and into the lobby, my heart sank. I’d lost the killer after all.
But the door stayed open a bit longer, and another person walked off after them. I grinned as his eyes caught mine from across the room. It was Blue Eyes. I’d caught up with him after all.
“Thought you could get rid of me that easy, huh?” I said through labored breaths.