The young boy stood in the midst of the night, dark it was. Jacob could hear the sound of a “crack!” in the distance. He could not see where it was coming from, due to the heavy amount of the misty fog that crept along the otherwise silent road. The fog was so thick that he could not even determine if he was walking along the road or towards a building on the side of it. He did not have a candle with him, not even a set of matches. Nonetheless, Jacob was not afraid of what was in his wake towards the almost-ear-splitting sound. He kept on walking, though sure not to walk fast due to any occurrences of the current circumstances of the night. He kept quiet, listening closely for the next cracking noise.
Earlier that day there had been a murder. The radios of the town were tuned up all day, the civilians waiting to hear any information concerning the crime. A man named Kevin was heard, a last name, oddly enough, was not given. The name was just Kevin. No. That was not enough information, especially for the fourteen-year-old Jacob. The young boy’s ambition was to, as he put it, “find the bad guys.” The murder apparently cost the life of a woman, no other information was given, other than the fact that it was in Jacob’s very own town.
As he walked toward the trail of the echo, Jacob heard it again. CRACK. This time it was obviously louder because he was closer than before. His heart was pumping a bit faster because of what he might encounter. He did not know. Still he was not afraid of what it was, oddly excited. He wanted to know. He wanted to figure out this case completely. But what if it was already solved? What if “something” kept it from being fully told? He still had no answers and was determined to find out what had happened, nevertheless.
He walked and walked, on and on silently toward the noise. “What was that crack?”, Jacob thought aloud. He immediately covered his mouth, now in fear that something will happen to him. His eyes bulged at something in the distance. The complete opposite of happiness filled in his chest. He saw a light through the fog. Somewhat close to him, but still possibly a hundred feet away. He imagined it being an open door.
The light turned off.
Jacob, half frightened, half determined, speed-walked toward the spot in area where the door had opened. Fifty feet. Forty feet. Twenty. Ten. He reached for the door, but something snagged at the collar of his shirt compelling him to stumble backwards. He didn’t fall, so he turned to see nothing behind him. He tried the handle again, but it was locked, and an even tougher snag caught his collar and he stumbled backward enough to trip on the curb of the sidewalk, and smacked the back of his head onto it. Jacob rose and touched the back of his head with his finger-tips and there was blood. The bright, shiny blood somehow motivated the boy to want to do this even more. Again, he glanced at the blackened door of the building, and with another glance at the blood on his finger-tips, Jacob jolted at the door, and omitted it from its bolted locks. He was now excited that he was into the house. Or was it a house? Nonetheless, the clash of the torn door lock could have woken the whole of the nearby neighborhood.
Jacob, his heart now beating faster than ever, stopped in his tracks, to make sure nothing would happen in the next few minutes. Whence he opened his eyes, he glanced around for the staircase in the house. When he saw it he headed towards it, the gray stone stairs, not carpet, but stone. The house was cold, and Jacob started to shiver. He didn’t know whether it was the house or something contained within it. The split second after he took the first step on the staircase, a woman screamed at the top of her lungs. But wait, wasn’t the woman… gone?, Jacob thought. His spine shivered. The screaming seized. Jacob’s shaking leg lifted toward the second step. The scream this time was even louder than before. His pulse was on fire, Jacob was now frightened, but there was no turning back; being still on the first floor, and WHAM. The door that he broke open slammed shut and he could hear the lock click.
Jacob assumed now that he had his chance to observe what was now taking place. He accelerated up the steps to the top landing. The woman’s screams were almost unbearable to witness. Jacob fell onto his knees, holding his ears in pain. His head was now throbbing from the screams. Her screaming stopped once again. He opened his eyes to see something that he would have never expected. It lay on the floor, covered, no, smeared in dark blood, the stench was horrid. The rotting corpse burning his nose. Jacob now realized that this was not just any body – it was the murderer’s. His eyes widened. He looked around, and there was a closed door on his left and another straight behind him and then saw a bathroom dead ahead, open, as if somebody had been in there.
Covering his nose he crept over to the bathroom, looking ahead the mirror was fogged, and there was even more blood smeared all over it. He walked into the bathroom and noticed that there was nothing in it. Jacob looked up at the mirror, the hall light turned on, he saw a face, and the bathroom door slammed.
9 March 2013
T.P. Lanzarotto 