One Night

02:00

Remember what they taught you at the Academy.

Private Auditore pressed his back against the edge of the door frame, Glock 17 in hand. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before muttering a soft prayer to himself. He peeked at the hallway.

Empty.

Ever since the gunfire, he could practically hear a pin drop within the building. The chilling silence did nothing to ease his nerves, only adding layers of mystery to the situation. Emma, where the heck are you? He wondered, fear and frustration mounting as he inched farther into the unknown.

Remember what they taught you at the Academy.

Private Auditore took his first step into the hallway, led closely by the barrel of his handgun. His heart pumped steadily as he crept forward, body planted firmly against the wall. The polished marble floor squeaked softly under his boots and the air was filled with the overpowering stench of lavendar, emitted by scented candles littered along the hallway.

Private Auditore glanced into the rooms lining along the hallway. Most of them had their doors open, allowing him to survey the inside with ease. One door, however, was shut tight. Sensing something amiss, Agent Auditore reached for the door handle, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn't.

The door creaked open, revealing a bedroom, walls coated in a pleasant shade of sky blue. Eyes darting from left to right, Auditore scanned the place in search for signs of activity. Seems like a kid's room. He noticed the myriad of K-pop posters that covered the walls and wardrobe. Probably male and in his teens. Piles of class assignments and textbooks were stacked on the desk and dumbbell sets of varying weights lay quietly on the floor next to the bed.

Then he saw it.

It was barely noticeable, easily missed by a quick sweep of the eye, but Auditore was not one who missed the slightest of details. Auditore widened his eyes, tightening his grip on his weapon. Beads of perspiration started trickling down the side of his face as he advanced, one heavy step after another.

Remember what they taught you at the Academy.

"FBI," Auditore pointed his Glock 17 towards the bed, ordering in a firm voice, "Get out from under the bed. Now."

No response. Clearing his throat, Auditore repeated himself, this time firmer and louder, "Whoever you are, I saw you move. Get out from under the bed now!"

Still no response. Gritting his teeth, Auditore peered over at the bedside table, his eyes catching sight of what was written in pencil on the top of the class assignment. "Walter... Walter Anderson," he asked, this time lightening his tone and crouching down, "Is that you? Kid, there's no need to be afraid. I'm one of the good guys, okay? Don't worry, I'm here to-"

Private Auditore's jaw dropped.

Almost as if in response, a pool of dark red blood had slowly and insidiously oozed out from under the bed. Heart nearly skipping a beat at what he saw, Auditore instantly fell onto all fours, the side of his face pressed against the floor. A man lay underneath the bed motionless, staring coldly back at him. Private Auditore recoiled in horror, landing flat on his buttocks. The man's face was blank and his lips blue, mouth gaping open as if gasping for air. Throat slashed, blood poured out his neck profusely like an open tap.

Who... Who did this? Private Auditore's heart raced, his mind in a spin. The pool of blood continued expanding, painting the carpeted floor with an eerie coat of red.

Then, the wardrobe next to him creaked.

...

One hand on his holstered weapon, Agent Auditore strutted swiftly into the living room of the house. Eyes peeled, the first thing he scanned were the doors and windows, on the lookout for hints of forced entry.

"Feel free to look around officer but I assure you you've come to the wrong house," Jeremy said, locking the door behind him, "It's just me, myself and I here."

We'll see about that. Agent Auditore checked the furniture for unusual scratches and dents indicating signs of a struggle. As he scrutinised the edges of tables and chairs, however, he couldn't help but notice how different the place was compared to the last time he came. Back then, the house exploded with colour. Family portraits hung on every wall, pans in the kitchen sizzled with delight and the sweet, homely fragrance of morning bacon and eggs hung in the air. This place was a ghost of its former self.

"How long have you been staying here Jeremy?" Agent Auditore asked, wandering into the kitchen, "You know anything about the previous residents?"

"A year and a half," Jeremy's voice came from the living room, "and all I know is that this place was on sale when I decided to move to the suburbs. So I bought it."

"Right," Agent Auditore noticed the piles of unwashed kitchenware in the sink, "And why'd you decide to move off on your own to the suburbs? What are you, twenty? You should be in college."

"Nah I figured I'd get a fresh start on my own," Jeremy walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of plain water, "Needed some fresh air for a project I've been working on."

"Project?" Agent Auditore eyed the array of kitchen knives that dangled freely on the wall next to Jeremy, "And what project is that?"

"It's nothing," Jeremy sipped his water, scoffing at himself, "Some call me an entrepreneur but honestly I'm not too sure what I'm doing myself."

"Right," Agent Auditore crossed his arms, "and what's your parents' thoughts on this? You miss your family?"

"Well..." Jeremy gritted his teeth, "I do, actually. I haven't seen them in... A while."

Agent Auditore's etched his eyebrows.

"But I remind myself every day that they'd be proud of what I do," Jeremy went on, his hazel brown eyes fixed ahead, "It's what keeps me going."

Thunder exploded in the endless downpour outside.

"Where's your parents?" Agent Auditore asked, "Where do they stay?"

Jeremy's upper lip instantly curled, his eyebrows narrowing. He glared at Auditore, a clear look of repulsiveness in his hazel brown eyes. Finishing up the rest of his water, Jeremy quietly placed the empty cup onto the kitchen table.

"You should know, Private Auditore," Jeremy broke the silence, both hands grabbing the edge of the wooden table, "You've met them before."

TO BE CONTINUED