Those That Slither | ON HOLD

Thirteen

Her gut bubbled, "Already?"

--

"Good afternoon, Leah."

A man in a Navy blue Polo shirt greeted them from behind the front desk. His pale skin and thinning hair made him stand out like a sore thumb, but his kindness overthrew his appearance. He had been one of the first people to properly welcome her when she moved to Channing, and had been a sweetheart to her ever since. "How are you this fine day?" He asked, smiling.

Leah smiled and leaned on the lip of the desk, trying to seem as normal as possible, "I'm doing fine, thanks Harold." She peered at Daniel gathering her mind before returning to her library friend, "Do you have a minute? I need your help."

"For you, anything!"

The words lined up as she straightened her back and retrieved the book from Daniel before thumping it on the desktop, "I found this book at a bus stop and was wondering if you could help me find the current person who checked it out."

"What a doosie. Let me see what I can do." His fingers opened the book to the back before typing in some odd keys on his computer. He hummed a few times before finally sending a finger into the air in excitment, "Aha!"

"You found them?"

Harold nodded gleefully, "This is why they pay me the big bucks. I'll call them right now!"

Eyes wide and heart screaming, she shook her head and tapped on the book frantically, "N-no don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Well," she gulped, "You see, this book is in my language and I-I would really like to connect. I was hoping I could return it personally."

Pale ol' Harold stopped for a second, moving his head from the computer screen to her and back a few times. He was making her sweat with all the deciding he was doing. However, he finally looked over his glasses and lowered his voice, "I shouldn't do this." He turned and jingled a pen from a cup, "But you're one of my favorites. I suppose I could make an exception."

His hands pulled a sticky notepad in front of him as he wrote the information down rather quickly. Relief settled on Leah as he handed it to her and smiled, "Don't tell on me, okay?"

She smiled, thankful her lying was over with, "You got it. Have a nice day!" They parted from the desk and exited the building like they'd just robbed the place. But Leah waited until she was beside the truck to finally have a look and what he wrote down. Her eyes scanned over his cursive hand writing.

Daniel leaned in to get a look, "You think it's him?"

She looked up at him, "I think we found our fish, mister bear."

--

Simon Ellis. That was his name.

The man who stalked her and began everything she'd gone through had a name. Since she'd received the paper, Leah wasn't able to say it out loud, but just knowing he was in fact real and not just some figment of a nightmare made her want to vomit.

He had a home somewhere, and probably an established life. But did the people know about him? Or did he isolate himself from everyone besides his victims? She wondered if he had friends. And if he did, were they aware of what he did? Did he have a career? A wife? Even kids? Could someone as cruel as him even have pets?

What did his home look like? She imagined it as one of the horror movies she'd seen in which the house was gorgeous, but had a secret cellar in which the victims were kept. Was that how he lived his life?

Her teeth chewed on her lips as Leah tried to stay afloat in an ocean of questions. The drive wasn't a long one and she wanted to get all her fear out before they arrived. Which was turning out to be a disaster. She just kept making questions and scenarios up, which in turn made her sick.