"What the fuck!?" Anthony's voice echoed through the house, making me jump. I was so used to living alone that this was definitely taking it's toll on me. I'd barely been able to sleep the past few days, constantly being woken from nightmares so I opted to not sleep at all. Gently placing a kiss on Baxter's collar, I thoughtfully placed it back in the box that contained a few photos and a small bottle of his ashes. Morbid, maybe, but I'd had him for so long that it felt wrong to just.. throw him in a hole and move on.
I closed the box and headed toward the living room where Anthony was playing some shooting game. "On your six, Trev," he said, his thumbs quickly pressing buttons and moving the analog sticks. Another slew of curses left his mouth when a player from the other team killed him again. "Hey, um.. Anthony? Is it alright if I take the car for a bit? I got a call from one of the police at the station this morning and they asked for me to go back to the apartment to talk over some things."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Keys are on the counter." He dismissed me quickly, too engrossed in his game to really care. I was sure he'd forget he told me it was fine, he could never have a conversation while playing that damn game.
The keys were cool in my hand, distracting me from the heat outside. The weather here was odd, during the day it was warm and humid but at night it was fairly cool with wind that could tear you to shreds. Putting the key in the ignition, I bit my bottom lip and wondered what was so important that the police needed me to come back to the.. crime scene. It wasn't my home anymore, I honestly didn't have any desire to go back there, but I also knew I couldn't stay with Anthony forever.
The catch is, Anthony is my ex. Our relationship was far from fairytale perfect. He cheated on me a lot, yet I stayed because I loved him. I thought that maybe if I stuck around and he saw how devoted I was to making it work, he'd stop cheating and realize that I'm "the one" for him. Young and dumb, I doubted my worth and he never changed. The only thing that changed was when he was old enough to drink and I regretfully found out how.. aggressive he was. I'll spare the details but needless to say, I spent quite a few nights in the hospital getting stitches and x-rays. As well as, well.. gruesome, I ended up losing a baby because of his bullshit. Our baby. God, I wanted a family with that piece of shit more than anything and he completely fucked me over.
I shook my head, releasing myself from my thoughts as I pulled into the duplex parking lot. Only two cars adorned the lot today, no lights, but still enough caution tape to give a mummy a run for it's money.
"Hello Miss," the same officer from the night of the break in welcomed me with a smile as I stepped out of the car. I smiled politely, closing the door behind me and shoving the keys into my jacket pocket.
"I know it's.. inconvenient of us to call you back here so soon, but we had a few questions for you," he said, turning to lead me toward the apartment complex. "You see," he continued, "the man who broke into your house, well.. he lived very close to you. We were wondering if you possibly knew him by chance?"
He led me up the stairs around the corner to the other building right beside mine. Cracking the door to apartment 3B, he gestured for me to go inside. Hesitantly, I stepped forward, a strong smell instantly overtaking my senses. My nose wrinkled before I covered it with the sleeve of my jacket, the odor almost instantly feeling sick.
"The man who lived here," the officer said, following close behind, his nose also wrinkled in disgust. "He was a killer, a cannibal." I glanced around, taking in my surroundings and my God.. it was creepy. Vintage, antique radios lined the walls, stacked almost to the ceiling in some places. Spiderwebs adorned nearly every corner of the ceiling, a very dirty and stained couch aligned with the main wall with a small table beside it, a few books wholeheartedly stacked neatly, a bookmark sticking out of each of them. Three large bookshelves were on the opposing wall from the couch, filled to the brim with books that were surprisingly not completely covered in dust or webs. The spines were cracked on almost all of them, years of wear and tear making a strong physical appearance. Caution tape was sporadically everywhere, from what I assume to keep the fingerprints fresh and untouched.
The officer stepped in front of me, leading me down a narrow hallway. My heart rate spiked, feeling a fear of a cliche horror movie. "We have the best forensics team in the state here taking a look over everything. Everyone else has gotten their samples and left to send them to the lab, but one remains and I believe she would like to speak with you." He tapped his knuckles on one of the doors that was barely cracked open.
"Come in," a rough but feminine voice answered. "I think I've gotten all the clues I can from this room."
The officer and I stepped inside. A large bed was placed against the corner of the wall, the striped blue sheets and blankets made up neatly. A dresser, a side table, a medium sized rug, a small trash can, and old brown curtains were all I could see. It looked so.. normal. Nothing I would have expected from a killer, but honestly I wasn't quite sure what to expect.
The woman approached me, pulling off the glove from her right hand. "Forensic Scientist, Brown." She said, offering her hand to me. I offered my own and gave a firm handshake. "(Y/n)," I replied shortly, giving another weary glance around the room. "So.. do you know who he is?" I asked, a tint of nervousness in my voice. She withdrew her hand and gave a slight sigh. "We honestly have no idea," she said shaking her head slightly, taking off the other rubber glove and tossing it into the nearby trash can. "None of his fingerprints are matching anything in the system. We took blood samples from your apartment as well as hair follicles but those tests haven't come back yet."
An overwhelming feeling of hopelessness washed over me. Sure, he was dead, but I still wanted to know who he was. "We did find a few photos," she continued, reaching for a brown package envelope on the dresser. "Take a look."
I hesitantly took the envelope, opening it to find a few small photos wrapped in little plastic bags. Pulling one out, I almost dropped to my knees.
Him.
The same shaggy brown hair. Those piercing eyes, thin face.
"Do you know this man?" The male officer prompted, pulling me from my thoughts. "I.. don't," I said, pushing my eyebrows together as I stared at the photo. "I honestly didn't know he lived here until a few weeks ago. He was taking out his trash very, very late at night and it seemed a bit odd. We got into a small altercation over Baxter and i hadn't seen him since."
Brown stared at me with a sympathetic look on her face. "I believe there's more you need to see," she said, holding out her hand for me to return the envelope. I shoved the photo back inside and handed it over. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" The male officer asked. Brown nodded in response.
"You see, ma'am. I don't think the break in was completely spontaneous," she said. She pulled a smaller envelope from the inside pocket of her jacket. "We believe this man has targeted you and was just waiting for his time to attack."
"What makes you think that?" I blurted. "I never spoke to him other than the one time, I don't even know his nam-"
She offered the smaller envelope, which I nearly ripped open. The photos were of something that looked like it was from a horror movie. Numerous photos of me were taped to a wall, small notes written on some of them that I couldn't quite make out. The photos were of me walking Baxter, me through open windows of my apartment, me at grocery stores, at work, in cars. My heart sank, who knows how long this creep had been stalking me.
"Wait a second," the male officer said. "You said he was taking out the trash.. what did the bag look like?" I looked at him with a confused look on my face. "Um.. it looked like a trash bag?" I replied, more as a question than an answer.
"We found that bag out near the woods." Be replied. "He didn't throw it away, he left it for us to find. It was full of.. clothes. Hair, jewelery, watches, things like that."
"I-I don't understand," I said, handing the photos back to Brown. She tucked them away back inside of her jacket. "This man was a killer," she interrupted. "He would kill and eat his victims, aside from the clothing and such, of course. The fridge and deep freezer we removed were full of.." she trailed off, leaving me to assume.
"Why would he just leave that stuff instead of getting rid of it? Did he want to get caught?" I asked, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Brown shook her head. "I don't think so. He took the lives of many, at this point I can only assume he was cocky and lazy, assuming he wouldn't get caught since he's gone this long under our radar. He always went after people that were loners, people that normally wouldn't have someone to report them missing."
I crossed my arms over my chest, at this point realizing that this man had no links to a family and preyed upon anyone he assumed was the same. Would anyone have even noticed if he.. killed me? Would anyone have cared to come by and check on me if they hadn't heard from me?
"Let's go outside. I still have a few questions for you, miss," the officer said. The smell of death must have been taking it's toll on him and I happily agreed. My eyes wandered across all of this man's belongings as we left, wishing I could set everything up in flames. That's all the bastard deserved.
I hope he rots in hell.