When Colour Became Grey

by A Lorenzen

  How was this possible? I thought all he could do was sense my emotions! Could he alter my memories and feelings? Make me forget? No, that couldn’t be. No, the blood was playing tricks on me.

  Or was it? The feeling was familiar, the missing connection, the sensation of looking into my own feelings and not being able to connect to them…

  That’s why I had been so calm at the hearing after Ben’s death! Caleb must have altered my memories then too! How could he do this? How could he betray me like that?! All I had were my memories of Ben and he was messing with them!

  I screamed at the top of my lungs. How could he?! This was the last time, the last time he would control me! I wouldn’t let him get away with this! He was just like Blake, meddling in my business! Treating me like a child! What was wrong with all these men here?!

  Furious, I raced back to Caleb’s house. As I approached, I saw someone leaving his house. The person gesticulated backwards towards Caleb who was standing in his open front door and walked down the gravel walkway towards the street. I swerved to the side and turned off my lights. Who was that arguing with him?

  I watched the person get in the car and drive away. Caleb slammed his door shut. I decided to follow the person that had just left. It wasn’t Blake, but who else would come to see Caleb in the middle of the night? What the hell was going on?!

  Eventually, the car stopped in an upper-class suburban area. The streetlight was patchy, and I had trouble seeing who it was. He was too tall to be a woman…

  The person locked the car and walked up to the porch of a nearby house. In the darkness I couldn’t see his face, but I saw a mop of curly hair bouncing in the spare light of the porch.

  It was Jesper.

  There was no doubt in my mind. The moment I was sure of his identity, I decided it would be his last night. I reached under the passenger seat for the knife I had taped to the underside of the seat. The knife was long and thin, a slick and quiet killer.

  This was it, my one chance for justice.

  Jesper lingered on the porch for a few moments. As he entered his house, he turned on the light inside and closed the door behind himself. He turned off the porchlight. Perfect for me.

  I checked my watch and waited precisely two minutes before getting out of my car. Gently, I opened and closed the door without slamming it and hurried across the street to his house. The front door was locked, but there was a side gate. I took one last look around; the street was empty.

  I ran on cat’s feet over the lawn and jumped up onto the side gate, swung my legs over the top, and dropped back onto my feet on the other side. I tiptoed along the wall towards the back of the garden. The light in the conservatory was on and it flooded out into the snow-covered garden. Peeking around the corner into the house, I saw Jesper filling a glass of wine. There were rhythmic sounds of bass audible through the conservatory windows.

  He turned towards me and I ducked behind the wall. The thrill excited me.

  The light switched off. My ears perked up. I heard the regular sound of feet hitting steps and then silence. For a second time, I peeked around the corner of the house. This time the conservatory and kitchen were dark. The garden was lit from the lights on the first floor.

  I crept up towards the door of the conservatory, laid my right hand on the handle and tried to press it down. It was locked. Annoyed I looked around. There had to be a spare key somewhere. Carefully, I picked up the flowerpots around the terrace one by one but found no key. There was a bigger pot with a sort of tree bursting from it. In summer it would have been blooming, but the winter had stripped it of all its greens and only the grey branches remained.

  It was heavy and before I had time to look under it, the pot slipped out of my hand and came crashing down onto the terrace. It didn’t fall from very high, but it was heavy enough to make a deep thumping noise.

  I hurried away from the conservatory and back behind the house. Just as I had reached safety, I heard Jesper open the window. I could see from his shadow he was standing by the window and looking outside.

  Sweat pearled down my forehead. This could not go wrong. I was so close. Would he see my footsteps in the snow?

  Eventually, he shut the window and his shadow moved away. Then the lights were turned on again in the kitchen. I gripped the knife tighter. If he was coming outside, I had to be ready.

  But nothing happened. When I looked inside once more, I saw him pour himself another glass of wine and return upstairs.

  My first thought was to be relieved he would be inebriated and could easily be overpowered. Then, I thought it was a shame because he would not realize to the full extent what would happen.

  I continued my search. After checking all the flowerpots, I still had no key. Angry I started looking under the garden gnomes, trying not to make too much noise, and periodically glancing up to the lit bedroom. Under one of them I found a small black plastic bag. When I touched it, I could feel the contours of a key. Finally!

  I rushed to the door and inserted the key into the lock. Slowly I turned the key until I could hear the click of the latch unlocking. I opened the door without making a sound. Jesper was still upstairs. My heart was racing. It was almost time. The feeling was exhilarating. The knife in my hand felt good.

  My feet made no noise as they carried me up the carpeted stairs towards Jesper. The stairs bent around a corner and I could see his back. The sense of anticipation and excitement now mixed with my anger.

  ‘There you are,’ I whispered.

  Jesper jumped and turned around, spilling his wine on the cream carpet.

  ‘Who are you?!’ he squealed, squinting in my direction as I emerged from the shadows. When he recognized me, his face expressed nothing but disregard. ‘What do you want?’ He waited for me to reach the landing.

  ‘You killed Ben.’ I could barely recognize my own voice. It was deep and full of hatred.

  ‘The vampire-,’ Jesper tried.

  ‘NO!’ Silence followed. ‘No, you killed him. You didn’t show’

  There was a flicker of fear in his eyes. ‘I couldn’t have saved him.’

  ‘YES! You could have SAVED him! At least have the balls to admit it!’

  Jesper eyed me for a moment, the wine glass still in his hand. I took out my gun. Now he finally looked worried.

  ‘I can’t do this with a gun,’ I stated, ‘It’s too impersonal.’ I placed the gun on the chest of drawers in the hallway, next to the stairs. Instead, I pulled the knife higher into view; the knife that would be his end.

  For a moment we stood without moving, looking at each other. I had waited all this time for justice. I had begged Caleb to intervene and nothing had happened. Now, I would deliver justice myself.

  Jesper threw the wine glass at my head and jumped backwards towards his desk. I ducked and ran after him, hearing the glass splinter on the wall behind me and shards rain down onto the winding stairs. With the knife in hand I threw myself at him. Jesper spun around and fell to the floor, taking down most of the content on his desk with him.

  The knife slammed into the wooden desk and stayed stuck there. In the tussle I did not see that Jesper had found a weapon. He jammed a letter opener into my calf. I let out a scream and kneed him in the nose. I let go of my knife and Jesper threw something my way. With my arms in the air shielding my face, Jesper was able to rip the letter opener from my calf and jam it back in again. I screamed, bowed down to my calf to remove the letter opener, and thrust my foot into Jesper’s side. Jesper rolled to the nightstand and reached inside it.

  Before I had time to pull him away, he had a gun in his hand. I reached for the mesh bin next to his desk and threw it at him. He fired but missed as the bin hit him on the forearm. I lunged behind the desk before he had time to shoot again. The bullets pierced through his wooden desk, leaving splinters on the ground. On the floor next to me lay two drawers ripped out from his desk, the contents dispersed on the floor. I saw a gun among the debris and reached for it while Jesper trie
d to get up.

  I slid out from underneath the desk and shot at his hand holding the gun. He screamed as the bullet tore his hand open. The gun fell to the floor. I stood up and reached for my knife still stuck in the desk. He tried to run but I pulled the trigger again. A tortured echo left his lips as he held his bleeding leg.

  With the knife back in my hand, I left the gun on the desk. The air was filled with the smell of blood. I could feel a familiar desire deep inside me. Jesper lay on the floor, his back against the bedframe.

  ‘Tell the truth,’ I demanded.

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘Tell me the truth!’

  ‘Alright!’ he shouted back. ‘Yes, I could have saved him! Are you happy now? I could have saved him, but I didn’t! He put himself in danger and I was not gonna risk my life for his sorry ass!’

  His eyes glistened with madness.

  I bent down awkwardly, my calf making me wriggle painfully like an eel. It had looked more graceful in my mind…

  ‘You don’t deserve to be here,’ I stated and slammed the knife into his left thigh. Blood spilled out of the wound while Jesper’s scream bounced off the walls.

  ‘He died because of you,’ I repeated, taking the knife out of his thigh. A wave of blood spread over his jeans and dripped into the carpet.

  I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Killing molochs and vampires was one thing, killing a ghost was very close to killing a human being. Why didn’t I feel guilty?

  ‘Fuck you!’ Jesper screamed in my face with spittle dripping from his lower lip.

  I tilted my head to the side and slowly angled the blade for a new attack, while he tried to stem the flood of blood from the wound on his thigh with his left hand. With a quick motion I hammered the knife into his right thigh. He tried to wriggle away from me but there was nowhere for him to go.

  ‘Stop it, please,’ he begged.

  I could not help but smile. ‘After all you have done, you will finally be judged.’

  The sharp tip trailed along his trembling skin. He gasped and cried, trying to hold the blood in his body. A part of me felt pleasure seeing him like this, seconds from his death.

  ‘Crazy bitch!’ Jesper mumbled under his breath. His face was white. His hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

  The dripping blade moved up from his thigh to his stomach where I let it hover. His face distorted in anticipation. Like a snake lunging forward to catch a frog, the blade plunged to the side of his stomach. Jesper’s short scream followed. It was like a symphony. I pushed the knife in further and he screamed again.

  The blood spilled over my hand. His body shivered and sank down further onto the now soaked red carpet.

  ‘Are you suffering now?’ I asked. Images of Ben flashed before my eyes.

  Jesper was too far gone to answer. His upper body slowly sank towards the nightstand. The knife slipped out of his stomach with the pressure of the blood escaping the wound. The copper smell was everywhere. A sea of red was spreading underneath us.

  I inched closer until our noses were almost touching. The mean little shit he had been was gone. There was nothing left but a terrified little man now. His eyes were wide open, the sweat from his face dripping into his chest, mixing with the blood.

  The blade firmly in my hand, I proceeded to deliver the final and fatal blow into his torso, twisting the knife up and around to ensure maximum destruction. Jesper’s face distorted as the knife tore through his intestines. The pain paralyzed his face in stunned shock. The last of the colour left his face, his breathing ceased, and his muscles relaxed. The distress of imminent death disappeared. All that was left was a lifeless body sprawled on the floor, blood everywhere.

  My act of revenge was completed. I looked down at my blood covered hand, still gripping the knife. The tip was trembling. A drop of blood dripped down onto my thigh. Slowly I stood up and left the bedroom. I turned right into the bathroom, where I washed my hands.

  There was a noise downstairs. Immediately I froze in place. Was it my imagination or was someone there?

  There was a thump and then the sound of keys.

  Damn.

  On cat’s feet, I returned back to the scene of my crime. Did I leave anything? Frantically I picked up my gun from the chest of drawers, as well as the other gun on the desk. I stuffed the bloody knife inside my jacket pocket and nestled one of the guns into the back of my jeans. The second gun I kept in my hand. Whoever was here, I might have to kill them as well.

  The front door unlocked and someone entered the house. ‘Jesper?’ a woman’s voice called out.

  I had to get out!

  There were two possible exits: either out the bathroom window and into the garden, or out the guest bedroom window and into the street. Or I could hide and try sneaking out through the front door but that seemed highly risky.

  ‘Jesper?’ The woman called out again, this time louder.

  She would come upstairs in a few seconds. I tiptoed towards the guest bedroom, praying the floorboards under the cream carpet would not creak as I moved.

  The sound of her feet coming closer to the stairs were audible as I reached for the window in the guest bedroom. The broken wine glass and spilled wine decorated the stairs; she would know something was not right.

  Before I had reached the window latch, I heard the woman come up the stairs and I deviated to hide behind the open door.

  A wild scream shook the house. She cried and yelped at the horror I had created. My eyes returned to the window, but I couldn’t get to it without being seen. I couldn’t get out.

  Her cries lasted a few minutes before she managed to stumble down the stairs again. I turned the handle and opened the window, wiping at it to smear my fingerprints. She was calling someone on the phone. Clumsily, I stretched one leg out of the window, and then swung the other one over. A small roof overhung the porch, but it was steep. I hoisted myself out of the window and lowered myself as close as possible to the gutter. While I slowly slid down, my escape was marked in the snow.

  Suddenly, I lost my grip; I scrapped over the screeching gutter and landed with a thud on the ground. My feet and hands hurt as I landed clumsily on all fours.

  She certainly had heard me. I ran across the street and ducked under some large bushes at a neighbouring house, away from the streetlights. Indeed, the moment I reached the bushes the woman opened the front door; gun in hand, ready to shoot. I froze, not daring to breathe. My footsteps in the snow at the front of Jesper’s house led out onto the street but once there, they disappeared on the cleared road. They wouldn’t lead her to my hiding place.

  If I had to, I would kill her too, but I preferred to only end Jesper’s life. He had now paid for his sins.

  She walked towards the street but turned to the right, away from me. This was my chance. Risking it all, I darted off in the opposite direction towards my car.

  Now I was very glad I had parked it further away.

  As much as could, I ran quietly and quickly. I had not locked the car, so I managed to open and close the driver’s door in one quick motion making no sound. Before turning the ignition, I switched off the automatic headlights. I pressed the start button and the car rumbled to life.

  Then there were shots fired. Close. I pressed the gas pedal so far down the wheels spun and I stayed glued in place. More shots. I took my foot off the gas and tried again. There was snow under the tyres. I had to fight all my instincts and gently tap the gas pedal again. Finally, the wheels gripped and the car started moving. A bullet whizzed by and splintered the window behind me. I raced off, the car swerving dangerously, hoping the woman would not be able to identify the kind of car I was driving.

  Only after a few minutes did I dare to turn on the headlights.

  My heart was racing. It dawned on me what I had done. The drying blood formed a sticky crust on my clothes and hands. I felt horrible, but no shame in the actual act. Jesper deserved to die after what he had done. He was responsible for the deaths of his trainer and o
f his recruit. It was only right to end his life.

  On the other hand, the fact that I had been capable of killing him scared me. I had never thought of myself as an aggressive person. And now I was a murderer. A murderer!

  I had taken a life. A life that wasn’t deserving of living, but still a life.

  Ben would have understood. He would have wanted Jesper dead too. Yes… Everything was ok…

  It was done now. There was no going back. Hopefully the woman had not seen me and I had not left any fingerprints or other incriminating evidence behind. Would there even be an investigation? Did the council have police to inspect a crime scene? Probably not…

  I parked in front of Blake’s house. Before getting out of my car I reached into the glove compartment and got out anti-bacterial wipes. My hands had left red traces of evidence everywhere on the wheel and gearstick. I cleaned it all up and stuffed the stained wipes into my pockets.

  The bullet had splintered the window in the back, but it was still holding tight, with the bullet lodged firmly in the right corner. I would have to get rid of the car.

  With a wipe in my hand I opened the entrance door and took off my shoes. There was blood on the soles but just like the car, I would take care of that in the morning. My clothes were stained with blood. I would have to get rid of them, burn them somewhere. Fuck. Murder was such a mess…

  I was tiptoeing towards my room when the light switched on, blinding me. I held up my arm to shield my eyes.

  ‘What the hell happened?’ Blake gasped. ‘Are you hurt?’

  When my eyes had finally adjusted to the light, I saw Blake’s shocked expression. He came closer, looking at me with his steel-blue eyes.

  I followed his gaze down to my body. I was covered in blood. It was everywhere. My hands, arms, sweater, jeans… I couldn’t believe how much blood was on me considering how much blood had been on the floor…

  ‘Is this from molochs?’ Blake asked. His suspicion was all too audible.

  ‘No,’ I admitted. How would he react when I told him whose blood this was?