Chapter 3
Walls Closing In
Alex woke up. It was early noon, and the sun was gleaming down her face from the open window beside her. Her hair was rumpled with several strands departing from the rest of her head. Her breath was warm. Her school uniform had been folded and crumpled from her nine hour sleep, leaving behind an ample amount of crease lines on the fabric. She pulled herself up, searched the living room for any sign of Aunt Melanie.
“Aunt Melanie?” she called. No response. There was nobody around her. Just an empty living room and kitchen. What’s more, the front door was shot wide open.
She threw away the comforter that had been wrapped around her, pillaged the kitchen until she found a chopping knife, stainless steel with three silver rivets on the handle. Tip-toeing with her socks so as not to make any noise, she ventured into Aunt Melanie’s bedroom, creeping by the corner of the wall, clasping tightly onto the blade. By the time the walls stopped and Aunt Melanie’s room began, Alex quickly peaked inside. There was nobody inside but Aunt Melanie, lying dead on her bed.
As Alex came closer however, knife still in hand, she realized that Aunt Melanie wasn’t dead, but passed out. She was breathing slowly, but breathing nonetheless. Located directly beside her face was an open flask that smelled of Jack Daniels. A few drops of it had poured on the bed, though it didn’t seem as though it had been done so deliberately.
“Aunt Melanie?” Alex shook her up just to make sure she was still alive.
Aunt Melanie waved her off and sighed. “Put it on his tab,” she groaned, then went back to sleep.
She was alive alright. False alarm.
Alex left her aunt alone, and shut the front door. She picked up her phone and made a call to Amy.
Five rings. And then, “Hi.”
“Amy?”
“This is Amy Lawson. I’m not here right now, so please leave a message.”
Alex hung up. Tried again. Five more rings, and the same message.
Was Amy dead? She thought to herself. She had already tried calling Amy ten times last night to no avail. And while the girl with the frozen heart didn’t dread to think it, the chance was there that Lord Combermere had killed her as well.
But that was too much speculation.
Or was it?
Alex tried her phone again, this time calling Amy’s home. On the third ring, someone picked up.
“Hello?”
It was Amy’s mother.
“Hello Mrs. Lawson. I was wondering if Amy was home.”
“Oh she is,” said Mrs. Lawson. A moment of silence. Then, “But she’s resting now. Amy came home dreadfully late from wherever it was she went. She’s been sick, and she hasn’t said a word since she got back. This is Alexandra, I presume?”
“It is.”
“Alexandra,” she scrunched her lips. Alex didn’t see this of course, but she could tell by the way the woman spoke. “I heard what happened. I am so sor-”
Alex hung up. The girl without a soul went to the kitchen and she served herself a bowl of Aunt Melanie’s cereal. Then, she completed last night’s homework, and since she had nothing else to do, she read a few chapters ahead.
At precisely half an hour later, there came a knocking sound on the door. Unexpected and out of the blue. As a precaution, Alex once again picked up the chopping knife in the kitchen. Cautiously, she peered into the peephole with one eye, found that there was no one there. She unlocked the door, kept the sharp end of the knife below her pinky. Alex tucked it behind her back as she slowly opened the door. What came into view was a dark skinned man in a wheelchair. He was short, old, and wore a pair of spectacles around his eyes. He had a long nose, and there were boils and pimples all over his face, making him look more goblin than man.
“Where is she?” the goblin grumbled.
“Where is who?” Alex said in return.
“Don’t toy with me child. You know who I’m talking about.”
“You mean Mrs. Melanie?”
The goblin raised his chin. “Who else would I be talking about?”
“May I ask what this is regarding?”
“May I ask what this is regarding?” he mocked. “She’s late on rent. And I’m not letting her off the hook anymore.”
The goblin-faced man wheeled himself closer to the door, at which point Alex began to turn the knob towards the strike plate. With her body, she blocked the stranger from the door’s opening.
“Let me in,” he demanded.
“How much does she owe?”
“I said let me in.”
Alex remained where she was, unthreatened by the wheel-chair man’s rising voice.
“How much does she owe?” she asked again, looking down at his oily face as she spoke.
“What’s it to you little girl?”
“She’s family.”
“Is that right now? I never knew she had such a thing. Well, if that’s the case she owes me $900.”
“Stay right here,” Alex said.
Alex left him by the doorway, placed the knife in her hand back in the kitchen, and retrieved a purse from inside her school bag. She handed him a set of even numbered bills that amounted to exactly $900.
“That should be it,” she told him.
“You keep that kind of money in your purse?”
“I’m travelling,” Alex was quick to reply. Better that than admit to the old goblin that $900 where she came from was but meager change.
“Huh. Anyway, if you see her, let her know that the hot water’s out. It won’t be repaired for at least another day.”
“Will do.”
Alex shut the door shortly before the half-goblin half-man could turn around to leave. She was about to go back to reading her textbooks when from out the kitchen window, she saw three boys kicking at something black and white. At first she thought it was a soccer ball. But upon closer observation, it, whatever it was, appeared to have four legs and a tail. It didn’t bounce with each kick, but moaned. And unlike a ball, the only thing round was its head.
In order to get a closer look at what was happening, Alex left the apartment room and climbed down seven sets of stairs. As she reached ground level, she made her way to a row of parked cars next to the apartment complex. There, she saw the same three boys forcing their shoes on a defenseless cat with immense enthusiasm.
“What are you doing?” she called out to them.
The tallest one looked up to greet Alex. Immediately after he noticed her, he urged his two friends that it was high time to leave. The glee of what they had been doing suddenly left them, and she could see it in their eyes that what they felt was shame.
“Let’s get out of here,” the tallest one came again. Before Alex could let in another word, they were already fleeing the scene.
She stood beside the cat as she watched the three boys disappear. When they did, her attention went to the stray animal. Its left eye was lower than its right, and it was coughing up blood on the grey pavement. Around the animal’s neck was a short leash, which was tied onto the side mirror of an empty car.
That explained how the boys were able to kick it several times without the cat being able to run anywhere.
Alex briefly considered what she would do with the animal. Given that it was lying on its stomach, too weak to move, it probably wouldn’t have gone anywhere now even if she let it go.
She lowered herself to the animal’s reach, and took the liberty of closely examining its injuries. From what could be told, based on the mushy muscle mass around its gut, the cat had a few shattered ribs, and there was likely to be some internal bleeding. The cat muttered a weak, feline groan when she pushed her index finger further into its stomach.
“I guess that hurt.”
Alex, who had never felt pain in her life, had not the slightest idea of what the animal was going through.
Funny, she thought, that a cat had more of a soul than she did.
She released the leash around
its neck, carefully cradled it in her arms. There was no resistance. In fact, if it was capable of such a thing, Alex would have sworn that it was expressing a hint of satisfaction.
With what little energy the cat had left, it stretched its head and licked her savior on the face. A liquid residue was left behind on her cheeks. Not just saliva, but blood as well.
When Alex went back inside, Aunt Melanie was trudging along her kitchen, taking small sips from a hot cup of coffee while scratching her head.
“You’re awake,” Alex observed.
“How are you?” Aunt Melanie voiced with immense concern for her nephew, even though it would have been obvious to anyone that the only person she should truly have been concerned for was herself.
Aunt Melanie shot Alex a momentary glimpse, but paid no mind to the stray animal in her possession. Either she didn’t notice it, or she didn’t care.
“I’m fine,” replied Alex. “And you?”
Aunt Melanie went over to her dining table.
“Still getting used to the idea.” She looked out the window and trailed off. “I won’t get to tell her all the things I wanted to say.”
A soft purr began from the feline in Alex’s arms.
“Where’d you find that cat?” Aunt Melanie asked, her eyes narrowed to a scowl.
“It was on the street,” Alex replied.
“Alexandra, you can’t just go around picking up strange cats. What if it belongs to someone?”
Alex raised the animal’s limp paw. “If it does, I don’t think it’s going to able to find its home like this.”
Aunt Melanie glanced at a sample of the animal’s extensive injuries, squirmed at the thought of what it had to have gone through to leave such marks around its body.
“What happened to it?”
“I saw a couple of boys kicking at it.”
The mere image of such a thing happening was enough to disarm Alex’s aunt.
“We should take it to the vet,” she suggested. She pulled her jacket from the hanger in her closet, and off to the vet’s they went.
The animal doctor was a man named Doctor Joshua Hockley. Before taking in the cat for treatment, he asked Aunt Melanie why she felt the need to kick the animal around. When both Aunt Melanie and Alex Frost told the doctor that they had simply found it that way, he lowered a suspicious eyebrow and simply remarked with, “That’s what they all say.”
“It will take us a few days to heal the injuries,” he then informed them. “And then we’ll send it over to animal services. In the mean time, you would do well to know that animals are living things too.”
Once they returned to the apartment, the sky began to turn dark. There was nothing inside the fridge to constitute a dinner (unless they wanted to stuff themselves with yogurt and ice cream), and neither of them would have wanted to cook even if there was. Thus, Alex and Aunt Melanie ordered pizza for the second time.
“I hope the cat gets better,” remarked Aunt Melanie.
“Me too,” came Alex. Though in actuality, she wasn’t sure that she cared either way.
“Did you ever have a pet back in Suburnia?”
“No,” she recalled. “Mom didn’t like the idea of letting an animal run around the house, and when I asked dad, he told me to go ask mom.”
The two laughed. One out of recognition of humor, the other mimicking a gesture she’d learned from seeing happy people.
“So I take it you’ve always wanted a pet.”
Wanted was a strong word, and certainly not one that Alex would have used. Alex wasn’t capable of wanting anybody or anything, let alone knowing how to have feelings for a living being.
But Alex Frost did have an interest in animals. Though more as an outside observer than anything else. When she looked into the eyes of a creature, be they mouse, pig, or household pet, a part of her would always wonder what was going on inside their minds. Were they governed only by instinct, or was there something more underneath? Could something as cold-hearted as a snake feel love? Hate? Fear?
“You’ve grown up since the last time we met,” Aunt Melanie pointed out. “I haven’t had the chance to say it, but you’re very pretty.”
“Thanks,” said Alex. “You look better now too. More mature.”
Aunt Melanie snorted.
“Don’t you mean old?”
“No. Older, but not old. You look better.”
“Better,” Aunt Melanie retorted with guffaw. “The last time we saw each other was at Christmas wasn’t it?”
Alex nodded.
“Wow,” Aunt Melanie hung her pondering head. “Feels so long ago.”
It was more or less five years since last Christmas. And while Aunt Melanie had vague memories of that night, Alex was able to recall every second of it. From what was served in dinner, to the presents that everyone received, and what everyone wore.
“I got you a snow globe,” Aunt Melanie thought aloud.
“You did,” Alex confirmed.
“It was of the north pole, with a gingerbread house inside.”
“Fond memories,” Alex said. And for a while Aunt Melanie agreed, as though the thought of their last Christmas celebration was enough to relive the joy. Though not long afterwards, the later events of that very night unraveled also, and she was recalling other memories not so fond. Specifically, the conversation that led to her isolation from Alex’s mother.
Alex knew the second the dour expression formed around her face what Aunt Melanie was thinking about. It was not a place she wanted her mind to be, so Alex took it upon herself to change the conversation.
“I just remembered,” Alex said after swallowing a bite from her vegetarian combo. “I have to go to school tomorrow, so I was wondering if you could drop me off.”
“You sure you don’t want to take the rest of the week off?”
At Elsinore, such a suggestion was the equivalent of heresy. A mere one unexcused absence was punishable by detention. And she was sure to receive just that come next morning for today’s absence. The consequence of missing an entire week was something that Alex wanted no part of.
“I’m sure.”
“It’s just that, you haven’t really had the time to grieve and to gather yourself.”
“I don’t need to,” Alex said, and she brought her jaw towards the triangular food in her hand for a second bite. “School helps me get my mind off things,” she said. But Aunt Melanie clearly didn’t understand how that could be so.
“I’m not going to tell you how you should feel about this, or what you should do. But what I am going to say is that this isn’t something that you can simply get your mind off of. You’re going to have to face what you’re going through. Distracting yourself isn’t going to work.”
The sixteen year old put the pizza down.
“You don’t understand,” Alex said. “I have to go to school.”
“But why?”
And at that, Alex surprisingly found herself stumped for an answer.
“I just do,” she said.
Aunt Melanie didn’t quite understand, but she conceded the point.
“You know, you’re absolutely right. You should deal in whatever way you feel is best. If you want to go to school, I’ll take you there tomorrow. Even though I would much prefer it if you stayed here.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.”
That night when Alex went to sleep on Aunt Melanie’s sofa-bed, she thought again about the death of her parents. But her mind wasn’t so much on mom and dad as it was on Lord Combermere, the man that killed them.
Why did he do it?
Their deaths flashed onto the surface of her mind. Alex couldn’t so much as close her eyes without thinking of all the slashes on their body, all that blood. The first time she’d seen someone dead, and it happened to be the two closest people she knew.
The more she consumed herself with the images invading her, the more she was taken in with a strang
e, unexplainable sensation. Something she couldn’t possibly understand because she’d never experienced it before. It was like a rush of adrenaline, only much more potent.
Her heartbeat raced, her body temperature rose. Beads of sweat escaped from the pores of her skin, and she had to take short, quick breaths of air to calm herself down.
What is happening to me?
Alex’s temperature climbed higher and higher until she was dead certain she had a dangerous fever. But Alex had had fevers before. And this was nothing like it. One moment her skin was burning, and another, it was ice cold. She was disoriented. Every move of her aching head weighed at least a ton. As seconds passed, it only grew.
Alex screamed voraciously. She couldn’t stop herself. The pain, pain she’d never felt before, was killing her. She screamed until her voice turned sore, and there was nothing coming out of her lips but air.
That was when something began to tug on her shoulders. It was Aunt Melanie, and she was scared half to death.
“Alex!” Aunt Melanie shook the girl awake.
Alex’s eyes opened, and the pain was gone. She was drenched in her own sweat, and her temperature was still high. But the pain was gone.
“Everything’s alright.”
Alex threw herself to her Aunt Melanie, hyperventilating desperately.
“It’s okay,” Aunt Melanie stroked Alex’s hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Eventually the girl with no soul calmed, and she asked herself the very same question that came from Aunt Melanie’s lips only shortly after.
“What happened?”
Alex Frost Meets The Killer Page 5
