by David Scott
Dan thought how pretty she would look if she were in a more presentable condition, and unsullied by some bloody rage; not glamourous like a model, but the classic ‘girl next door’ look. Not that she was his type, of course, but the mind immediately identifies and appreciates beauty, even in moments of tragedy and crisis.
“Help me! Please! You have to help me!” The girl shrieked, her voice quivering violently, “I think they are all dead! All of them. Dead.”
Her voice trailed off, and she broke down in a fit of emotion. She was sobbing uncontrollably and struggling to breath. The shock of what had happened was beginning to sink in. Dan knew he needed to get her to calm down.
“What’s your name, honey?” Dan asked, gentle in his questioning, as though speaking to a lost child.
“Molly.” She said, quietly.
“Look, Molly, I want you to sit in the car with Agent Harrison, while I go into the house to check to see what has happened. Ok, Molly?”
Molly nodded. Dan turned to Luke, whose face was framed perfectly in the glare of the headlights, beautifully illuminated from behind like some celestial being. An anxious looking and concerned god.
“Dan, you can’t go in there alone. It might not be safe. We don’t know that the killer is dead. We know nothing.” Luke said, almost pleadingly, in a hushed tone so that Molly wouldn’t hear him.
“Luke, Molly told dispatch that she took down the intruder with a shot gun. That she fired, until he didn’t move. No one could survive multiple, close-range shot gun rounds. No one. Don’t worry, I will be fine. But I am worried about Molly. You need to keep her talking and look after her, while we wait for the local services to arrive. They will be here soon.”
Molly could hear everything. Her pain seemed to be changing, and turning in to anger.
“He’s dead alright. I left him in the main room, by the fire, and just ran. I had to get away. I couldn’t stay in that house.”
“Thanks Molly,” Dan said, “Now, please jump into the car. We need to keep you warm. Agent Harrison, could you join her?”
“Dan, I really think that I should go in there with you.” Luke urged, his raw emotion coming to the surface, no longer caring about rank or position, his only concern being for Dan.
“I’ll be fine Agent Harrison. You wait here for back up with Molly.”
“But I …”
“Agent Harrison, that is a direct order.”
Dan hated to pull rank on Luke, but Molly was listening and he had to maintain an air of officialdom between them. He also did not have time to argue the point with Luke.
Of course, he would have preferred Luke to join him but Molly could not be left alone. Dan was also not prepared to put Luke in danger. He was about to confront a demon. Even if dead, there could be residual risks or scenes so shocking that Luke could be scarred for life from seeing them. Dan’s urge to protect Luke was overwhelming now; intuitively, he knew that this was the right thing to do.
Luke put his arm around Molly to steady and support her, as he helped her into the back of the car. Dan watched as Luke got in beside Molly, and wrapped a blanket around her. He gave Luke a wistful, almost sad, smile, and a nod. He then turned and ran as fast as he could towards the house.
As Dan approached the house, he could not help but notice its threatening aspect. It was the stuff of nightmares. The lights were on in the bedrooms, and the two windows glowed yellow like cats’ eyes, watching and daring him to approach. The large, red door was wide open and protruded from the structure, tongue-like, ready to lick and swallow him whole.
Dan steeled himself, as he jumped up the two steps at the main entrance. He did not hesitate, there could be survivors in need of help. As Dan entered, in the dim lighting, he did not see the body lying sprawled on the floor blocking the way forward. He fell heavily over it, and felt a familiar twinge in his lower back. He could not afford to seize up now. There was a wetness on his knees, and Dan wondered if he had somehow injured himself worse than he had thought. Looking down, he saw that he was kneeling in a pool of blood and it was seeping through his trousers, leaving stains that would never come out.
Dan got up quickly, embarrassed and relieved that Luke was not there with him to see this. The young man was lying on his back, with his head turned to the side, one arm outstretched. A large deep red circle was in the centre of the body; it was clearly the result of a violent attack. Dan felt for a pulse by pressing his middle and fore fingers on the soft flesh of the man’s neck. Nothing. He was dead.
Dan felt incredibly sad. This young man had his whole life before him but now every hope and dream had been snuffed out. It was too soon for him. Dan pushed these thoughts out of his mind. He had to focus and press on. Remorse would have to wait.
The passageway offered two choices. A closed door, leading to the downstairs rooms. Or a flight of stairs leading steeply up into darkness. Molly had said the killer was in the main living room, so Dan moved towards the door. He paused for a moment. Should he open it quickly and charge in or try to creep in without being heard. Dan tried to remember what he was taught in training but that was a long time ago and, anyway, did not extend to situations such as this.
Dan breathed in deeply through his nose, recalling that this is supposed to help you to calm down. His heart was pounding fast and loud. Facing the tall door, he took hold of the steel handle. A final shiver ran down his spine. His hairs bristled. And then he burst in.
“FBI. Don’t move!”
Dan’s voice filled the room, which was glowing oranges and reds, with shadows from the fierce fire dancing on the white walls. The torched wood crackled, as though laughing at him. Otherwise, the room was ominously silent and still.
Dan looked quickly around in all directions. Gun drawn, arms outstretched in a taught triangle shape, and pointed forward.
The room was a large open plan area, L-shaped, with a feature fireplace, surrounded by a mishmash of sofas and seats. It had an area coming off it, around the corner, which Dan could not see into, as the light from the fire did not extend that far.
In front of the large mantlepiece, which was struggling to restrain the roaring fire, burning so strongly and trying to escape, was an elongated figure. Draped in black, head and body faced down on the furry rug, arms and legs stretching out. There was no sound or movement whatsoever. No cries for help. No heaving chest struggling for breath. No limbs beckoning for support. Nothing.
Dan moved slowly forward. He aimed his gun at the body, ready for any reanimation. He gently tapped it with his foot.
“Hello. Can you hear me? Hello! FBI.”
There was no movement or response. Dan knelt down beside the corpse. He immediately noticed how tall this man was, and how the blackness of his long raincoat was only matched by the unnatural pitch black of his bristly hair. Every other feature was cloaked.
Dan felt again for a pulse. The skin felt incredibly cold, even though it was in front of the fire. It was also firm and rigid. Dan was no scientist, and knew little about the effects of death on the body, but there was no sign of life that he could discern. All clear. He had to see if there were any survivors.
Looking around, he saw a light switch, and turned it on. He looked towards the hidden corner area and could see two legs sticking out. Dan moved quickly.
Another two bodies; identical-looking teenagers with blond spikey hair. Their heads were resting against one another, temples touching and conjoined, eyes closed. There was no blood that he could see but they were clearly dead.
Sitting at the head of a dining table was an older boy, head slumped down, arms resting on the table. Dan gently lifted his chin, to see his face; a bullet hole marked the boy’s forehead, exiting through the back of his skull. The blood dripped from the wound, running red rivers down the front of his canary-yellow tank top, embellishing it to create some kind of deathly bespoke fashion.
Dan moved through another door, and into the kitchen. The back door was open and beating gently back and f
orth against the wall, blowing in the gentle night breeze; like a distant warning drum. There was a strong cleaning smell, like some sort of disinfectant.
Four bodies were heaped on top of one another against the back of the kitchen, propped up by the cheap, laminate units. It could almost be a drinking game; a pile-on top of each other, or a drunken dare. Arms and legs spread out everywhere like some sort of hybrid squid, having pumped out the last of its red ink, squirting splatters of blood all around the tiled floor and bleach-sprayed surfaces in a vain, last defence against an unstoppable predator.
A large, square chest freezer stood sternly against the side wall, humming a gentle electric lullaby to preserve its frozen contents’ deep sleep. Dan braced himself, having seen too many scary movies, and certain this would have someone locked inside, but the lid opened readily and revealed only various meat products, all with yellow stickers showing they had been reduced in price for a quick sale.
Dan closed the back door, to stop the constant banging, which kept giving him a fright every time it made contact, as he was so focused on his search. Outside would have to wait, he needed to check upstairs first. Dan moved back towards the main room.
“Dan, you ok?” Luke asked urgently.
Dan jumped with shock, and let out a loud gasp.
“Geez, Luke, you gave me such a fright! Shouldn’t you be in the car with Molly?”
“No, it’s fine Dan. The local sheriff has arrived and is with her now. The paramedics should get here in the next ten minutes or so. And a forensics team is about 20 minutes out.”
Luke scanned around the room, his eyes settling on the body in front of the fire, which could be seen clearly now the lights were on.
“So, this is our guy, Pulcinella, eh? He sure is tall.”
“Yes, I think so. He is exactly where Molly said that he would be. I’ve checked for a pulse, and there was nothing. She did well.”
Luke moved forward towards Pulcinella.
“I want to see what this maniac looks like. Can I turn him over?”
“Sure. I haven’t had a chance yet. There are so many bodies, Luke. They are all so young. Listen, I haven’t been upstairs yet, so I better get on and check out the area. We also need to look outside, as the back door was open and it could be that others managed to escape. You’ve got your gloves on, right? We’ve got to be careful not to contaminate any evidence.”
“Yes, Dan, already on.” Luke said, wriggling his latex-covered fingers, to prove it.
Dan walked towards Luke and they crossed paths in the middle of the room, looking at one another as they did so; an intense look of relief. This horror story was now over.
Dan wanted to stay with Luke but he needed to concentrate, and make sure that there was no one left alive.
Luke stared at the body in the glow of the fire. The long, black coat was thigh length and there were what looked like black trousers beneath it. There were no shoes and the feet looked black; in the moment, Luke thought they must be covered in soot or dirt.
“Well you certainly dress like a creepy executioner.” Luke said aloud, talking to himself to stave off any fear and to break the silence, “Now let’s see what you look like.”
Luke rolled the body over. It was extremely heavy, and took all of his might. Luke recoiled in shock. It was his turn for a fright this time.
Instead of a face, Luke saw a leather mask. Its main feature was a razor-sharp hooked beak-like nose. It reminded Luke of the old plague-masks used by doctors of the time. It seemed hand sown, with thick cream stitching visible at the edges, almost like an old-fashioned baseball catcher’s glove.
From beneath the mask, there was nothing but dark shadows. The killer’s eyes were closed, and the eyelids were painted black. His face and neck were also covered in some sort of black paint or covering. A terrifying visage. A vicious raven.
Luke looked back down the body, to see it in its full form, head and all. What a sight to behold. And then it suddenly dawned on Luke. There was no blood. If Molly had shot him several times, where was the blood? He turned to look back at Pulcinella’s face, and froze. Two glowing red eyes were watching him. Luke immediately shouted as loud as he could, “Dan!”
Pulcinella moved quietly but forcefully, grasping Luke by the throat to stop any further call for help. His throat was constricted in a vice-like grip. It tightened quickly.
Luke knew he had no time to think and had to act, or his throat would be crushed. He reached for his electric taser, and pressed it into Pulcinella’s face.
The strong voltage was enough to shock Pulcinella into releasing Luke. Only a second of inaction but enough for Luke to move away quickly, scrambling along the floor towards the door.
Pulcinella stood up. Its tall, slender figure reaching up close to the ceiling, coat flailing, encouraged by the fiery air behind it. Still and silent, staring at Luke.
“Luke, what is it? Are you ok?” Dan shouted, approaching the room.
Dan fell quiet, as he stood in the doorway, with the masked monster directly in front of him.
Pulcinella raised its knuckles in their direction, intent on shooting them with its hidden guns. There was a grinding noise, a whirring, but nothing happened. The weapons were jammed and inoperable. Molly’s shots had caused some damage to Pulcinella’s systems. It momentarily paused. Recalibrating. Slower.
Suddenly, it charged at Dan, a long steel knife extended from its fingers. Dan stood frozen to the spot, with no time left to react.
“No!” Luke shouted out.
There was a blur of movement.
Luke’s voice refocused Dan’s attention, and he shot Pulcinella in the head. It had no effect, and Pulcinella continued its charge forwards.
Luke could not let this happen. He threw himself between Dan and the robot. The dagger sliced through Luke, as Pulcinella fell forward, its programming pushing for a final kill. They both fell heavily on to the floor.
Dan quickly discharged his gun over and over again in Pulcinella’s face. False flesh fell away, as the camouflaging system faltered, revealing the white plastic beneath.
And then the red lights blinked out for the last time.
“Luke!” Dan called out desperately.
Luke looked pale. Blood was streaming out of his side, as he tried to cover the wound.
“No! No. Luke, hold on. Please.”
Dan took off his jacket and pressed it hard against the wound.
Luke could only manage a whisper, “It’s alright, Dan.”
“Why did you do that, Luke?”
Dan’s voice was quivering with emotion. His eyes started to glaze over with tears. He struggled to breathe, as he stared intently into Luke’s dark eyes.
“Don’t you know, Dan?” Luke said, searching Dan’s eyes and forcing a smile.
He pressed his hands over Dan’s.
Dan said nothing but continued to stare into Luke’s dilating eyes.
He couldn’t believe this. Of course, he had dreamt of this moment but now, just as this wished for revelation was made, it was all going to be taken away from him.
It was too much, any strength dissipated, and his tears flowed freely. Luke suddenly looked calm. Serene. He let out a sigh and his head dropped; the embracing hands slipped away.
“No! Luke! Luke! Please, please don’t leave me. Luke! Stay with me.”
Hearing the shots, the sheriff ran in.
“Jesus! What has happened here?”
“Get an ambulance now!” Dan shouted.
“We already have one on the way, sir. It’s just coming up the road now.”
“Go and get the medics, please. Bring them straight here. Now! Please!”
The sheriff saw the wild desperation in Dan’s eyes, and ran off to get help.
Dan turned back to Luke. His arms were numb from applying pressure. His muscles screamed out in pain. He would not let go.
“Luke! Luke!” Dan cried out, “I’m not ready to let you go. Do you hear me? Please don’t die. Hold
on.”
Dan moved closer and leant his forehead gently against Luke’s.
“I need you, Luke. I don’t think I can go on without you. I should have said something. Should have told you sooner. I love you, Luke. I love you.” Dan said, in a gentle whisper, voice shaking, as his tears flowed freely.
Time stood still as a toxic cocktail of emotion flooded Dan’s mind. He felt immense pain at seeing Luke’s unmoving body but guilt also added its bitter flavour. Dan was to blame for this. He should never have let Luke stay involved. Dan had compromised himself and his duty; worse he had allowed his selfish gene to take command, and now Luke was dying in his arms, and there was nothing that he could do about it. Overwhelming grief mixed with self-admonishment. Tears ploughed down Dan’s dry skin, as his whole body shook uncontrollably with emotion.
Strong arms tried to force Dan away. He clung-on with all of his might but was overpowered. Luke was torn from him, put on a stretcher, and rushed off.
Dan sat still only for a moment, numb and in shock. But a stronger power quickly took control of him. He jumped up and ran after Luke. He had to be with him no matter what. It could not end like this.
THIRTEEN
The live streaming video ended abruptly, following the clash of Dan’s bullet strikes, in a storm of blacks and greys, frazzling the screen. Dominic had watched it all happen through the camera lenses in Pulcinella’s eyes. Powerless to assist his creation, he could do nothing other than shout at the screen and will it on to succeed. To kill the agents. At least it had put up a gallant fight, and seemingly claimed one last victim.
Dominic knew that the sacrifice was for the greater good but he had hoped that Pulcinella would not be defeated; that it would somehow fight on for years to come like a legendary titan. After all, it was his first and favourite creation, and like mothers sending their sons to war he could do nothing but believe it would return to him unharmed.
