"Oh. This is absolutely brutal."
"What do we have, Jim?"
Jim, who was hunched over one of the five bodies in his coroners jacket. Tilted his head, and with tired eyes he gazed back at the man who spoke to him. Then his head shook, and he stood up straight and backed away.
"What are you doing here, already?"
The man gave Jim an offended look, and he straightend his suit at the neck, as if in gesture to tell Jim to piss off.
"Well, when you all spend six hours, calling something strange, and then come away with brutal. It catches outside attention, and that's where I step in. Now, we've been over this before, Jim. So, what do we have here?"
"At first.. We assume that it's an animal attack. The claw marks, and the severity, between each close gash. But then, it gets more strange with the last two vics. This one, and a girl inside."
"Oh yeah? Why's that, Jim?"
"Because, Eric. The last two victims were done in with blunt force instruments."
"So, let me get this straight. Either an animal attacks the first group, and then someone comes along with a baseball bat, and starts crackin' skulls."
"Or, someone beasts out, rips a bunch of people to shreads, and then caves in their heads."
"This just takes jealous boyfriend to a whole new level."
Jims eye twitched with an obvious sense of disgust. Then they narrow, and he point his finger at Eric.
"Have some respect for the dead."
"Yeah, I'll hop right on that."
Eric replied, throwing a dying cigarette at Jims heel.
"Tell your boys, I want every detail on my desk, first thing tomorrow morning. And if you don't have it to me by then, heads will roll."
And Jim watched as Eric left, and he muttered incoherently while he began to turn his attention back to the victim. And then, later that evening.
"I know I can be a hard ass with your brother. I'll apologize another day. You have to understand though, this is stressful. It's wearing everybody down. This is the third mass murder, same style and everything. And I bet we still don't find anything to go on."
"And I can understand that Eric, but you can't just treat Jim like crap everytime you talk to him, and I won't let you use the stress as an excuse anymore either."
"Alright, alright. I'll apologize to Jim when he comes to my office tomorrow. I love you Ari."
Ari listened to Eric, and for a moment the silence between them that was only replaced by the sound of their breathing.
"Yeah, well prove it. I'll talk to you, when you fix these things with my brother."
And with that, Ari had hung up, leaving Eric staring at the phone, before he pressed End Call.
"She doesn't love you, mate."
This voice nearly sent Eric from his own skin, and he drew the pistol from his hip, and instantly placed it above his wrist staring at the man who spoke from the corner.
"What are you doing in my home!? Answer me!"
Eric prodded, as the man who had spoken to him lifted a precious belonging from above the mantel. And he held it between his hands, staring at the reflection of two off-colored eyes. Which Eric could see from over the mans shoulder.
"I'm looking at your rather interesting valuables. It looks expensive."
Eric adjusted his thumb, and readied the pistol to fire, before he stood up and put the gun closer to the mans head.
"Who are you, and how did you get into my home!?"
"My name is King. And why concern yourself with these things? After all, you've made it too easy."
"That's it, I have warned you more than enough."
Eric said, then he fired a single shot into the mans head, from close range. But, his eyes widen, and he backed away seeing the large hole as it ooze black above red. And the man traced the hole with his finger tip.
"This is no way to treat someone who has come to help you, boy."
And with the coaxing of his finger tip the bullet seaped with the blood from inside the hole, and fell to the floor, while the skin closed up tightly. Causing Eric to back further away from King, and he stood to his feet, moving as fast as he could to the other room so he could baracade himself inside. Covering the doorway with anything he could from the dresser, to the bed.
"Just go away, I don't want any trouble."
"Trust me, Eric. I'm here to help you. You don't need to be so rediculous."
"Go away, I said!"
And when King did not respond, Eric began to feel a sense of comfort. Had he left? Was that all it took? Then the comfort turned to an illness at the pit of his stomach, and he could hear glass rattling from behind him. And he could see the mirror as it began to crack, and the crows fluttered through. Then the heavy heels touched against the floor and he watched as King came from inside the mirror, a toothpick dripping with strange oils hanging from between his teeth, while Eric looked upon him, stunned and incapable of moving. And King took the toothpick from his teeth, in order to speak.
"Do I have your attention now?"
Eric, now a man without fight left, nodded his head. And King looked upon him, with a proud smile, having been the one to break him.
"Good. You and I, we share a problem. And I want to help you, make this problem go away. All you have to do, is just say yes."
Eric muttered beneath his breath. And King grinned placing his hand against Eric's shoulder. Now seeing him as being obediant.
"Good boy, Eric. Good boy."
The things which you would say to a pet. Could it be? Had King put a leash around Eric's neck? Or was it something worse, like the noose? The beginning of the end?