I Care {Darkiplier}

(Chapter 23)

You stand up, as it has been a couple of minutes since the conversation winded down to a close. You take a moment and go outside, letting your friend know before wandering off. You did this to get some time to yourself once more, you need to think about this.

You open the wide wooden doors, having a bit of issue with how huge and aged it is, and step out, and sit down on the steps that lead up to the front door. You take a moment to appreciate the sky above, as the moon twinkles through the pitch black, the rays of it peering out between the winding branches of trees that littered around. With a lack of pollution, as the home was secluded within the forestry area, it was clear out. There wasn't really a storm brewing, nor a cloud in sight. You were finally able to see the stars.

You trail your gaze over the mini balls of gases in the sky, that are splattered around like on a canvas. After a few moments, you look back down at the fractures in the concrete. It was time to make your choice.

This was most likely, the only time you may have the opportunity to be here...You will have to inevitably leave back to the hotel...Then...Home.

You never really thought about that...Did you? 

...

You would have to leave.

But it's not over yet...You still have all the time in the world...

...Right?

You shake your head as if to organize your flurry of thoughts. You should not be fussing over such things now, you do have time. You just need to go through with a decision. You inhale deeply, letting the air rush into your lungs, and hold it for some short seconds, before breathing out... You look to your hands that are cradling the flashlight that is off.

You should probably check the place out.

You can do this...Hell, you have to.

Besides...

What else can you truly do?

After brainstorming, and making your choice, it was time to go back in and face those damn stairs and that room.

You shift to open the door with your arm, having to push yourself against it a bit to pry the thing open, but once you do, you already have your destination in mind. You let your friend know of your presence, giving them a quick greeting, then head to the dining room.

Across from the round table, is the stairs...With a sharp intake of air, you stare the room down. Your skin prickles with goosebumps.

Just one step...Just one step...come on, pull yourself together.

You could do this. You would be wasting your time otherwise if you didn't. You slip past the chairs and table in the mini dining hall and step into the room.

Your flashlight was switched back on by now, so you could see everything more clearly. As you look around, constantly turning and shifting your movements, looking around yourself constantly, in case there was...anything around, you notice, a doorway to another part of the house. You amble over to it. As you glance around the sizable room, it looks like another living room...but something catches your eye.

The cones that once stood up, the caution tape, the trace of a body on the hardwood floor, are scattered. The cone is rotten, on its side, a fair bit away from where it once was supposed to lie. The police tape was torn, and crumpled to a heap in different parts of the room, scattered around without any care. The once white tape was now a dark grey, and most of it was ripped away from the ground, you could barely tell it was supposed to be in the shape of the man who died. Hell, it is difficult enough to see the tape itself, because of how darkened in color it is.

As it clicks together in your brain, your eyes widen, it feels quite similar to when you discovered that tattered photo. This was where he was found dead, this was...the same room where the Jims were. You could hardly believe after all this time...Everything was left, nearly, how it was...

You step further into the room, spinning yourself in a circle, curious to see if there was anything more. There was that poker table resting in the corner of the room, but there wasn't anything eye-catching. Still, seeing the setup of the crime scene, rotting away to the sands of time, is quite the experience.

The more you stayed in the room you were in, you felt a growing sense of unease. It's grim to think about the implications of everything. Nobody cleaned up the crime scene...At least never entirely. The usual twist in your gut only got knotted further. You release a deep breath that shakes. As if everything beforehand, with all the context, wasn't fucked up enough.

Without a second thought, feeling too disturbed to continue, you escape it. You nearly trip over your feet as you skip past the chairs and table, showing some care to make sure you don't break anything. You turn your form towards the kitchen room, forcing yourself to ignore the statue's glare.

I can't deal with this. Why. Why was- Why the fuck was the room- the room-

You fold over the countertop, holding your head in your hands, unsure how to process anything anymore.

Why the hell was there still a crime scene?

...

You stare down at the mucky marble counter below your eyesight. You are trying to keep your breath even, trying not to spiral into panic. Seeing the remnants of it, just left behind, is indescribable. It was terrifying, intriguing, and helped you gain a better picture of what was left...but it made you wonder.

What else was forgotten behind?