Chapter 17

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Vikkstar pulled up on Ms. Kim's front yard, hat on and gun cocked. He spotted the doors and slammed them open to a stressed Ms. Kim and an exhaustive Mr. Brett. They were both sulking on the counter.

"Ms. and Mr. Carson- how are you guys holding up? Asked Vikk. He tried to show an ounce of sadness, but it just came out of pity. With that, they just stared at him. "Listen, I bet he's just lost, ok? I can assure you he couldn't gone far."

"Our baby- he's gone Vikk. Vanished without a trace. Help, please!" She cried, tears flowing down her eyes.

"I know how you to feel, okay? I'll search the yard, try and find something. It might help." He said, walking to the door.

"And if you don't?" She spoke, turning her back away from Vikk. He nodded, heading outside in the snow, now complete covering the field with a cool crunch every time you step on it.

"Will... come out come out wherever you are!" He whispered, looking the thicket. Cars roared by and passed as birds flew passed as well. As he took his mere time, smoking a cigarette to keep him warm, he spotted something unusual. Footprints leading out onto the woods. Now usually this wouldn't be weird alone, but there was a trail of ash with it. He followed the footprints, sprinting along. It seemed to go on forever, continuing into the wood, covered more and more by shadows. And then it met the road, stopping. There was more evidence of some time of run and go kidnapping, as there were tire marks where the footprints met the street.

He sat and looked at the line of footprints for a bit, and began turning back when he saw a reflection in the snow. Something clear and shiny, with a splash of red. Lenses. Lenses painted with blood on the left end. He saw enough. He started sprinting back to the house, appearing convinced something happened.

"Ms. Carson- does your son have glasses?" He asked, standing in the kitchen.

"Call me Ms. Kim-" She corrected, looking confused.

"Just answer the question. Does he have glasses, Kim." He started to yell, fuming with anxiety. He wished it wasn't the kids, even though all evidence pointed to it.

"Well- well yes actually."

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