The Killer Among Us

Chapter 39

Four days left

Jacob

In my inmost heart I felt as if there was a nagging question, a detail left unexplored, that no one dared to ask. Could he, instead of lurking in the dark like a treacherous monster, appear like a normal man? Could the killer be among us?

My scrutiny plummeted into unthinkable depths. The Solemn Serpent was someone's brother, a broken soul like most of us and yet something along his way made him turn into the monster he was. I obsessed over what it could have been that changed the course of his life, fearing that it might derail my life as well.

Maybe Tate had the answers that I needed.

As I strode confidently through the office building, he worked at, I tried calming the storm of anger in me. I needed to play this smart in order to use it to my advantage.

With my bruised hand, I knocked on his office door and patiently waited a few seconds.

Then, with a dumbfounded look of surprise on his face, he opened the tinted glass door. Without a word, he stepped to the side, granting me entrance into his office, and closed the door behind me.

"So, I assume you still remember me?" I threw into the room, immediately asserting dominance.

Tate fidgeted in his office chair, which seemed too big for his fragile body. He gestured for me to sit down but I stood tall before him, wanting him to sense that I was ready to take him out at any given moment.

When I didn't move, he nodded slowly. "Yes, I remember you. Jacob, right?"

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and scoffed as I said, "Let's not fuck around. Tate, I know what you did-"

He opened his mouth in protest, but I held up my hand to silence him.

"I know exactly what you did, Tate. And I need to know why," my words came out a little louder than I expected but they seemed to have an effect on Tate, whose face turned a light shade of red, sweat already forming on his forehead.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I -"

"Ian Brooks," I exclaimed, letting the name linger in the air.

Tate's face scrunched up in confusion, "I - I don't understand," he let out a stifled sigh," This is about Ian?"

Tired of playing games; and frankly too exhausted for this, I pulled out my gun from my waistband and pointed it at him threateningly.

"I am not here to play games, Tate," I spat at him, meaning every single word.

He held his hands in front of him defensively, wincing at the fury in my voice. "What do you want? I'll tell you anything," he cried out pathetically.

A flicker of sympathy loomed in my heart at the sight of him. The tension in the room was unbearable and the thought that someone could enter the room at any moment fastened my heartbeat. The sweet pump of adrenaline rushed through me, making me feel powerful.

With a heavy sigh, I asked him, "How do you know him?"

His green eyes met mine desperately and I lowered my gun slightly. "He- he is my friend."

I walked around his modern office desk, leaning down slightly to look into his eyes, "He is not your friend, Tate."

He squinted his eyes, his mouth hung open slightly, as he asked with a shaky voice, "What do you mean?"

That was when I realised that Tate had no idea what he had done. The coward of a man that crumbled before me couldn't be capable of hurting a soul, let alone unleash a monster like The Solemn Serpent. At least not willingly.