See no evil - The awakening

See evil

It had been three weeks with no murders. Police were thinking the murderer had moved on, or had simply gone into sleeping mode. But after killing 25 women and draining them for their blood, he had stopped. That day Luc was coming back home and with three weeks of a bit of peace of mind I decided to go back to the city and see him.

He was coming home on a late flight arriving in Ezeiza at 11pm. He would get home about 1am so I would wait for him there and we could at least have a glass of wine and spend the night together after six months apart. That was enough at that moment.

I got home around 8pm and went to the shops to get some food in my fridge and some wine for that night. Streets were still quite empty, Buenos Aires at 8pm is normally filled with lights and people on their way to have dinner. Runners who are getting their final miles of their days in. People walking their dogs. Life, Buenos Aires is usually filled with life at that time. But not that day, not those days. There was fear still on everyone's mind and you could see it clearly by the emptiness on the streets.

I had filled my bag with groceries and wine bottles and was walking the 6 blocks that separated the supermarket from my home. I could feel the pressure from the bad on my fingers as I passed it from one hand to the other to alleviate the pain. I saw the strings cutting the circulation on my fingers and every block before crossing the street I placed the bag on the floor to massage them and get the blood flowing back to my fingertips.

I should have taken more bags, but I was not planning on buying so many things. I should have taken more bags...

As I was pushing the huge wooden street door of my apartment the strings from the bag finally couldn't hold it any more and collapsed. Tomatoes rolled down the steps to the streets. I heard the bottles of wine cracking as they fell one on top of another. The only bottle remaining intact was rolling towards the street racing with the tomatoes. I cursed out loud and quickly turned around to run after it when I heard the rolling glass sound stop.

A man in his 50s had stopped it with his foot. He was wearing a navy blue suit and a white shirt without a tie. A brown shoe that looked as if it had just been polished was stepping over my wine. His hair was black and you could see some gray hairs dancing in between the darkness. He picked up the bottle and handed it to me.

— Here you go.

I walked towards him and took the bottle. — Thank you, you saved the last one. – I said while pointing at all the broken glasses on the floor. I smiled and turned around to start picking the remains of those expensive bottles that were only going to be drunk by my apartment's lobby at that point.

— Let me help you. – The man said and started picking glasses.

— No no, please, I can do it, thank you so much. – I said and tried to pick up the glass quickly to show I did not need any help when one piece punctured through the skin of one of my fingers.

— Fuck. – I looked at it and as a stupid natural reaction I pressed the finger to see how much blood was going to come out, it was quite a lot. I don't really know why I need to do that everytime I get hurt. I realize the man is still there in silence so my eyes roll up from my fingers to his face. He is looking at me, I see his deep black eyes fixed in mine. I see something obscure in the way he is looking at me, and everything in my body starts telling me he is dangerous. We are both exactly under the door arc of my house, so I could either get in, but he is still in, or get out. These thoughts happen in just a split second and before I can do anything he speaks.

— It 's you. — He was fast, he was so fast that even before I could speak his hand was already grabbing my wrist. I realized I still had a piece of glass on my other hand so I pointed it at him.