Charlotte Gaspel: Demons and Ghosts

XXVI: Bust Your Kneecaps

The end of the road is near. The sweater had dried completely. The rain finally stopped and Charlotte was looking in the mirror at her new crimson appearance.

Moments before, her hands were digging through Danny's guts for a metal triangle on a string. She narrowed his eyes for reassurance that he wasn't watching her stoop so low. It was very unsettling, but it felt better to mess with his insides like this.

The gloves she wore were too big on her and that made it difficult to touch, but she managed to find her amulet. The string it was connected to had not been disintegrated by the stomach acid, which was good news, but all the same, everything needed to be thoroughly disinfected.

She laid her ex-friend's body on top of her ex-guardian's in the back garden to wrap them in a very red fire to turn them to ashes. She sat contemplating the bonfire, thinking about what she would do after she accomplished her task, but the future only looked dark.

Fortunately, she wouldn't be alone at that moment, because the door was ringing again, and they were not pleasant visitors. They are never pleasant visitors. Allard and Vane arrived and secured all the exits through the front of the house, ready to break down the door if necessary. Charlotte went to the window to see who they were, and didn't panic when she found out; on the contrary, she went to the door to listen to them talk.

"Don't you think he will kill us as soon as he opens the door?" Allard asked.

"Nah," Vane answered without concern, "he's not like that. He only kills snitches and those who bother him, and he doesn't even need to open the door to do it."

"Well, he doesn't answer. It needs to be taken down."

"Calm down. He'll see us. It's not so bad when you know him."

"I know you've lived here and have the experience, but I'm an honors graduate officer, and in Spoirtown we deal with situations like this all the time. If the suspect doesn't respond in thirty seconds, we must force entry before he escapes."

"Look, just give me one more minute, okay? I don't want to get in trouble with him."

There's another knock on the door, making it clear it's the police. Charlotte continues to listen.

"He shows no sign of him being home. We should investigate the property," Allard says.

"Okay. Step back, miss," he warns as he prepares to kick in the door.

A dozen kicks were enough to break the lock. When they entered, all the lights were off, but they clearly saw all the blood scattered on the floor and stairs. The trail led to the back, where the garden was. Following the marks, little by little they discovered the origin of the strange smoke that could be seen from the other block.

There was not much left on the earth and mud, only two skeletons almost turned into ashes.

"Damn," said Allard with disgust.

"It smells awful. Do you think it's some kind of sexual fetish?"

"Of all the theories I could have come up with, that was the least relevant," she said, somewhat annoyed, approaching the remains. "It's still smoking and you can feel the heat. Ledger can't be far away."

"Hey, there's a girl here."

Before Allard could react, Commissioner Tom Vane's head was blown into several pieces. The detective could barely process the event, because she had to turn around to locate Charlotte and point her gun at her before she became the next victim.

She could sight her, but not for long, because all she could see were the girl's lips uttering, "Sleep."

Allard had been knocked unconscious for a long time by a sleep spell. She opened her eyes some time later to realize that she was in the guest room tied to the bed, seeing two wooden rods positioned on either side of her head holding a metal jug above her.