Hostel M2

M2-Part XIX

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Back at the Parker's, even more bewilderment seemed to linger as Mr. Parker and his two students had assembled in his large study for the past hour or more trying to get a solid lead on their present situation. Mr. Parker definitely had a hunch on the dead coming back and it was very evident in the kind of books that lined the shelves of his personal library.

Henry plopped in the chair with the printed article of The Hostel M2 Murder from the school's e-newspaper. He had gone through the write-up a couple of times already, almost to the point where he could narrate the whole incident as though he had witnessed it firsthand. According to the article, Mr. Jones' death had occurred on the first week of the session while freshmen had their welcome party.  It had been reported that he had assaulted one of the students after being accused of theft from one of the rooms and in an attempt to flee, had fallen off a window. This was affirmed by a witness who was a staff at the hostel and according to the school authorities; the case would receive a closer look.

"How is this supposed to help?" Chris asked no one in particular as he threw the printed material into the air, "this dude got no background whatever, there's no name for the witness mentioned here. We sure do need more information about what really happened if we're going to find any link like Marcello says."

"The only person who would've known more about this is dead," Henry answered, "the article was edited by Edward Alvino."

"Think that's why old man killed him?" Chris blurted with a scoff and then realized something. "Wait! That's it! The link."

Mr. Parker closed the hardback book he was flipping through, "what did you just say?"

"Mr. Edward certainly must've known the whole story about the murder, right?" Chris started with so much vigor in his voice, "what if he hadn't said the whole truth in that article and dead guy just made him pay for it."

"There's some sense to that," Professor Parker said, dropping the book, "but there isn't any sound proof for that premise."

"Chris might be right," Henry muttered, breaking the moment of silence in the room. He rose almost at the same instance to the large transparent board and scribbled out the name: Mr. Edward. "That night at the library, Mr. Edward had talked about some drunk kids who had caused his death but that wasn't even stated in the article."

"He'd said strange things have been happening at M2 since then," Chris added.

Mr. Parker remained silent while he perched at the edge of the table and took off his glasses, he had that facial expression he wore when pondering on things.

"Well, there have been a lot of happenings in the school quite alright, but pointing one would be quite a task, especially when Professor Wells always tries to keep every stain off his reputation," Mr. Parker finally said. "He already warned to stay away."

"So let's get this," Henry started again, facing the board, "there are basically three parties here which we're aware of; Mr. Edward, a witness and then the unnamed assaulted student." He took a step back away from the board where he had written out all three parties involved.

"This is going to be harder than solving the boggling maze," Chris said, standing behind his friend at the board.

"You're right, it's like ticking off names from a death row," Henry said, "and we can't tell who's next."

"I'd make a few calls, see what I can get." Mr. Parker left the table and walked towards the board where the others were, his mind pondering over a lot of questions the discovery had raised. It was clear this was some sort of personal feud between the nether realm and the physical world but how this concerned him or his students was a more baffling question.

Sleep was far from Henry's mind that night. It might've been fear that kept him awake, fear of the unseen, of what might happen when everyone let down their guard, or maybe it was worry over how his life had played out to be and what the future had in store-or it could've just been Chris' light snore. By the time the clock struck 3:00 a.m., his eyes had hardly grown weary unlike Chris who had fallen asleep a few minutes after they got dismissed from Mr. Parker's study. For the past few weeks, he had lived like more like a fugitive on the run, seeking to survive another day. At first, he had been the only victim but somehow, like a plague, it had eaten into the lives of others too and this was enough trouble for him already.

He shook his head when Chris grunted and then rolled to his sides before he got off the bed where he had laid for the past few hours, deprived of sleep and filled with the thought of how nobody was safe.

The apartment was utterly quiet by the time he reached the staircase, the lights were out in the living room and only a dim bulb lit the hallway. The cold winter air could be felt as he walked into the kitchen. Someone must've forgotten to turn off the lights in there. He turned on the coffee maker and then waited at the majolica-tiled top table while the machine did its thing.

The lights from the living room came on, and then went off again. Henry's eyebrow creased as he wondered if it was just him. He started in the direction of the kitchen's exit, ignoring the almost boiling coffee he had been making.

He pushed open the door to the kitchen, peering at the living room from where he stood, putting aside the bump sound which he had just heard. He hadn't heard any doors from upstairs open, or any sound of footsteps in the apartment. The living room still was dark and he had dismissed the lights he had seen as just mere imaginations, until the bump sound came again, then again, at irregular intervals of a few seconds.

Curious, Henry walked over to the living room, it was dark and creepy and it caused his footsteps to become unsteady. He peered into the darkness unable to make out anything while his ear listened closely and there it came again, the resounding thuds. Mustering all the courage he could, Henry reached for the switch and flicked it on. His breath hitched and his heart pounded against his chest when the light came on too brightly, blowing up at once, shattering the bulb and leaving just its glowing red filament.

In the flash of things, his eyes caught something, like a shadow which sped towards him then disappeared with the light and he backed off one step from the room as his feet began to fail him. There was a sort of burst of trembling that shot across his shock-stricken body before he walked into the living room, following the sound which had started again.

There was a figure close to the open window which kept banging on the window frame as the winter breeze swayed outside. The figure stood on all four, in a still form and Henry's frantic mind tried to make out what his eyes beheld. As much as he wanted to run, he felt somewhat compelled to go further towards the dark figure, his heart throbbing all the while.

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