Hollingwood University

Chapter 34

What was even more terrifying then breaking into the club house on my own? Breaking into the club house when it was sealed off with bright yellow police tape. There were several charges that could be held against me if I was caught: 

I'd receive a fine of over 1500 pounds, that's over $2000 in US cash. I'd probably be thrown in jail, my CV at Hollingwood would be terminated, I would be expelled, my student visa would be revoked, and I'd be sent back to Michigan. There were so many reasons why I shouldn't have been doing this.

Yet, here I was.

I used the key to rip through a piece of paper that was glued onto the door. It stated all the details to bystanders that this house was now a crime scene, and would stay that way until further notice. There was really nothing else to keep me out. I unlocked the door and slid inside before anybody could spot me. 

The inside of the house was different now. The warmth and merry joy that once ran through these walls had vanished and was replaced by a cold chill. It smelled of chemical solutions mixed with the stench of bacon grease scraped off of a frying pan. The walls had been stripped of the paintings and photographs, and the carpets had been rolled up and put into a corner. There was no fire blazing in the hearth, the furniture had thick plastic sheets pulled on top of them, every odd knick knack and shelf decoration had been taken down. There was absolutely no character to the inside of this house, it was completely and utterly lifeless.

I shook away my chills and jogged up the grand staircase. The royal red carpeting had been stripped away and in its place was ragged wooden stairs with splinters poking out. Upstairs was like the hallway of a haunted house; there were only small streams of light dancing across the walls from the half-opened window, and all of the photos had been taken down. It was clear that this place was doomed to be shut down; and the boys would probably have to move into the dormitories. I couldn't imagine them wanting to stay here any longer.

Harry's room was on the left, right next to Ethan's. I jiggled the handle, and it opened without difficulty. Inside, it almost seemed like a typical boy's room; except that the video games were replaced by scholarly books and the leftovers were just take out boxes from a Chinese restaurant. Other than that, his bed was made perfectly; not a crease in sight. Dust seemed to be a none existent thing in this place. I opened his drawers, where everything was folded nice and neat; the articles in his closet were arranged by color. This guy had a serious case of OCD.

I started in the closet, because where else would a sociopathic murderer with an ego bigger than Kanye West hide his trophy from his kill? I sifted through his clothes, in his drawers, I even felt around the walls in case he had a secret opening cut into the wall. Nothing was here.

Afterwards, I searched through the dressers; but all I found were shirts and sweaters that were worth more money than my pay check. So, I opted for under and around the bed. But this guy was careful, almost too careful.

The one thing that I did note was the familiar smell of bleach... a lot of bleach. Maybe Harry tricked Sami into coming to his room, where he proceeded to butcher her like a Christmas ham. Afterwards, he probably moved her into Ethan's room, who was too drunk to wake up from his sleep. When he was done, he would've had to clean up the blood off the floor and out of the carpeting. The CSIs had to have checked Ethan's room for blood splatter, but since Harry wasn't a suspect, they probably didn't check his room. There had to be something here to detect blood.

I went into the bathroom and started going through every bottle. I had to find something with luminol in it; blood reacts to luminous agents and glows in the dark. I couldn't find any, but I did find rubbing alcohol. I learned how to make luminol in my chem class last year; and even though the process is a bit broken now, I still knew the basics.

I found a bottle of drain cleaner and mixed the two in a bottle until I had phthalic anhydrid -- an organic compound. I found a few other materials I could use, and when I was done, I had made my own luminol. I may have gotten a C in chemistry, but some things truly stuck.

I poured some of the luminol around the room, and I shut off the lights with high hopes. But those high hopes were suddenly chopped to little pieces and burned into ashes, because there were no traces of blood.

That was impossible. Harry had to have done it; he had the right motives... or did he? Sure, he didn't like Sami very much, I don't think he liked anybody at all. But it was me who he truly hated, so  why did he go after Sami?

Maybe Harry had nothing to do with it?

Suddenly, I heard a loud thud downstairs. Somebody else was in this house, "Who's in here?" a loud voice boomed. It sounded like the same cop who tried to stop me from coming inside. I had to get out of here, or I would really be screwed.

My only viable way out was the window. I opened the pane and looked outside, I was too high up to jump without breaking a few bones; but there was a water drain that ran up next to me. I carefully slipped outside, just as I heard heavy boots stomp upstairs. I balanced myself on the window sill and grabbed onto the pipe. I had to say a little prayer that I wouldn't look down. With my stomach in my throat, I jumped onto the drain, and I began to slide down like a little kid on a pole. I hit the ground and hid under a bush just in time as the cop stuck his head out the window. He looked around and down below, but he didn't see me. He chewed on his lip and he went back inside. I took that opportunity and ran as fast as my skinny legs could carry me, with only one thought on my mind.

I'm out of ideas.