Sinister

Chapter 3

I watched carefully as the figure continued to prod the mass of flesh with his foot, and I nearly got the urge to burst into the room and give Henry some tips on keeping things clean and efficient.

I restrained myself, and as I slowly went to back out of the doorway, I heard another noise from downstairs. It seemed as the figure had heard it as well, for as soon as the noise of clutter emanated from the drafty old building, the sound of heavy boots started towards the door.

I had reached quite the dilemma, as going backwards would mean confronting the unknown and going forwards would mean facing Henry head-on. I hesitated for a moment, and just before Henry reached the door, I ducked into another insignificant dusty room.

As I snuck a peek outside of the room that I had escaped to, I saw Henry going down the stairs with a bloodied axe in his hand. I thought to myself, that must have been the explanation for the jumble of human parts in the room that I usually conducted surveillance work in.

For a moment, I almost whined out to Henry, since I had come to the realization that I would probably have to clean it all up. I thought again about teaching Henry how to leave less of a mess, but my senses came back when I heard a voice from downstairs.

"Henry! What are you doin' here, man?" I heard the step pattern of both of the two downstairs calm down a bit, Henrys steps going from menacing to calm and his friend's going from an official-like search to a lazy bound.

I focused on the sounds of their footsteps, easy to hear through the poor ventilation of the building, and as I tried to pinpoint their exact location, I realized that there would be no way to avoid them.

After all, the only reason Henry didn't hear me dip into the room was that of the ruckus his friend had made downstairs. If I could easily hear them, then that would probably mean that they could discern the noise of my escape just as clearly.

I came to focus on their conversation, and it was evident what was going on. Henry's friend had been called in to investigate a "suspicious character trespassing on vacant property", and had come in to look for a homeless wanderer.

Little did he know that he had actually stumbled upon two killers and that there was a sample of one's side-profession upstairs.

As I tried to discern what was going on, I realized two things. One, that Henry must have set down his axe to confront his friend and two, that if I wanted to gain the upper hand, disarming him would be a perfect way. I braced myself to take the first step as I heard them continue with talk.

I eased my foot onto the old, rickety floorboards as I heard the wood creak under my feet. Unfortunately for me, this building was constructed long ago and was scheduled to be torn down due to outdated architectural practices, such as wooden floorboards on higher stories. I wheedled my way down the stairs as I spotted a glimmering flash in the semi-darkness. It was the bloodied head of an axe.

I pushed down the urge to sprint and snatch it as I eased down the final steps towards the axe. As I was reaching for it, I heard Henry's friend trip the wire with the inquiry I was dreading. Henry's friend just gave him a reason to reach for the axe.

"So, anyway, what were you doin' up there?"

Just as I predicted, as soon as Henry's friend stopped speaking, Henry made a run towards the very stairs I was sitting in.

Without thinking, I bolted towards Henry, axe in hand, and as soon as he kicked in the door, I smacked him in the kneecap with the broad head of the axe, sending him into a howling fit. While he screamed, I did the honours of taking care of Henry's other problem, pushing the officer out of the window, onto the black, plastic lid of a nearby dumpster.

I kept running without even taking a break to hide the bloodied axe. I ensured to stay in the back allies and avoid the GCSS cameras that were scattered throughout New York. I finally made it to the back door of the apartment building, where I could take the maintenance elevator straight to my floor, no confrontation required.

I popped off the cheap casing of the key card scanner and took out a ziplock bag of USB's that I kept for getting into various instalments of Global Conglomerate hardware, most notably the cameras. I dug through the bag of USB's and picked out one with a red piece of tape on it, one that I used to temporarily factory reset keycard scanners and create a virtual wax key for faster access for next times.

I stuck the USB in a slot covered by a metal panel and suck it in. I waited for the software to work its magic, and as I did, I paused and fell to the ground, exhausted from running the streets with a hammer, a laptop, and an axe.

I waited for what seemed like an eternity and, just as I was considering going through the front, the elevator chimed and opened with the soft grind of the doors.

After retrieving my now one wax key better-off USB, I clipped the plastic cover back on and stepped into the elevator. As I punched in the number of my floor, the strong smell of paint and other maintenance materials brought my mind back to my on-paper life.

I had missed work completely today.