The Devil's Symphony

Chapter 3

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that." -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr

~~~

I sat in the waiting room of the police station as my mom spoke with Mr. Bradsmen and a couple of other officers. Occasionally they would glance my way. I leaned forward, trying to hide my face with my long brown hair. I was embarrassed after my fit I had in the interrogation room in front of Mr. Bradsmen. The only good thing was that it had me placed at the bottom of the suspect's list. Unfortunately, they had moved on and were now questioning my mental state.

I turned away from them, my chin resting on my palm. Instead I attempted to look out the station's front glass doors, not that there was much to see. The sun had set and it was pitch black outside. As a result, the inside of the station reflected off of the glass windows. I couldn't escape this place even through looking.

I was about to turn away again when someone caught my eye in the reflection. A guy was standing to the right of the mirrored front desk. His black hair sat wavy at shoulder's length and partially covered the sides of his face. He was attractive, so attractive that despite my attempt to prevent it, my heart gave a flip. His facial features were so perfect they looked as though they had been carved in stone, cold stone. He didn't look friendly. His jaw was square and stern, his cheeks hollow. His brows were low and cast shadows over his deeply set eyes which flickered from the overhead lights. The very same eyes that were currently staring right at me.

I switched my gaze from the window and towards the front desk with every intention to glare him down. I had enough attention as it was from practically the whole town, still, even after four months. I was not in the mood to be looked at as the usual freak show, even if the guy was good looking.

I looked around the front desk glare-ready but was met with confusion when I couldn't see him. I looked back at the reflection. Still there and still staring. I took notice of his burgundy shirt and the fat man who sat a couple feet away from him and frowning, glanced back to the front desk.

I scooted towards the edge of my seat and managed to find the pink and sweaty overlarge man in the hawaiian shirt but for the life of me couldn't see the stranger. Was I seeing things? Great. That would definitely help my case in the mentally crazy department.

Once again I turned towards the mirrored image and immediately found him. His gaze was strong and my limbs went cold as the corners of his lips went up, curving into a smile. A wicked smile. A smile that made his face grow dark and his once flickering eyes go black.

My eyes widened in fear and slowly, ever so slowly I turned to face the inside of the station, praying all the while that I would really see him, and that his grin from just then was just a trick of the light. A small part of me hoped I wouldn't see him, but then it'd be confirmation for myself that everyone was right, that I really was crazy.

My eyes flickered over the brown haired desk lady with the bun, the edge of the desk to the left, then...vacant wall space. I quickly stood and walked over towards the desk. I couldn't be crazy. I couldn't. I saw him. He had to be there. Maybe he had sat down? Maybe he had gone to the bathroom? Maybe-

I stared at the empty space against the wall by the desk where he had originally been standing. Wherever he was, he definitely wasn't here.

My eyes landed back on the reflection, meeting my own gaze. I froze in horror as my gaze shifted up and there he was, with the same dark expression, right behind me. I was too afraid to move. He stood several inches above me and I watched as he leaned forward, his chin over my shoulder, a sharp grin on his mouth. I shivered as the small hairs of my neck moved from his cold breath. I struggled to run but was transfixed on the spot as his breath moved up from my neck to my ear.

"Hello Brielle"

I gasped and spun around but was met with cold air. I hurriedly looked back at the window expecting to see him but he was no longer in the reflection. I raked my hands through my hair while looking around the station. My heart still beat frantically from fear. How the hell did he know my name? More importantly, what the hell was going on? Maybe I really was going crazy.

"Just a teensy-little bit."

With shock I looked to my right having forgotten I wasn't alone. The pink-faced hawaiian shirt guy was giving me a look like I had grown another head. It then dawned on me that he was responding to me, which meant I must have been speaking out-loud. Feeling my face heat up, I cleared my throat and walked away, avoiding his stare. These past 24 hours really couldn't be added to my valued experience's list.

To my relief, by the time I got back over to my seat, my mom was finished talking to Mr. Bradsmen and the other policemen.

"I'll be sure to keep in contact William. Thank you for everything." I heard her say as she and Mr. Bradsmen (or William) exchanged goodbye's. Spotting me, she gestured for us to leave. After glancing once more at the spot I was before, I followed wordlessly but not without noticing Mr. Bradsmen staring me down as we left. Questions burned in my mind, desiring to know what they had been talking about.

Once buckled, I impatiently waited for my mom to start the car.

"So uh, what did he say?" I said not being able to wait any longer.

My mom pulled out onto the road before responding. "What did who say?"

"Mr. Bradsmen. What were you and Mr. Bradsmen talking about?"

"Mr. Bradsmen? Whose that?"

I tapped my fingers impatiently. "Mr. Bradsmen, William, whatever his name is!"

Her lips thinned. "Really Brielle? I don't think right now is the time to lose your patience with me. If anyone should be losing their patience, it should be me."

Really? After all that I had gone through, all of which I wasn't to blame, she was going to place the fault on me. I clenched my jaw and leaned back in my seat. After five months of doing my best to be calm and patient with hopes that eventually everything would die down and be back to normal, it still wasn't. If anything, everything had gotten worse. My own mother was taking the side against me and far worse, there had been another death.

I tried to keep calm by attempting a sudden interest at the passing trees lit by the full moon. It didn't work. Despite trying not to, I found myself thinking back to the picture of the dead body they found. I really hadn't recognized him. He had looked to be around 28, but then again, I really didn't know. The bigger question is, why was someone dead always popping up wherever I am? Beach, forest, you name it. What really isn't helping the case is the fact that I can't remember anything from either event.

I thought back to what happened in the police station with the reflected stranger. Crap. I hope I didn't have some kind of multi-personality disorder or even worse, that I was becoming a schizo and that I was in fact the true committer of both crimes. I rested my head against the window. I really hope I wasn't going crazy.