Missing The Mark ✔

15

Kol and I found ourselves in his car, perched outside of a weather-worn concrete house, its exterior bereft of fresh paint. Instead of a manicured lawn, a wild expanse of untamed grass sprawled across the front yard. A decrepit car, missing two wheels and marred with graffiti, stood as a silent sentinel. The house itself appeared forgotten, its walls adorned with creeping vines that clung from the ground to the upper windows. It emitted an eerie aura of desolation, leaving us to wonder if anyone was even living there.

I leaned forward, pressing my face against the window of the car, attempting to catch a glimpse of any signs of Boris with his fiery mane or Har, the bald one. There was nothing, no trace of them inside the silent house. It was evident that nobody was home. I turned to Kol, a sense of uncertainty nagging at me. "No one's home. What now?"

"Let's go then," he declared, and I anticipated him to restart the car. However, to my surprise, he stepped out and awaited my departure from the safety of the vehicle. I couldn't help but groan audibly, why did I become involved in this? I reluctantly exited the car and joined Kol, who sported an anticipatory grin. "This is going to be fun," he remarked, a sentiment that left me feeling quite uneasy.

"What do you even plan to do? If you're going to try to kill them, please just let me stay in the car, and don't tell me." I said to him. He tugged my arm and pulled me to walk with him. We walked through the high grass toward the front door. Why are we going in through the front door? "Do you at least have gloves?" I asked him, and just like that, he pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket and shoved his fingers into it. He looked at me as if to say 'Happy?' I rolled my eyes. Is this really happening? He's walking around with a pair of gloves, and it's sending my mind racing. What else is he carrying? What did he do while I was talking with Lukas in his room? Does he have a weapon on him? Why the gloves? So many questions swirled in my mind as I observed Kol's weird accessory.

Kolton turned the doorknob and pushed the door, but it was closed. He took his push again to no avail and I just rolled my eyes at his silly efforts. Why must he bring me along on this idiot expedition of his? After failing to open the door for the third time he broke it down. "What sense does that make?" I groaned. I just don't want to be here. Kol ignored me and everything I was saying and began to walk through the house.

To our right, the first thing we encountered was a rickety flight of stairs that appeared as though it could barely support my weight, let alone Kol's. The stairs had seen better days, with faded and frayed burgundy carpet covering the top half, its edges tattered and worn. Along several of the bottom steps on both sides, there were pairs of shoes haphazardly arranged, their socks protruding from most of them. A sense of neglect and disarray hung in the air, with the only exception being the lone shoe on the third-to-last step to the right.

When we looked left, there was, what I supposed was a living room. Along three of the dingy, peeling walls, there were decrepit, beaten-up couches that seemed to have weathered a lifetime of neglect. Positioned at the center of the room was a small, rectangular trunk serving as a makeshift table. It was strewn with beer cans and bottles, an overflowing ashtray brimming with cigarette butts and a few lighters, and a card, that I couldn't really decipher what it was for. I can only guess they would kneel on the ground to sniff it up or just sit around on the floor to smoke. Although the couches looked extremely old and used, they probably never even used them. Perhaps they got it from someone else's garbage. My gaze extended past the dilapidated living area, revealing an equally chaotic kitchen, but I was only able to get a peak because I was distracted by the sound of Kol taking a step up the stairs. 

I groaned in aggravation. Why am I here to witness this? His gloved hand ran along the rails as he went up. I followed behind him silently, still not really sure what his plan was. The staircase made these creepy, soft creaks as we climbed, and it got me wondering how the heck Boris and Har managed to put up with living in this rundown place. I mean, seriously, this place looked like it could fall apart any second.