Mortality

Results

11.

The quaint village of Lower Ashdown was harbouring a baleful resident, but he had operated unnoticed so far. Admittedly, the two disappearances had attracted some attention, but, on the whole, things had gone rather smoothly for him. Research had continued largely uninterrupted, with the exception of a smaller base for activity, and even that came with the benefit of more subjects. The surrounding neighbourhoods had also experienced a few mysterious vanishings. It was incredible how well life had turned out for this abnormal inhabitant. This he knew, and he had been unfailingly cautious during each experiment. Despite his good fortune, however, strong disappointment still resided in the man. After years of searching, he had finally found the perfect object for his studies, and watched said object escape due to his own incompetence.

Far from ceasing the search, though, he had resumed with renewed vigour, as he was now aware that what he sought actually existed. He hadn't again encountered the phenomenon yet, but he was sure it resided in others. Nobody was unique. They were all predictable, unremarkable creatures just trudging through life in the way society dictated without a second thought. That was why he did what he did. If death did bring some release, some profound change in a person, then he wanted to experience it firsthand. The problem was he wanted to do so without dying himself, which was why he required test subjects.

When the perfect creature had presented itself to him, a being that could die yet simultaneously live to tell the tale, it had seemed too good to be true. Finally, the mysteries of death would be revealed. Alas, all hopes were diminished the instant he had left it alone, given it time to think, to plan. The loss had been wearisome, but it did not quell the lingering desire and curiosity that had long existed in the bereft. He had put up a convincing act in the neighbourhood to which he had been located. Far from the antisocial, seedy and shifty man next door, which, for the record, was the general conception of a sociopath, and therefore aroused suspicion, this particular black hat maintained an outwardly ordinary life. The pretence extended so far as to convince the actor himself that, in certain company, he was everything he claimed to be. Even his old alias no longer seemed to apply to him. The Killer was gone, in his place simply Victor. This was the new name given to him for protection, and he found it oddly suitable. His research had come on magnificently in terms of sophistication and scientific orientation. Senseless killings had become non-existent, with Victor now devising the most efficient and enlightening methods to use, and possessing advanced equipment which enabled very imaginative murders.

He had recently taken to stopping the heart briefly with electric shocks, and then restoring the heartbeat in order to question the recipient. The idea had actually come from a medical procedure designed to treat arrythmia. Of course, it wasn't quite the same as it was with the last subject, but it would do until he could track down a similar individual. He had high hopes for this new procedure, as, although the lab rat had so far been unsuccessful in its attempts to remember dying, he was sure that constant, unrelenting repetition would begin to have some effect. Yes, he had high hopes indeed.

"Excuse me? Sir?" the man turned to face him inquiringly. "Yes?" "Sorry to bother you, is there a-" he looked at the paper, "-Victor Loomis living here?" "Yeah, three doors down, number nine." he confirmed. "Thank you." Jonathan turned to leave, but a hand on his shoulder kept him in place. To his supreme annoyance, he found himself wheeled around. "Say, why are you looking for him, anyway?" the neighbour pried. "Just visiting an old friend." Jonathan smiled, and quickly walked away, evading another potential grasp and thus terminating the conversation. Three sharp knocks on door number 9 received no answer, much to Jonathan's disappointment, but he would not give up here, not when he was so close. A low fence around the back garden provided another entry point, and it was utilised immediately. While the back door was also locked, there was a small balcony within reach if he jumped. He was forced to perform a complicated manoeuvre involving several limbs in order to swing himself up and over the railing, as the climb required more upper body strength than he had been endowed with. The balcony was positioned outside what looked like the master bedroom, on the second storey of the house. Unfortunately, this door, too, was sealed. Deciding that now was not the time for neatness, Jonathan brought the stolen gun from the waistband of his trousers, and shattered a glass window with its butt. He swept the remaining fragments from their place and carefully stepped inside.

Now he was left with a dilemma. He wanted to explore the house and find the best hiding spot from which to ambush his target, but, on the offchance that he was home, and just hadn't answered the door, perhaps having seen Jonathan, he did not want to be caught and perhaps recaptured. Eventually, he chose to take the risk. It was mid-afternoon, and therefore unlikely that the bedroom's occupant would return soon. Opening the door, he slowly and silently gravitated towards the ground floor. Once there, a strangely muffled noise could be heard, similar to a scream. Jonathan stood stock still, waiting, braced. The scream disappeared for a short time, only to return for several more minutes, when it was joined by a deeper sound, which was gradually getting louder. Jonathan made up his mind and determined that one of them was the man he pursued, and that the sound was emitting from the basement, the door of which he believed he was staring at. He moved to the kitchen and broke a glass loudly, attempting to attract attention. He then returned to face the basement door, gun ready and breath bated. A set of footsteps made their way towards him, and adrenaline flowed through Jonathan's body as he had never experienced, his heart pumping wildly. A latch slid open and he into view came a face unrecognisable to Jonathan, except for the eyes.