Haunted by Screams (Jeff the Killer)

Chapter 38. Screams in my head, a demon under my bed

"Is this it?"

The police looked blankly yet determined at officer John whose face seemed to have aged 10 years in the past month. His fat fingers held the tiny piece of paper with the simple but so important adress scribbled on it.

"Yeah, looks as it"

They had been searching for months now, however every single clue or tip had led them straight to an dead end. This was the last adress they had gotten a tip about which John hoped would give some sort of pay-off for all their consuming work.

If he of course is alive, that is...

"Shall we?" the policeman asked as his blue eyes sparkled with hesitation yet determination as he glanced at John's tired expression.

"Indeed we shall"

Rain was dripping as they helped themselves into the apartment complex, their coats oozing of coldness as the warmth from inside hit their frozen skins. John had been informed that it was a small complex with only five apartments owned by a private landlord who seemingly did not care much abut those he rented out to, meaning you could quite easy slip by as a 'no-one in particular'. The observation weight heavy in John's tired mind as they went up the first set of stairs and rang on the first doorbell.

A woman in her late 70's opened the front door as she carefully peaked out at the two men standing there.

"Good-evening', we're here concerning an investigation in-"

"Three stairs up and the left door. Thank god for you finally coming. It stinks all the way from up there to down here. May God help us all"

Before John could ask her further she quickly closed the door in their faces, as they both heard the old woman turn the lock.

"This job never gets boring" John heard his co-worker saying, yet his thoughts were analyzing the words the old lady had just uttered.

"Stinks?" He muttered as his colleague hade gone silent.

"Yeah?"

Are we too late?

He took to his potato-nose and could indeed feel an odd smell seemingly coming from further up in the apartment complex.

"A carcass would indeed smell" he spoke silently has his colleague hissed for air between his teeth as John knew he too began connecting the dots.

"Lets hurry then" the colleague silently spoke as they walked further up, heart now pounding harder in between their ribcages.

The old stone steps made echoes through the building as John turned toward the other man.

"Heard anything more about Paul Simmons? Have they found anything concerning him yet?"

"No nothing Sir. Should we assume that..?"

"As long as the search team has not found any indications of a corpse, we must still consider it a missing person's case. The daughter of his is also missing, making it all a bit too.. coincidental to say the least"

John went silent as the last steps led them the way towards the brownish door suddenly facing the both of them. They stopped and observed the well-used door-handle and dirty lock for the apartment's keys.

The building was silent, and the smell hung even heavier up here compared to the first floor. A decomposing body would smell immensely bad John knew from experience, yet this smelled more that of someone who'd forgotten to clean their cat's litterbox for the last year or so than that of a carcass.