Addy the Killer

Chapter 11 - Hideout

His eyes fluttered open and they adjusted to the severe lack of light. It was dawn and the only light that pierced the thick layer of pine needles, also known as the canopy, were random flickers of purple, speckling the dirt. A slight breeze swayed the trees, moving the spots along the ground and protruding trees roots. He was feeling quite ordinary until he remembered. He has to find somewhere to hide before the sun comes out. Addy raised the hood up over his face after putting the mask on. He wandered around looking for something when he found a cottage. No not cottage; cottage sounds too peaceful, more like a shack. Even that was overselling it. It had four walls from what he could see, so it had that going for it but not much else. Out of the two windows that were in the wall only one had glass and it was cracked into a spider web shaped pattern. The walls were wooden planks and it had a tin roof, the overhang was held up by two poles over the door. Addy carefully approached the glassless window and peeked inside. It was too dark to make much out. He could only see part of a wooden floor, a tiny dust covered mat and a fireplace - fireplace! He almost tripped when he leapt for the door. The metal handle was freezing. He tugged and pushed it but it didn’t budge. He threw caution to the wind and rammed his shoulder into the door almost unhinging it. His momentum sent him flying and he skidded to a stop on his arm. After his head spin the room slowly came into focus. A pile of wood stacked up beside the brick fireplace. No mantle, just hooks. An image flashed in his mind; those same hooks holding rope. He let out a small gasp and turned abruptly to find a small toy truck and a soldier perfectly balanced on the roof of the vehicle. Another soldier hung from its tangled parachute on a loose bit of wood in the wall. Addy remembered this place. He used to come and play here when he was younger with… somebody, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember. He turned back to the task at hand and started piling sticks, twigs and leaves in the fireplace. Matches were on top of the logs and he struck one but it broke within his grip.  Then again, this one lit but he threw it to the ground. A fear of fire ravaged his mind and he backed away, a thin line of smoke wafting away from the match head. Addy thought to himself you’re being ridiculous; fire’s not scary. With that he lit another and this time he managed to light the kindling but unfortunately burnt his fore finger and thumb. He threw the match into the fire as well. He stoked it with a few of the smaller logs. Addy pulled off his hoodie and mask, tossing the mask aside. He held his hands out to absorb some heat and then turned his back in the hope to warm himself faster. In doing so he saw the dust ridden toys again which made him think even more about… everything. He remembered his mum and dad, the bullies, himself, his angel, the incident, but that was it. It was almost as if there was a locked box inside his head and the key was nowhere to be found.

Addy bent down and picked up an action figure that had one leg; broken at the knee, wearing cargo pants and a black singlet. He heard a click and almost as if one of the chains around the box broke, he remembered that there was someone else - someone else that used to come here with him. He remembered how he got into the forest but not why. It was as if he was putting the puzzle of his life together; it was unfinished and there were holes everywhere - he couldn’t see the big picture… yet.

Addy started to move everything around, seeing if there was anything useful. There wasn’t much there. A tiny cupboard stood in the corner, the rug sat in the middle of the floor and obviously the fireplace. Inside the cupboard were random toys. The odd thing was they were all broken but not one of the severed pieces was accounted for. Every now and then Addy would recognise one and blurred memories of childhood came flooding back. He looked around the chimney and there was nothing except a loose brick just underneath one of the hooks.  He tried to pull it out but in the end he had to use his mini knife to dig out some of the cracked concrete and wedged his finger in the gap. Dust and dirt fell until he freed the brick. He looked where it used to be and there was nothing but more bricks. He looked down at the brick in his hand and found it was hollow. There was something wrapped in a yellowed cloth within it. After taking out the package he practically threw the remains to the ground, excited to see what he’d found. Within the tattered rag he found a pocket knife. Addy inspected each and every arm that swung out on a hinge. There were five different components; a pair of miniature scissors, two different types of screw drivers, a pointed metal rod and a blade about the size of his forefinger.

Sun rays started to shine through the windows and glinted off his new knife, which brought him back to his senses. A sting stabbed his cheek. The pain grew more intense until Addy put two and two together and hid in the darkest corner of the decrepit building. With nothing else to do he admired his three weapons. The largest was his favourite. He studied the blade and found dried blood on it. It sent a shiver up his spine because not only he’d murdered someone but he just couldn’t put his finger on whom. He felt as though he could reach out and grasp it in his mind but ran into the walls of the locked box. Was there someone in his house? A robber? Addy furrowed his half burnt eyebrows and thought about this. Another chain broke; it was a little boy. He couldn’t believe he’d done something like this, not the murder but the fact of his age. He would’ve had his whole life ahead of him. He rested his head back against the splintering wood wall and closed his eyes, his legs tucked under his arms. Sleep came surprisingly easily for him despite everything that had happened and the now known fact.