Who Killed Kyle Simmons? (Bastille)

Chapter Nine

Chapter nine

The next morning Layla was back at Janna's house.

Nothing had been moved. There was the same maroon-red rug, matted slightly with blood, and the sofa hadn't changed from it's slightly tilted angle in front of the television.

Janna would move away soon. That's what always happened.

Relatives of the victim would always try to escape the bad memories that clung to the room where they'd found the lifeless body of someone they loved.

What made this case worse however, was the fact that the victim in this murder had been famous, part of a band.

Thousands of fans would want 'justice'.

This placed a huge responsibility on Layla to solve the crime and find the murderer.

Photos of Kyle and Janna were on the walls, but smiling, looking happier, eyes squinting in the sunlight.

She had to tear her eyes away and focus on the floor.

It was then Layla noticed the trodden in mud on the carpet. Kyle had been wearing mud covered shoes, but he'd not got to the end of the rug in his bid to escape.

Crouching down, she took out a tissue and wrapped a clump of dried mud in it.

The room seemed so quiet, so still. Layla whipped her head around as a floorboard behind her creaked.

She couldn't see anyone, but knew enough to judge that she needed to leave as fast as she could.

Pocketing the mud sample, she ran out of the door, slamming it behind her. She knew no one could have been there, but had no way of knowing if she was 100% right.

There was a suspicion in the back of her mind, a theory, and the only way to test it, was to go back to the morgue.

********

Kyle's family had left, so apart from the odd researcher, no one was around.

The morgue was eerily quiet. The draw squeaked and scratched as it was pulled out of the draw, the cold body rocking slightly.

Layla had to stand on her toes as she unzipped the foot end of the body bag.

Carefully, she scratched off some of the dried mud that was glued to Kyle's sneakers.

It had rained nonstop that Sunday.

As she carefully zipped up the bag and pushed the draw in, Layla felt a chill travel up her spine.

There was something wrong, and it wasn't the numerous bodies that lay, filed before her.

Her samples were on the table. They were exactly the same, which must mean Kyle, and whomever had killed him, had met before the murder.

They'd both been in the same place, at around the same time.

Shortly after the intense rain, the roads became flooded, the woods waterlogged and muddy.

Muddy.

"Fuck."

Layla rushed over to the draws once again, hair escaping from her bun as she carefully scoured over all of the labels.

Abby Teller.

If the draw hadn't have made such a piercing noise, maybe, she might have heard the footsteps, before the light flickered, and plunged the room into darkness.

Layla pressed her back close to the draws.

Her breathing echoing loudly around the room, a thin sliver of light from the door was the only thing she could see.

She tried to keep calm. It was fine, just a power failure.

The draw next to her was slammed shut with a loud metallic bang.

Layla ran.

Someone grabbed her arm and put a gloved hand over her mouth, slamming her into the metal draws.

Pain shot through the back of her head, soon to be replaced with fear.

In the almost lightless room, she could see two eyes, glinting maliciously inches from her face.

Slowly, they removed their hand from her mouth. Their first finger in front of their lips.

"Shhhhhhhh."

The light suddenly illuminated the room again, no one was there.

She could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

On the table in front of her, the mud samples were gone, no trace left behind.

The draw she'd opened minutes ago, was still out as she cautiously crept over, Abby Teller, found buried in the woods, mud plastered to her body.

It's easier to dig a shallow grave when the earth is wet.

That must mean, that somehow, Kyle and his killer, are connected to the murder of Abby Teller.

Slowly, Layla took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she leaned against the draw to shut it.

She was in no way prepared for what she saw next.

On the wall, at the end of the room, written in blood was a message, the cadaver crumpled in the corner, was bloody, insides scooped over the floor.

Her voice was shaky as Layla whispered the dark red words to herself.

"Something wicked this way comes. Fair is foul and foul is fair."

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A/N

Sorry for not updating yesterday guys, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it.

I love reading your comments and theories on who may have killed Kyle, and now things are getting more serious, have your opinions changed?

Please vote, comment, share etc... :)