Devils Rebels (MC)

26 - Eerie Silence and the Smell of Death

An eerie quiet settled in as I hurriedly jogged up the road, as if everyone knew there would be blood spilt today.

I knew exactly where to go, to the place that started everything. The place where my life had been ripped into pieces and burned without the hope of repair. I swallowed the fear, pushed it out of my mind and focused on what I needed to do.

My old house stood abandoned, no one wanted to live there after two people were viciously murdered within months of each other. It had deteriorated slowly from the outside, the paint was severely faded and peeling. Mold had settled itself within the fine crevices of the wood and moss had started it's vicious take over on the roof.

I glared at it. I hated this place. I hated every single little bit about this house. This house was where I was supposed to grow up in. It was where I was supposed to have happy memories of my teenage years, sneaking out to parties, stealing my parents car, drinking in the basement with friends... all of it.

I reached into my hoodie pocket and pulled out my mask and gloves. I wasn't as stupid as most people thought I was, I knew that forensics would get my prints from anything that I touched and I wasn't about to have that.

Pulling them on and covering my nose and mouth with the soft thick black material I went to the side of the house. We always loved our side door, it was the perfect way in and out of the house if we needed to leave in a hurry. It led into a small hallway that opened to a beautiful sitting room.

Surprised but also not surprised that it was still unlocked I pushed it open slowly. I was hit with that smell. That god awful smell of death, musk and mildew. I fought back the urge to gag and hurried inside.

I avoided the livingroom and kitchen, that's where they had been killed and I didn't want to see the stains that I knew would be left. There was just one place thatI could think of to go.

The Basement.

Dad had always told me to never go into it alone, something about how it wasn't safe and that I could get hurt or worse. It was a finished basement, and we had a play area down there - my brother had his video games set up and I had a play kitchen and the like of which I spent quite some time there.

Dad had what I had assumed was an office down there although he always kept it locked and told me to never ever go near the door. He had always seemed anxious whenever I passed by and I never understood why and to be honest I still didn't but I knew somehow deep inside that this is where I needed to go.