Corrupted

Chapter 12

We went back into the family room. My mother politely excused herself to start preparing for dinner while I called Kroos.

Lars joined our conversation without saying much. After endless irrelevant topics, I exclaimed, "so I heard the guys at the station are calling him Ginger Slayer."

-"Shamefully, yes they are."

-"How are you planning on catching him? You're smart and all, figuring out his pattern, but how are you going to catch him since you don't know how he looks like?"

When Lars heard what I had said, he started jumping up and down and shouting the word "home" repeatedly.

We all looked at him with perplexion when my mom came from the kitchen and said, "just take him home. He knows what he's saying; he's a very bright kid."

Not wasting any time, Brenn helped me put on my coat, and soon we were on our way to Lars' old house while Kroos stayed with my mother. Half way there, Lars let go of my hand and started running and hopping amusingly towards the house. I wanted to run after him, but Brenn told me to give him a little space. We strolled after him. It was a long walk to his house, and we couldn't go through with awkward silence. Brenn made the first move and held my hand. I looked down at our entwined hands that fit each other's gaps perfectly. His thumb moved in circular motions making me giggle shyly. 

He looked at me questioningly with a wide grinn.  

-"I'm ticklish," I said innocently enough.

He laughed and let his other hand fall roaming around my waist. What he did next was the least I expected. He started tickling me, making me jump, scream and hysterically laugh. I managed to liberate myself from his soft grip, still laughing. He leaned closer, but I stopped him trying to catch my breath and said, "Oh no, you'll have to catch me first." When he tried to take a step forwards, I pushed him back earning myself a headstart. Who knew I could run so fast?

My excitment of beating Brenn to the house faded away once I entered. Lars was lying there on the ground, immobile. I sprinted over to him and crashed on my knees in the blood that pooled around him.

I raised my head to scream for Brenn, but my voice disappeared as I caught a glimpse of a tall blond man making his way through the bushes hurrily. I found the courage to shout; however, Brenn spared me the trouble. He looked at me terrified, and, in a flat mouvement, was kneeling next to me.

I screamed while sobbing, "There," pointing towards the window, "he was there."

I held Lars' fragile body and layed his head on my knees caressing his cheeks while Brenn pulled out his gun and headed hastly outside.

Lars held my hand and squeezed on it catching my attention. He turned my hand over so that he had access to my palm, and with his blood he wrote the letters "B, O, X" and looked at the dresser that was at the end of the room.

Moments later he surrendered to death. I gasped loudly and held him close to my chest giving him his last hug ever.

I felt hands wrapping around me. I didn't need to turn because the comfort they offered was familiar to me. I couldn't cry anymore. I have cried so much lately, It was like I was becoming immune to sorrow.

We spent the next minutes sitting in this position, no one daring to say a word.

I clustered the energy to speak but it only came out as a whisper, "The dresser. Check the dresser for a box."

Brenn hurtfully pulled me away, but I fought back. 

He hugged me from behind and lifted me delicately. I turned in my place and allowed my head to rest on his solid chest sobbing the pain away, and he let me.

I couldn't bare looking at Lars in that position, stabbed lifeless on the ground, so I went over to the nearest bed, ripped out the duvets and covered the innocent child.

I looked over at Brenn who was holding an old wood-carved box. He hesitated before opening it, but I pleaded him silently with my eyes to get over with it fast. I had to get out of this place.

I couldn't decifer Brenn's look. He opened the box and stared at its content. Confusion on his face was clear now. I walked towards him. Curiosity was killing me. I was stunned when I discovered that the old box sheltered a stack of childish drawings. Brenn removed the papers from the box to browse them. 

I hovered over his shoulders, mainly because I didn't want to be alone with Lars' body, but also because I wanted to know what was so important in those paper: Lars' last breath.