The Unknown

The Finale

I wasn't thinking about anything at this particular moment. The seeking of explanation was enough for me not to consider half of what my grandfather just said. I think I utterly dropped the trigger to his other identity- the lethal identity.

 When I stretched my arm with the notepaper, he froze in his place for a few seconds, staring at the blood smear. His breaths started quickening and get louder. Droplets of sweat started running from his forehead all over his face. It was like he had been sprinting for hours, but without moving a single inch. He looked at me in widened eyes with stretched tiny veins in them. A look of fear and anger, as if he was a furious, helpless beast inside a cage. It took me an entire minute to realize what a terrible mistake I have just made. He jumped from his bed and rushed to open the window, then he jumped off it and disappeared. 

I hurried to the main door to go after him and stop a disaster from taking place. He was never here or there, and I felt all the blame mustered on my chest. I grabbed my car keys and stepped the pedal to scoot my city heading to Macvils. I couldn't think clearly at that time. It all happened in no time and in a sequence of psychological nonsense that I couldn't understand. I had my doubts about how would someone have more than an identity in his body; I found it overestimated. 

It never crossed my mind that I would experience a similar thing to fiction stories about serial killers or mental patients. But I found myself racing on the road to chase one of the legends I never believed in. I headed to midtown searching for a spot to leave the car in. I took off the car and sprinted to house 32 because it's the only place I know for the killer identity of my grandfather to be. I collected my whole courage in one breath, and opened the house main gate, walking in confident steps towards the door.

 It looked similar to the dream I had before, but without clouds and rains, or a silly candle in my hand. I climbed the few steps before the main door vigorously, as if I wanted to make everyone in the house know that I am at the doorstep, about to knock their door or open it by myself. I twisted the doorknob slowly and pushed the door. I stepped inside the house in slow steps, with caution eyes wandering everywhere inside it. I closed the door behind me so I wouldn't worry about what was coming after me. I took the stairs to the second floor where all the rooms were located. Everything was quiet and dead. I entered all the rooms that crossed my ways, which were all closed. I reached the last one, the only one that was slightly closed. A red pond was exposed from under the door, which made me shiver.

 I was a few seconds away from a gruesome sight. Blood inside a room in house 32, I didn't know how it could be worse. A dark room, only lit by the moonlight, where every corner is covered in dust. A thick rope hanging from the ceiling to surround a dead body's neck. The body was turned away from me so I didn't see his or her face, but from the clothes and the outer appearance, I could tell it was my grandfather hanged there. My eyes watered and I felt grief sneak into my heart in no time. I walked slowly inside the room to find a piece of paper on the bed. A suicide note, people call it. I unfolded it and started reading.

'''Cody, you will find this note next to my corpse inside house 32. I don't want you or anyone to blame me for taking my life, because it's harder to explain than to understand it. The last thing I remember was me and you in the house talking about how I came to do all these terrible actions. After that, I woke up to find myself in the backyard of this house along with three dead bodies. I could tell that my thirst for murder is progressive, and I couldn't ignore it longer to see more dreadful consequences. I don't want to wake up to find a dozen corpses around me, or to be shot and die without knowing how and when. I have caused so much fear, for you and for a whole city. This fear made me can't stand living with all these false accusations that people give me. I will keep blacking out and waking up with more victims every time, which is tragic. I am leaving. I am taking away this cruel myth with me. I am taking all this evil with me, even if it costs me my useless last days. I want to apologize to you, for anything that you've experienced because of me, when you didn't deserve it.'''

I folded back the note and put it in my pocket. I took out my phone to dial the police number.

"This is Cody Miller. I found Stephen Miller hanged in house 32," I said

After three minutes, the whole sight was in red and blue from police cars and ambulances. I was in my car watching them putting the body in a bag.

I don't know how that is somehow related to the snake matter that made me wet myself. It was the absolute worst place and time, I know that, but I just had the same feeling, the same sort of fear. The fear of something I don't its danger source. It was something beyond my self-control. I couldn't help it. I mean it could be anything, a snake, a wolf, Stephen Miller back from his grave, or whatever. I think I acquired a phobia that makes me don't know what do I have to be afraid of. I don't think I can get rid of it or its symptoms. What I know is that I am less afraid when I know what to fear, when I know how to avoid it. I have been through an experience that its residues are left behind in every second I am breathing. I hope that I could get over it, you can help me with it.