The Key Killer

Chapter 4

It is late at night when Mr Handerson wakes from having fallen asleep on the leather couch inside his apartment. 

Gunshot fire and war cries greet him upon awakening, ripping him cruelly out of his dozy state. The noise is only silenced by his fist, hitting the remote with such force, for a moment he believes to have broken it.

The old man falls back into the cushions and collects his thoughts before he gets up to take himself towards the promise of a soft mattress, waiting inside the empty walls of his bedroom.

In passing, his hazy eyes glance in routine over the old cabinet by the southern wall, where his late wife stares back at him accusingly from inside the dusty frame.
Even in death, her eyes are scolding him for having fallen asleep in front of the tv once again.

The ticking of the clock above steers his attention away from the person he wishes so secretly to join. With it showing almost 5 am, he knows he can sleep another three hours at most before he will have to make his way to the senior club for his daily morning gymnastics. 

Stealing a quick look out of his curtains, his movement ceases. 

It seems, Mrs Roberts is still up as well. 

The backdoor to his neighbour's brightly lit townhouse stands wide open and her golden retriever lays unmoving on the wooden slabs of her porch, probably asleep. He waits another moment for some sign of movement on her property, but nothing happens.

The cypresses in the impeccably kept garden bend under the force of the wind and remind him of the decreasing temperatures outside. A tingling sensation spreads within Mr Handerson's belly and he grows worried by the second for the retired woman. 

Sybill would surely make fun of him, would she still be alive.
But she isn't.

With a deep sigh, he corrects the glasses on his nose and heads towards his front door, but not without grabbing a warm jacket and his pepper spray. 

Just in case, the elderly man tells himself. 

_______

It's been two days since the serial killer's intrusion. Two days of not knowing what is going to happen next. But that is just life, isn't it?

Life and death surround us on all our paths. Why is it, we spend most of our precious time fearing one? And the other can scare just as much with all its responsibilities and what if-scenarios. All we can do is continue to exist and make the best of what we are given.

Zoe is doing exactly that. She has spent the entire day yesterday just wandering the forest, collecting nettle and observing the wonders of mother nature.

This morning, she feels reborn. With glowing skin and eager heart, she descends the stairs whilst wrapping herself in a warm, earthly toned cardigan. Looking from her kitchen window, she can tell that the winds have been picking up again. 

Autumn has arrived.

Like the other morning, she ignores her phone entirely and heads straight for the mahogany door leading out into the back, eager to wish her ladies a good morning. Yes, she loves the girls as if they are family and Katie has probably been the first friend to really understand her connection with them.

Hair flying wildly and challenging the view, her naked feet wade joyfully through the long grass. Fresh dew soaks from the leaves into her soles and Zoe is filled with deep gratitude for her existence. She has been staying away from the rest of the world since she has returned home and she isn't planning on changing that today.