Red Writers

Chapter 7

I wanted to scream inside ...

Why was this avalanche of misfortune happening to me?

What had I done to deserve this ?!

I then felt my knees fail and fell to the ground. I was downcast ... My friend who had no enemies in the world. Such a cheerful and benevolent soul! I came to my senses as I thought I had to call Victor Blunt the doctor, because maybe Emily wasn't dead and I had misinterpreted her pulse.

He arrived quickly, but the first to arrive was Stephen and his sweetheart Samantha. Stephen's face as he saw his cousin expressed horror. On that of his wife, I could not detect anything, because it was surprisingly impassive.

So I had no idea what she was thinking until I saw a kind of quiet smile form. At that point I tried not to jump on her and strangle her.

Which I didn't do of course, but only because I thought about the pain it would have caused Stephen who had been, from the very beginning, been very kind to me. I had never liked Samantha though ... She had always expressed a certain hatred towards guests, including me.

By omitting Stephen, whom she seemed madly in love with. I just stared at her wickedly so she could tell I had seen that smile she had tried to hide.

Victor pushed everyone who stood in his way to Emily. He rushed at her to try, in vain, a few attempts at resuscitation. She was already dead and there was nothing we could do about it ... I suddenly thought of the neighbours who were also dead and the time between these two events was tiny.

At that point, I still thought these deaths were the work of some deranged man wandering the streets. The depression was felt in the room and silence invaded it for a long time. No one dared to say a word. Rosalia Lombardo broke this precarious silence by saying:

-Call the police for goodness sake!

Everyone looked at me after what she said. I picked up my phone with my trembling hands, and for a moment I forgot that crucial detail of the lack of network ... "There is still no network," Daniel Lee said as if he could read my mind.

-No, I say red with anger.

-How is there not? Lily Eilleen said.

-How did you go about calling the police for the neighbors story? Miguel Suàrez asked.

-We didn't do that, that's all, answered Daniel for me.

-It is not possible! Saw a police officer through my window yesterday! Samantha said.

-Perhaps it's the disguise of the deranged man having fun doing these horrible murders! I say furiously.

The guests fell silent and I realized that I had lost my temper. My reaction and the mood swings were normal though, I thought to myself as I thought about this whole crazy and horrifying situation at the same time.

What was weird was that no one besides me seemed so devastated. I told myself that my reasoning was playing tricks on me due to the emotion. I obviously didn't feel in the mood to argue, so I ran to my room to calm down. The others spoke a little, then did the same. Only Clovis and Miguel remained in the living room. We stayed for nearly an hour in our respective rooms.

All of a sudden I heard someone enter mine. Thinking this one was the murderer, I reflexively picked up the gun I had hidden under my stack of sweaters. I was prepared for any eventuality. As the individual's footsteps came closer, I stood still, clutching my weapon so tight it almost shattered. The problem was, it had made a noise that echoed throughout the room. Sensing that the person was going to discover me soon, I had the courage to stand up directly in my face from her pointing the gun at him. To my surprise it wasn't a thief or a madman, it was Marianne Reilly, Emily's lawyer.

-You're the only sounding sane person here, she told me.

-Uh ... thank you, I say flattered, but still in surprise.

I lowered my gun.

-These two murders were not committed by a stranger. The culprit is one of Emily's guests, she replied quickly. I don't have time to tell you more.

-Wait, I said, holding her arm, are you sure what you are saying?

-Yes, Emily told me that one of her relatives was a serial murderer. She called them all together to tell them something she hadn't told me about.

- Is the culprit among us?

-Yes," she just said.

-But that's absurd! I only see one person who might want to kill her!

-Who is it? Emily asked me to guess who the murderer was. I am currently in total darkness with no suspects! This is why I came to meet you: to help me!

-This is just an ill-founded and probably mistaken feeling, I said as I saw Samantha's ugly smile again.

-All that Emily told me that complements this is that if we unmask the culprit, this is and will forever be an unfinished work ...

As she said this, she turned on her heels and left my room to join his in the basement. I let myself fall into my bed and thought about the end of the sentence Marianne had said, this is and will forever be an unfinished work ... With that I fell asleep.

The next day I was awakened to the sound of suitcases tumbling down the stairs. I got dressed and went downstairs to see what was going on. Suddenly I saw everyone with their suitcases watching television intently. They all exclaimed curses at the same time. I asked Clovis what was going on and he replied that there was an avalanche of snow and it was not safe to take the road for people who wanted to go.

This event reminded me that we were condemned here to be shot by a murderer or a serial murderer. Life had decided to keep us prisoner here in this house which, over time, had lost its charm and had become a dismal place. Without knowing why, I say to myself once again: this is, and will forever be, an unfinished work ...