Deep Waters

Chapter Thirty-Four

"What did you just say?" I asked into the phone. I was out on a jog by myself, needing out of the house, when I received an urgent call from Daniel.

"The Andersons," he repeated. "Miles' parents—they are dead."

I was speechless. Paranoia made me observe my surroundings a little closer, checking all the dark crevices between trees and bushes. "How?"

"Someone broke into their household and murdered them both. Gunshots to the chest. We are waiting on the results of the bullet type to find a model of gun for the weapon. Miles and Olivia are both fine—neither of them was home at the time of the attack. I've got them both in a safe house for the next few days or at least until we can find a safer place for them to stay." My thoughts drifted to the siblings. I knew they were taking things hard. Losing parents wasn't easy. I thought about the call from Miles the day before—the one where he told me about his little crush on me. Giving him a call or text would be a great idea. I took a mental note to do that later.

"And Delilah?" Daniel spoke after a long moment in my thoughts. There was some kind of fear or uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeah?" I stopped looking around my surroundings after convincing myself that I was alone like I had originally thought.

"This was Charles."

Although this didn't come as a surprise, the words still made me still in place. Taking deep breaths, I crossed my free arm over my chest. "Are you sure?" If this really was Charles, that meant that he was still around that town in Ohio. The others had just gone back.

"He left you a video."

My heart was beating so loud in my chest, I wasn't sure if I had heard him right. "He what?"

"He left you a video," Daniel repeated a little clearer. "There was a flash drive found at the scene. There was only one thing on it, and it is a video, from Charles, directed to you.

I exhaled slowly, knowing that remaining calm was the only way I could keep my head clear and rational. "What kind of video?"

"Take a look for yourself." With that, Daniel hung up the call line and within seconds, forwarded a video to my phone.

For a good few minutes, I just stared at the play button over the video on my screen. What was with Charles and leaving things behind for me? First, the letter that was written for me, and now a video. I was terrified to watch it. Being all alone in the middle of a path in the woods now felt extremely uncomfortable and unsafe. Immediately, I let the paranoia persuade me and I started making my way back to the Piper's house. I was maybe a mile out, so I began jogging back. Watching the video and letting it psych me out while I was all alone and far from the house was an awful idea and I knew it. I'd watch it as soon as I got back.

It took me about fifteen minutes to make it back to the front door. Fortunately, I walked inside and didn't come in contact with anyone. I don't know how I would explain this situation before I had even gotten a chance to see what was on this video. Very quickly, I made my way to my current bedroom and threw my sweaty self on my bed. My thumb touched the play button.

My eyes immediately recognized Charles standing in the middle of a living room. He looked a little older than the last time I had seen him. Dark bags were puffy under his eyes and his lips were chapped. His mustache and beard were now longer than a stubble, I guess shaving wasn't a part of his agenda now. I even noticed some grey hairs speckling in his usual, shaggy brown hair. There were picture frames in the background, so I knew he was standing in the Anderson's house. He stared into the camera lens, making me feel like he was right in front of me, talking directly to me. The film quality was horrible and it made me wonder what in the world he filmed it on.

"Whoever finds this video, I want you to show my daughter Delilah. This video is intended for her," he began. The man then sat down in the middle of the hardwood floor, like a weirdo before he continued. "It's odd, the things people tend to remember when they watch someone die..." He shrugged. "I'm sure it's different for everyone and depends on your relationship to the person dying, I imagine. Mr. Anderson here, I obviously don't know personally, nor do I his wife," he said, glancing to his side, where I imagined the bodies were lying. "Had it been Miles, like it was supposed to, I think I'd be remembering the times he listened to me, fulfilling my requests, and then the times he abandoned my ways...Personally, I don't usually tend to really think about the past when watching my victim die.

"Delilah, the two times I thought I succeeded in killing you, I didn't remember or think about anything. I was only consumed with the anger you caused me when you lived," he told me. "Your mother, I thought about a little, but I was able to wake myself up from the past dreams with the anger she caused me...and you know, just an hour ago I had this whole, well thought out plan that I was going to follow step-by-step. Kill Miles. Kill the gang. Kill anyone else who has been in my way if I cross paths with them and get the opportunity. Then kill you, my Darling," he explained.

I watched my father purse his lips and lean back, holding his weight up with his free arm. "But watching these bullets go through Mr. and Mrs. Anderson's chest, just didn't give me that thrill that I thought it would...And I don't think I'd get that thrill with anyone else on my list—except for you, that is. You, I'd enjoy killing..." For a second, the man seemed to be lost in thought. "So, I'm now burning my plan, thanks to you." He smiled at the camera. "Congratulations on saving the lives around you, my dear...It has only cost you yours...I'll see you soon, Delilah."

Anger riled through me. I wanted to throw my phone against the wall. The audacity of this man just walking around killing people because he felt like it. He wasn't ever after the Andersons. He probably just killed them, mad when he realized Miles wasn't there. But he was no longer targeting any of my friends. That had to be good news, right? I was still in danger, but did I really care about that if everyone around me was safe? I no longer had to worry about their safety all the time. At least not as much.

"Well, that sounded gruesome."

I jerk my body around to face Sam who was standing in my bedroom doorway. "I'm not in the mood Sam." My father had just announced that he was now coming straight for me. Being aggravated by Sam's presence was the last thing I needed. What I needed was to talk to my brother.

The boy shrugged and crossed his arms, now walking toward me. "I am. Your dad is too, apparently," he added. "Looks like there's blood in your future."

Without even hesitating, I plunged myself toward him and pushed him so hard, he stumbled back against the wall. "What? Are you psychotic too?" I asked, my voice raised and anger spitting in each word. "You really have a habit of getting into my business which has nothing to do with you. I don't need your comments. I don't need your annoying little opinions on everything that I go through. My life and my death is absolutely none of your business and you are one hell of a psychopath if you think it is."

Sam's eyes flared with anger. He stood up straighter and for once, actually looked a little intimidating. "Watch yourself."

I didn't dare back down. I even stepped forward. "And if I don't? What are you gonna do?" I challenged him. "Threaten me? Fight me? Run to your mommy and daddy and beg them to kick me out?" I stepped even closer, to where we were just a foot apart. "Or what? You'll kill me? Beat Charles to it? Just to prove a point?" Gritting my teeth, I continued. "Is that what you did to Macy? Did she make you mad? Did you end up killing her for it?"

It was Sam's turn to grab me by the shoulders and slam me against the wall, knocking the breath out of me. His fingers wrapped around the base of my throat, holding me there tightly. "Shut your mouth," he demanded gravely.

I almost laughed. "You did, didn't you? You killed her."

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing," he growled, his jaw clenching.

"What can I say? I was raised by a psychopath." I jammed my elbow into his arm twice until he released his grip around my throat. The pam of my hand connected with his cheek resulting in a loud "slap" filling the space around us. "Grab me like that again and you'll never see the light of day again...Now leave me the hell alone." I stormed out of the room.

***

I hope all of you are having a great day:)))

thanks for reading!

~Emily