Part 2

Richard and Christine ate dinner later that night and he changed to more comfortable clothes and decided to head back to the crime scene. Richard began to have this funny look on his face when he neared the house. He didn't want to mention it to Christine, but it gave him the willies. Somehow, it doesn't “feel” right. He mulled over the things he has been sensing all evening. That's when he suddenly, instinctively, reached out and stopped Christine from opening the door. He motioned her to one side and opened it himself, making sure no sound would be made. Once inside, he pulled her in and switched the lights on. Christine reacted on instinct as well. In one swift move, from surprise to battle ready, she had her gun out and barked like the trained cop she was:

“HOLY SHIT! HANDS UP! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!!

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Time seemed to elongate for all three of them and each moved as in slow motion. In truth, it did!

Max was caught in a half-crouch - getting up- and was positioned in a way much like a martial arts stance, though neither of them could figure out the style.

Christine had her gun drawn and aimed right at Quaylen's head.

Richard's eyes had narrowed briefly since this all began. He remained silent, his hands still on the switch. But this did not mean he couldn't act fast enough. All in all, it was a stalemate.

When they knew the crisis was past. All three looked at each other warily. With the two never knowing what it was that Richard did for the past few seconds. Max was the first to come out of it with a well-placed compliment to them.

“Well,” Max began. “Got to hand it to you both, you're one of the rare bunch who's been able to sneak up on me like that. I must have been too engrossed with studying the evidence that made this “home as sweet as hell in a home”.”

“And how do we know you didn't do it yourself?” Christine said; the gun still unwaveringly aimed at the man's head. “You could be one of those perps who like coming back for a second taste.”

“He didn't do it.” Surprised at himself for saying this as it surprised all of them that he said it. Richard walked up to Quaylen and studied the man up close. Then like a brief flash of insight, he made a guess. “You're hunting whatever did this aren't you?”

“WHAT!” Christine exclaimed. Looking at Richard to see if he grew another head and turned to the new guy and saw that what Richard said unnerved the man enough to make him pale a shade this side of death.

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How the… Quaylen was more than worried that whatever did this was still on the loose, now he's got a damn mind reader on his butt. Just who and what IS this guy anyhow? -The cop's boyfriend? Trouble like this, he didn't want or need right now. He returned the look Richard gave him and studied the man in front of him. Average looking on the outside but not quite on the inside. The guy even “smelled” dangerous to him. Man, do I wish I'd rather be at the beach right now. A vacation or early retirement is better than having to deal with this crap. Both men stood and observed each other up close. When Max knew that the guy wasn't even willing to start a new conversation, he sighed loudly and began it himself.

“He's right. My name is Maxwell Quaylen, and I am sort of a hunter.” He said, and gestured towards the bloodstained wall. “An old friend of mine asked me to look in on this, on his behalf.”

"I'm Detective Christine Cherolton, and this is Richard Todd. What are you? A private investigator?” Christine asked, curious as to why Richard was still silent and hoped that he's right about this Quaylen character.

“Not exactly.” was the cool reply. “Someone close to him recently died, and so he was concerned about the rest of these murders. Asked me a favor of looking into it.” Quaylen lied, but it was technically correct since the priest looked as if somebody DID kill his best friend. And wondered for the millionth time why his life was as always, perverse enough to grant him a piece of hell every so often. It's not as if he didn't want this, but life was not about to give him a reprieve for his duties.

Of all things considered, their conversation was getting them nowhere - at least until both men shuddered as if they were given a jolt of pure ten thousand volts of electricity. Richard could sense that Max felt whatever he felt as well, and whatever “it” was - it had all the signs of foreboding danger. Max seemed to sniff the air and pointed northwards, away from the house and through the night-leaden streets.

“You felt it too?” Max asked. Seeing Richard nod in agreement, gestured again towards the city and took off at a dead run to his car outside. Richard followed, knowing at that moment that both of their unspoken question lay where the feeling was telling them to go.

What in the hell? Christine thought both guys looked like they just had a major brain seizure and was even more confused (and a little more than shocked) as both men jumped and ran out as if their lives depended on it. Wanting to get answers from both of them, she tore after them as well, yelling for them to explain what in hell just happened to them.

“Get in the car!” Was all the two ever said, with Max Pointing at his car across the street. Max got in and took the wheel, then looked over at Richard and asked as he drove pell-mell. “What the heck are you anyway? I only thought no one other than myself could pick up those kind of heebee-jeebies.”

“Long story,” Richard replied. “One thing at a time, though. First, we have to stop whoever or whatever is doing this - then we talk. There'll be time enough for all the chitchat later when this is all over. I just hope we won't have to arrive for another dead body, seeing one like that is enough. For now, just drive!”

Quaylen just grunted assent and rode through a red light and turned, causing the car to nearly lift on its side as he took the corner at an almost ninety degree angle. He tore through traffic like a maniac and rode up the wrong service ramp to the freeway. Richard just gritted his teeth and checked up on Christine in the back seat, her eyes were wide and her complexion was a lot paler than usual. She just held on tight, her hands clutching the overhead grip, praying that she wouldn't have to lose -yet again- her dinner while waiting for the total maniac behind the wheel to stop driving the car like a race driver on steroids. Fish-tailing the car to swerve through the oncoming traffic, Max's eyes grew wide as the sensation returned in force and made him groan as he felt like being pummeled by raw lightning. Finding the will to concentrate past the pain, he floored the accelerator and goosed all the speed available to him by the car. Richard was having more success in throttling the searing pain, appearing to show no discomfort at all, he began to sort out what he was receiving.

OH CRUD! Richard suddenly realized what it was that he had just sensed. Now he knew! As the car neared another corner, he yelled. “Here! Get off the freeway here, go down four blocks and turn right.” Max complied, hoping to God the guy was right.

After more harrowing turns later, they came to a stop alongside a building, an old apartment high-rise complex actually. Todd was already halfway out of the car as he ran towards the building, which seemed to radiate in a different way in only he could discern. Quaylen yelled something he didn't hear and looked back to find Max colorfully swearing in a few languages deader than the dead-sea scrolls. Each briefly wondered about his unknown ally's true nature and origin, as both men stormed towards the door. Christine followed shakily from the rear, silently refusing the urge to kiss the solid, stable ground after the car ride from hell. In one swift movement, she had her gun out and her demeanor from totally dizzy to totally “cop” kicked in and hurried to catch up with them. On a count of three, they crashed through the door without so much as a warning and looked around.

Max sniffed the air again and his eyes took a grim cast. The killer's still here, and it knows we can sense it! Damn! He motioned to Richard that he was going through the south-wing hallway and that he should take the west wing, which prompted Christine to go up the stairs in the middle of the hallway. And with each one of them praying that they weren't too late to do anything at all.

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The thing stopped in mid-slash and cocked whatever it called for a head to one side, listening with non-existing ears. It smiled with rows of teeth very much like a shark's glinting as moonlight struck it through the darkness. How it loved more and more to kill. It was not afraid at all by the newcomers, in fact, it got more excited that there will be more to kill.

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Christine just entered the second floor landing, and already she could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise. She strode forward through the first hallway she came to and opened the first door on the right, expecting to be attacked any minute.

She was.

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Return


	Part 2 Richard and Christine ate dinner later that night and he changed to more comfortable clothes and decided to head back to the crime scene. Richard began to have this funny look on his face when he neared the house. He didn't want to mention it to Christine, but it gave him the willies. Somehow, it doesn't “feel” right. He mulled over the things he has been sensing all evening. That's when he suddenly, instinctively, reached out and stopped Christine from opening the door. He motioned her to one side and opened it himself, making sure no sound would be made. Once inside, he pulled her in and switched the lights on. Christine reacted on instinct as well. In one swift move, from surprise to battle ready, she had her gun out and barked like the trained cop she was: “HOLY SHIT! HANDS UP! YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!! ------------------------------------------ Time seemed to elongate for all three of them and each moved as in slow motion. In truth, it did! Max was caught in a half-crouch - getting up- and was positioned in a way much like a martial arts stance, though neither of them could figure out the style. Christine had her gun drawn and aimed right at Quaylen's head. Richard's eyes had narrowed briefly since this all began. He remained silent, his hands still on the switch. But this did not mean he couldn't act fast enough. All in all, it was a stalemate. When they knew the crisis was past. All three looked at each other warily. With the two never knowing what it was that Richard did for the past few seconds. Max was the first to come out of it with a well-placed compliment to them. “Well,” Max began. “Got to hand it to you both, you're one of the rare bunch who's been able to sneak up on me like that. I must have been too engrossed with studying the evidence that made this “home as sweet as hell in a home”.” “And how do we know you didn't do it yourself?” Christine said; the gun still unwaveringly aimed at the man's head. “You could be one of those perps who like coming back for a second taste.” “He didn't do it.” Surprised at himself for saying this as it surprised all of them that he said it. Richard walked up to Quaylen and studied the man up close. Then like a brief flash of insight, he made a guess. “You're hunting whatever did this aren't you?” “WHAT!” Christine exclaimed. Looking at Richard to see if he grew another head and turned to the new guy and saw that what Richard said unnerved the man enough to make him pale a shade this side of death. ------------------------------------------ How the… Quaylen was more than worried that whatever did this was still on the loose, now he's got a damn mind reader on his butt. Just who and what IS this guy anyhow? -The cop's boyfriend? Trouble like this, he didn't want or need right now. He returned the look Richard gave him and studied the man in front of him. Average looking on the outside but not quite on the inside. The guy even “smelled” dangerous to him. Man, do I wish I'd rather be at the beach right now. A vacation or early retirement is better than having to deal with this crap. Both men stood and observed each other up close. When Max knew that the guy wasn't even willing to start a new conversation, he sighed loudly and began it himself. “He's right. My name is Maxwell Quaylen, and I am sort of a hunter.” He said, and gestured towards the bloodstained wall. “An old friend of mine asked me to look in on this, on his behalf.” "I'm Detective Christine Cherolton, and this is Richard Todd. What are you? A private investigator?” Christine asked, curious as to why Richard was still silent and hoped that he's right about this Quaylen character. “Not exactly.” was the cool reply. “Someone close to him recently died, and so he was concerned about the rest of these murders. Asked me a favor of looking into it.” Quaylen lied, but it was technically correct since the priest looked as if somebody DID kill his best friend. And wondered for the millionth time why his life was as always, perverse enough to grant him a piece of hell every so often. It's not as if he didn't want this, but life was not about to give him a reprieve for his duties. Of all things considered, their conversation was getting them nowhere - at least until both men shuddered as if they were given a jolt of pure ten thousand volts of electricity. Richard could sense that Max felt whatever he felt as well, and whatever “it” was - it had all the signs of foreboding danger. Max seemed to sniff the air and pointed northwards, away from the house and through the night-leaden streets. “You felt it too?” Max asked. Seeing Richard nod in agreement, gestured again towards the city and took off at a dead run to his car outside. Richard followed, knowing at that moment that both of their unspoken question lay where the feeling was telling them to go. What in the hell? Christine thought both guys looked like they just had a major brain seizure and was even more confused (and a little more than shocked) as both men jumped and ran out as if their lives depended on it. Wanting to get answers from both of them, she tore after them as well, yelling for them to explain what in hell just happened to them. “Get in the car!” Was all the two ever said, with Max Pointing at his car across the street. Max got in and took the wheel, then looked over at Richard and asked as he drove pell-mell. “What the heck are you anyway? I only thought no one other than myself could pick up those kind of heebee-jeebies.” “Long story,” Richard replied. “One thing at a time, though. First, we have to stop whoever or whatever is doing this - then we talk. There'll be time enough for all the chitchat later when this is all over. I just hope we won't have to arrive for another dead body, seeing one like that is enough. For now, just drive!” Quaylen just grunted assent and rode through a red light and turned, causing the car to nearly lift on its side as he took the corner at an almost ninety degree angle. He tore through traffic like a maniac and rode up the wrong service ramp to the freeway. Richard just gritted his teeth and checked up on Christine in the back seat, her eyes were wide and her complexion was a lot paler than usual. She just held on tight, her hands clutching the overhead grip, praying that she wouldn't have to lose -yet again- her dinner while waiting for the total maniac behind the wheel to stop driving the car like a race driver on steroids. Fish-tailing the car to swerve through the oncoming traffic, Max's eyes grew wide as the sensation returned in force and made him groan as he felt like being pummeled by raw lightning. Finding the will to concentrate past the pain, he floored the accelerator and goosed all the speed available to him by the car. Richard was having more success in throttling the searing pain, appearing to show no discomfort at all, he began to sort out what he was receiving. OH CRUD! Richard suddenly realized what it was that he had just sensed. Now he knew! As the car neared another corner, he yelled. “Here! Get off the freeway here, go down four blocks and turn right.” Max complied, hoping to God the guy was right. After more harrowing turns later, they came to a stop alongside a building, an old apartment high-rise complex actually. Todd was already halfway out of the car as he ran towards the building, which seemed to radiate in a different way in only he could discern. Quaylen yelled something he didn't hear and looked back to find Max colorfully swearing in a few languages deader than the dead-sea scrolls. Each briefly wondered about his unknown ally's true nature and origin, as both men stormed towards the door. Christine followed shakily from the rear, silently refusing the urge to kiss the solid, stable ground after the car ride from hell. In one swift movement, she had her gun out and her demeanor from totally dizzy to totally “cop” kicked in and hurried to catch up with them. On a count of three, they crashed through the door without so much as a warning and looked around. Max sniffed the air again and his eyes took a grim cast. The killer's still here, and it knows we can sense it! Damn! He motioned to Richard that he was going through the south-wing hallway and that he should take the west wing, which prompted Christine to go up the stairs in the middle of the hallway. And with each one of them praying that they weren't too late to do anything at all. ------------------------------------------ The thing stopped in mid-slash and cocked whatever it called for a head to one side, listening with non-existing ears. It smiled with rows of teeth very much like a shark's glinting as moonlight struck it through the darkness. How it loved more and more to kill. It was not afraid at all by the newcomers, in fact, it got more excited that there will be more to kill. ------------------------------------------ Christine just entered the second floor landing, and already she could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise. She strode forward through the first hallway she came to and opened the first door on the right, expecting to be attacked any minute. She was. -0-0-0-0-0- next page Return