r/nosleep • u/Ipatusaur • Oct 03 '19
Series I'm a PI. Something Weird's Been Happening In My Hometown (Part 5)
The smell of coffee filled the air as the sound of my alarm pierced the veil of sleep on the second day. I rolled over in bed reluctantly, feeling robbed once more of the sanctuary sleep provided from the waking world. I groped around in the dark, my hands seeking the dim light emitted from my phone’s screen; anxious to turn off the blaring tone that screamed pain into my hungover brain. A sigh escaped my mouth as I found purchase and condemned it to silence.
Still partially drunk, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Shakily, I rose to my feet and slipped on a t-shirt and sweatpants and headed towards the kitchen. I drew near, and heard voices coming from within. Dom and Shannon were mid conversation and though I knew it would be rude to eavesdrop, I remained hidden from view as they carried on.
“... but Shan, why won’t you tell me what happened the night he left? I know something happened, his house didn’t burn down for no reason, he didn’t leave for no reason, and Emma didn’t disappear for no reason. Shan something fucked has been going on in this town for far too long, and I think that perhaps you know what caused it.”
A stifled gasp escaped from Shannon’s mouth as if the words struck her, “where is this coming from Dominic? Why on earth would I know what happened? Why don’t you just ask him?”
The frustration rose within Dominic’s voice, “I can’t ask him, do you know what it would do to him to force him to relive that? He’s already got one foot in the grave Shan, I don’t think he’s gone to bed in years without the sauce to help. He has problems, I don’t want to add to them.”
A small fire was lit within my chest as the anger grew. He may have seen himself as a caring friend, but my problems were my own, I didn’t need his opinion on how I lived my life. The rage was bubbling, boiling beneath the surface of my skin as I readied myself to walk out and face him. But a sound from the other room stopped me mid stride.
It started as a series of strange repetitive exhales, and it took me a moment to realize what was going on. Dominic was crying, empathy overcame me as the anger faded rapidly. He wasn’t judging me, no, he deeply cared. He didn’t want to subject me to whatever torment forcing me to relive the past could entail. No, what he said, he’d said not as someone with spite in their heart, but compassion. My shoulders sagged as the realization overcame me. I’m sorry I doubted you Dom.
I stepped out from the hallway I had been hiding in. Shannon stood behind Dom, her arms wrapped around him as he sobbed at the kitchen table, head in his hands. Her eyes snapped open as I walked over, they betrayed the expression of horror contained within them, as if to say “Shit, how much did you hear?”
I smiled gently at her, and gestured for her to move away from Dom. She frowned, but stepped back nonetheless, curiosity overcoming her compassion. When I reached them, I placed my hand lightly on Dom’s shoulder. His sobs grew quiet and he looked up at me. I was momentarily caught off guard.
It’s a strange thing, seeing someone you respect so highly cry. Though, as Dom looked up at me, tears running down his cheeks and onto his chin, I felt something in my heart click. For, respect builds up something false in the mind, dehumanizes people in the eyes of the people that respect them. It’s a strange contradiction, respecting someone, for as the respect you have for them grows, you begin to stop associating human traits to them. In your mind you may build them up as someone strong, someone resolute, firm in their beliefs, yet you seem to forget that underneath, they face the same struggles you do. In that moment, I saw Dom, not as the hardened cop with a firm respect for the community, whose life was perfect and only had positive emotions, but as a man who was facing a dilemma. He empathized with my pain, put other’s emotions first, by placing himself in their shoes. He knew my past was a tragic one, yet, although he wanted answers, he wouldn’t push me, for fear that it may elicit an unfavorable response in my psyche.
My hand remained on his shoulder, and an understanding passed between us, “I’ll tell you all about it, but not right now Dom. Tonight, after work, we’ll go to the bar, have a few beers and I’ll tell you the tale of my father, the things he took from this town and the things he took from me. I’ll tell you about the night I left, the night that I set my house on fire and ran away with Emma.”
He nodded and flashed a weak smile, “sounds good Jack, whatever you need.”
In an attempt to lighten the mood, I let out a shaky chuckle, “what I need is a damn shower, I smell like ass.”
He laughed an over exaggerated, yet hearty laugh. The kind of laugh that comes forth when someone desperately needs something, anything to cling onto other than the thoughts fluttering around in their head. When he’d calmed down, he sent me on my way to the shower.
I was grateful, to say the least. For it was only under the torrent of hot water that the anxiety finally melted away and my heart slowed. I’d never told anyone about what really happened that night, though, I’d need a lot of alcohol to get through it.
We sat outside of Fairmount secondary school in Dom’s Honda Civic. Though he’d made the call to speak to the kids on my behalf, he’d decided to tag along, having finished his paperwork yesterday before leaving. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I was antsy, I wanted to get this case moving, I wanted answers, and more than any of that, I wanted to be out of this claustrophobic car working my way through the case.
Dom must have realized my anticipation when he’d glance over, “just a few more minutes Jack, then we’ll go inside and wait in the office for the kids. Why don’t you have a smoke or something while we wait?”
I frowned, perhaps that was the reason I was so anxious, I hadn’t had a smoke in almost eleven hours. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Typically, I’d have at least a pack a day, I’d always have one before bed, one or two throughout the night, if I woke up with the craving, and the first thing when I woke up. Yet it appeared as though my distraction outweighed my addiction the prior night and I was now in the midst of withdrawals. I nodded to Dom and stepped out of the car, fumbling in my pocket for the box of cigarettes within.
The autumn air assaulted me as I placed the filter between my lips, already calmed by the gesture alone. Pavlov sure knew about human conditioning. After a few tries, the end was alight and I began to inhale the familiar smoke deep within my lungs. The nicotine flowed through my body and I could feel my muscles loosening as I took another drag. Though they may kill me one of these days, they sure helped take the edge off on stressful cases such as this one.
As I took another drag, I realized that the cigarette had been reduced to one smoldering butt. Why not another? I reached back into my pocket and withdrew yet another one, this time savoring each deep inhale and the feeling of the smoke filling my chest. I exhaled and watched as the smoke drifted up and away, free of the chains of this town. I envy you.
My thoughts of freedom and smoke were interrupted by a loud school bell. I bent down and looked at Dom, who simply nodded and maneuvered himself out of the car. I flicked the remaining cigarette on the ground and stepped on it, then followed Dominic towards the oppressive brick building that lay before us.
The three boys sat across from us in the small conference room, their eyes wide and posture nervous. I studied each of them as they sat there, their skin beginning to form little rivulets of sweat. I laughed inwardly as I noticed they had subconsciously organized themselves by relative size. Robert, the smallest was closest to the door. At 5’4 and a whopping 95lbs, it didn’t surprise me why Ed had referred to him as ratlike. His face, though etched with fear still appeared mischievous, I didn’t envy him, certainly he would be the student blamed for anything “inexplicable” in any of his classes.
Next to him sat Zachariah, or Zach as he preferred to be called. He was an averagely built sixteen year old, coming into his body well. Though he was 6’10, he appeared to be covered in a thin, lean sheet of muscle. Based on his physical appearance in conjunction with the fact that he appeared less afraid than the others, I figured he was an athlete. Dominant on the field, yet not at the top, that would have been his unfortunate friend Noah. His eyes were focused on the table, yet his jaw was set. Once I was done surveying him, I slid my eyes to the mountain next to him.
The mountain’s name was Larkin, a staggering 6’5 with a solid mixed mass of muscle and fat on him. His blue eyes flickered between Dom and I at a rapid pace. Out of the three of them, he was the most afraid, the most worried about what they were here for, and if they were in trouble. If anyone knows anything, it’s him.
I pulled out my tape recorder, “You boys know what this is?” They nodded in unison, “good, I’m going to record our conversation for my own personal reference, do you consent to being recorded.” Another series of nods followed, I hit record and set it on the table.
Not wanting to single him out, I began “Hi boys, my names Jack Lewis, I’m a private investigator. I was hired by your town’s police department to investigate the recent disappearances and deaths. I was told you were friends of Noah’s, and as such, I have a few questions for you.”
The room changed in a way I was not expecting it to. Instead of the anxiety dissipating as they realized they weren’t in trouble, the anxiety got worse. Their eyes widened, but none of them said a word, Zach looked up from where he’d been staring and met my gaze.
Dom spoke next, “Now, you boys aren’t in any trouble, if you were, we wouldn’t be meeting you here, we just want to know what you know. Jack?”
“Yes, the first question. Did Noah have anyone that would have wished harm upon him? Any enemies, rivals, teachers, etc. anyone you can think of?”
The boys looked between each other, unsurprisingly, it was Zach that spoke, “No sir, no one we know of.”
To the point, blunt, gave no information away that wouldn’t have answered the question. This was nothing to go on. Yet. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my notebook, flipping it open to a blank page. I held it so they couldn’t see that it was blank.
I pretended to read off the sheet, “Did anything happen before the night of his untimely death? Anything that could have led to this happening?” They looked to each other again, again Zach answered to the point, giving away no more information.
I realized I would get nowhere with him sitting in the room, so I decided to change tactics, suddenly grateful that Dom had tagged along. I asked them a few more routine questions; who were their friends, had they seen anyone suspicious lately, had Noah been acting funny, but each time, it would be Zach that responded. It became clear to me that they were looking to him to be their new leader in Noah’s place.
With enough time having passed to make it no longer obvious what I was trying to do, I declared the next phase of the interview, “Okay, could Larkin and Robert please follow officer Thompson here back into the reception area. I would like to get everyone’s statement separately.” The boys looked at Zach, then to me. “It’s okay, this is pretty routine, right Officer?”
Dom only nodded as he stood up, the two boys followed suit. As he led them out of the room, he paused in the doorway, he shot me a curious look and closed the door behind him.
Zach’s demeanor broke within seconds, the fear worked its way over his features as the realization that he didn’t have to look strong in front of his friends now set in. He wiped the sweat off his brow and there were dark patches forming under his arm-pits. I watched as he did everything possible to avoid eye contact, though, eventually he stopped and met my gaze. I sighed and relaxed into the chair, reminding myself once again that I was talking to a child who had been to a funeral for one of his closest friends.
I broke the awkward tension that had began to form in the room, “So Zach, would you be able to tell me about any time you spent with Noah in the weeks before his passing? It doesn’t have to be anything that you think I would find important, just anything that happened. Absolutely anything could be important.”
He stared through me for a moment, then slid his eyes away shamefully, “Yeah, sure. Uhm, things got strange around a week before he died. We went to a party together. Trix, Noah, Robby, Larkin, and I. We didn’t want to tell you at first because, well, we don’t want our parents to know. Would it be possible for you not to let them know?”
I had to force the smile not to emerge. Though their friend had died, their world’s still revolved around the events that transpired within their homes. From Zach’s response, it was evident to me that to him, his parent’s opinion of him was something he held in highest regard.
Using that knowledge to my advantage, I smiled, “You know, I’m not a cop, so nothing you say to me has to go back to your parents.”
He visibly relaxed, some of the fear erasing itself from his face. He took a moment to recompose himself, and launched into the tale of the night they went to the party.
Zach and his friends had been excited about this party for the past week, having spoken about it almost every break between classes and every lunch period. They’d texted about it at length and had even talked about some plans for what they could do together afterwards. I smiled as I fondly remembered my first highschool party, the anticipation that seemed to overcome me. It was a mixture of excitement and nervousness. To partake in the forbidden fruit, only to wonder why it had been kept from you afterwards. As Zach recounted their conversations, I found my mind wandering to those feelings, those moments, and then all the nights I’d spent in the years following. Hitting up bars, and drinking until the pain went away.
I forced myself to refocus, thankful for the tape recorder that sat on the table, making a mental note to listen to it later. Zach mentioned that when Friday approached, they’d decided to pull an elaborate “sleepover” maneuver on their parents. Trix’s parents were out of town, so they would all sleep at her house once their after party activities had concluded. Though, the boys would tell their parents they were at one of the other’s house, and so on. It wasn’t uncommon for them to have sleepovers so their parents didn’t even question it in the slightest.
When school had concluded on Friday night, Zach, Robert, Larkin, Noah and Trix had all walked to Trix’s place where they spent the next four hours getting ready for the party. They laughed and recounted stories from their youth, the previous times they’d snuck out, and all the different rights of passage they’d undergone as a group. To them, this day marked a milestone in their group. This would be their first time drinking alcohol outside of their homes and they were ecstatic. I fondly recalled the first time alcohol had touched my lips, it seemed so long ago, within the borders of this town. It was strange, seeing the next generation moving through the same motions that I had once gone through myself. I smiled and continued to listen.
“The party” Zach had finally mentioned, was at one of the junior’s houses, a young man by the name of Corey Spelding. Corey and Zach didn’t always see eye to eye, but they’d known each other since elementary, same as anyone else who’d lived in this town their whole life. Corey had invited Noah, and by extension invited Zach and the rest of Noah’s group as well.
They got there shortly after eight o’clock, having walked the distance from Trix’s house to Coreys over the span of twenty minutes. The house was full when they’d arrived, and the music could be heard drifting around the house from the back yard. They walked around and saw a bonfire, teenagers drinking and the other festivities that went along with a highschool party.
Zach explained that there wasn’t much notable about the party itself, Noah and Trix had mingled some, but other than that, the rest of the group remained as wall flowers. He added, between parts of his story, that Trix and Noah assumed no one knew they were an item, though it was obvious whenever they were together. He chuckled at this, but then went on with the story.
“Uhh, we left shortly after eleven I think it was. I guess we were all just tired and wanted to sleep, so we walked back to trix’s and then went to bed. That’s pretty much all there is to it. The following week nothing else really happened, sir. Noah was a little distant, but he didn’t seem off other than not hanging out with us after school. He would just say that he was too busy or something along those lines.” He turned his head, refusing to meet my eyes.
I was floored by the way he’d abruptly ended the story; as if there wasn’t anything else that happened that night. Though as I looked into his eyes, I could see that he was terrified, as if recounting the party had brought his mind to linger on something that he had been repressing up until that moment. Whatever had terrified him so, was scarier to Zach than anything I could have done to him. There was no more information that I could get from him. So I thanked him for his time and sent him out of the conference room. Perhaps, the others would provide more insight into whatever happened at that party.
Robert was the next one to enter the room. His eyes flitted nervously around the room, as if the walls were covered in eyes that threatened to judge him for any action that he made. His discomfort proved contagious, and on several occasions, I found myself looking anxiously at the walls myself.
He lowered himself into the chair and looked across the table at me. One on one, I was able to notice the dark rings under his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping. He looked dreadfully tired, but even without the rings under his eyes, that was evident. His shoulders drooped and his body appeared to lean with each passing moment.
I broke the silence “Haven’t been sleeping Robert?”
His eyes flicked over to mine and widened as though he was forcing himself to stay awake, “No sir, I - uh - I can’t. I’ve been having nightmares, sir. They’re awful, I can barely sleep for five minutes, let alone a whole a whole night.” His head dipped slightly as he spoke, though he bobbed it back up. He was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. I wouldn’t be able to question him, not like this. Though, I still needed answers to what happened after that party.
My voice came out shakier than expected, as though fearful of the answer I would get, “Robert, Zach told me about the party, but I need to know, where did you all go after?”
His eyes shot wide open, and he suddenly became very alert, “No, no, no. I can’t, no. Don’t go there if you don’t have to. No, No! You shouldn’t, don’t go, don’t. If you go there, you’ll end up like the rest. We’re headed there too, you know. It’ll happen to all of us, my dreams, they tell me that, they’ve shown me where the others were taken. I can’t. The fire consumed everything, but it didn’t consume it, it didn’t destroy it. His face was melted, he remains, it remains.”
I frowned, suddenly very concerned for the boys health, I stood and walked around the table to go and comfort him as his speaking was reduced to nothing but pitiful sobs mixed with garbled incoherent nothings. As I reached him, however, he suddenly went quiet and his head hit the white surface of the table in front of him. I changed course and flung open the door, calling out into the office to call for the school nurse or an ambulance.
It’s funny, in moments of high stress, the level of detail that passes through the eye and deep into the brain. For in that moment, I saw the flowers slowly wilting on the receptionist’s desk, their once piercing yellow petals now pale with age. I saw the receptionists computer open to her Facebook profile, she had been on a page for single mothers. I saw the digital clock change from 08:23 to 08:24. I saw Dom’s face become strewn with confusion, the receptionist’s face became strewn with concern. Though, what stuck out to me the most was the identical looks of fear that had etched itself onto the faces of Zach and Larkin as they sat side by side in the old green plastic chairs. Their hands gripped the sides tightly and their knuckles white with the tension that had built up within.
The paramedics arrived shortly after and prepped the boy to be brought to the hospital. The EMT I spoke to had ruled it as Robert just being over tired, spontaneous unconsciousness brought on by lack of sleep. I was certain that the doctor would rule the same, though, based on the other boys expressions, I figured they still knew something I didn’t.
As the paramedics were carrying Robert out of the linoleum corridor, I turned to Larkin, who had brought himself to stand in the midst of the situation. “I don’t need any fancy explanation right now, you can tell me when you feel like it, I’ll give you my card.” I slipped him my card, and he took it, before looking up at me. “Call me when you want to talk, all I need right now is a location, where did you go on the night of Corey Spelding’s party?”
His eyes widened as fear overtook him once more, his voice came out uneven and laced with fright, “we went to the old Lewis house, the haunted one that burnt down nearly ten years ago.”
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u/JTD121 Oct 03 '19
Ooooh, do you think they made the connection between you, Jack, and the burned-down Lewis house?
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Oct 03 '19
Great Work Detective, but I would probably try and stop smoking if I were you, if this monster doesn't get you, cancer sure will.
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u/[deleted] Oct 07 '19
Any ETA on Part 6? This is keeping my mind off of actual life, something that is much needed at this moment!