Chapter Twenty Two

"By the way, if you stayed overnight, where's your car? And how come you're dressed like that?"

I turned to look at Dexter. He was dressed in a brown thermal, unusual for someone living in this area. It was stained with blood, if only slightly, a few specks here and there. He wore heavy cargo pants, his brown steel toes' laced tightly on his feet. And, if I'm not mistaken, a pair of black latex gloves peeked out of his left pocket.

"Abel picked me up. And I don't know, thought I'd change first."

"But you said you drove," Deb said, frowning.

Dexter's brows furrowed in frustration. "Look, it doesn't matter. I'm here. You found me. I'll be in work tomorrow."

She sighed. "Fine. I'm gonna go home. I'll see you at work tomorrow. You better come up with a good excuse for this shit, Dex," she said as she walked back up the basement stairs.

She left the house, shutting the door quickly behind her.

"Holy fucking hell," Abel sighed. "I thought she was never gonna leave."

"Yeah, I know," Cole said. "I thought she was never going to leave. Where is his car, actually?"

"In the garage."

"How?"

"I called in a favor," Abel said calmly.

I threw myself back onto the couch. "Let me guess; Nikolai?"

He nodded.

"Well, now that we're all here…why not discuss what we saw at the school?" I suggested. "Both Dexter and Cole were outside. I was inside the building, though I didn't have access to much."

"All that I saw while outside, were the numerous detectives scattered about the courtyard." He paused for a moment. "No. actually, I saw them bringing bodies out. They were on the gurneys. It was a few minutes before I had text you."

"What bodies did you see?" Dexter asked flatly.

Cole's eyes narrowed slightly. "The ones they pulled out of the school…?" He said slowly. "The bodies were removed through the service entrance."

"There were no bodies in the school."

"How? I swear the bags were, or at least looked, filled."

"They were opened and placed onto the stretchers to make the removal easier, but there were no bodies to be removed. The entire office was empty. The only thing there, was blood. And a lot of it," he said.

"Impossible…the body bags looked filled," Cole muttered.

I yawned. "Well, there were no bodies. Along with any record of the principal signing in that day."

"Didn't you see anyone?"

"The secretaries and Ms. Cameron. Those are the only ones I saw."

"And you didn't check the sign-in sheets?"

"No, Cole, I didn't. I hadn't assumed this was going to take place." I leaned on the arm of the couch and rest my chin in my hand. I looked at Abel. "Aside from Nikolai, are there any other Brothers?"

"In the school? I'm not sure," he said, scratching his chin. "You'll have to ask him."

"I will. Another thing-Dexter, are you familiar with an Officer Parks?"

"I don't know him personally, but I've seen him a few times. Why?"

"When my class was escorted out of the building, Officer Parks and a…Detective Batista, were with us. Something seemed off about him."

"Do you think he could have anything to do with this?"

"I'm not sure. I'm just saying something wasn't quite right about the man. Was he at the school before you had arrived?"

Dexter shrugged. "Might have been. If I'm not mistaken, he does security every now and then for the schools in the area. Although, I'm not positive if he was at the school beforehand."

"And you know this how?" Cole asked.

"I work with cops. I hear them talk."

The room became silence once more. This time, without the threat of being caught. We all sat there, searching for the right words to say, unsure of what to say next. Cole sat down across from me on top of the coffee table. Abel and Dexter followed suit, taking a seat on the couch next to me. Dexter awkwardly squished in between Abel and I. I moved over, allowing him room to breathe. He smiled briefly, offering his thanks.

Another painfully silent moment passed before Cole spoke up. "So, I'm going to assume he knows why he's here?"

Abel nodded slowly. "He does. Alexi and I explained everything to him before. Did you happen to tell him anything else?"

"Yes, actually, I did," I said, clearing my throat. "I told him that he'll have to, of course, abide by our rules. And despite that, he'll still be able to choose his own kills."

"But, he'll have to make a file for each kill, something he's not used to. We're going to need more record than the blood slides in your air conditioner," Abel smiled.

Dexter's jaw dropped slightly.

"I had to search your apartment. It was protocol," he said. "Don't act like you've never done it. Anyway, let's go upstairs. It's hot as fuck down here."

The four of us ascended the stairs, leaving the humid basement. Once in the kitchen, I rifled through the fridge, removing two bottles of water; I handed one to Dexter, and took one for myself. Dexter quickly opened the bottle, tossing the plastic cap onto the table. He lifted the bottle to his lips and drained its contents. He placed the empty bottle onto the table beside it's cap.

He looked at me. "I was only down there overnight, right?"

"Yes, overnight. But you were only out for a few hours. Why do you ask?"

"I feel like I've been down there for days. What sedative was used on me, anyway?"

"Etorphine hydrochloride," I said.

"Hmm. Same one I use," he said, pursing his lips. "How did you manage to get a hold of that?"

"We have ties. Any of us could get whatever we want, whether it be weapons, or deadly poisons." Abel answered. He pulled a bag of chips from the cabinet and held the bag out to Dexter. He shook his head. "No? Alright. You're going to have to eat sometime, though."

"He's the same way with me," I snickered, "a pushy little boy."

Dexter grinned. "I'll be fine, thanks. I ate after work yesterday."

"That was hours ago, but okay," Abel sighed. "Eh, there's food here if you want any. Now, when are you going back to work?"

"Tomorrow, most likely. Or whenever they call me in." Dexter turned to me. "Do you still need to question me anymore, or no?"

"No, I have enough information. More questions than answers, but I suppose I'll find out more over time."

"You'll just need to keep her updated on anything. New leads, anything of the sort. After all, she was the one that was supposed to kill the guidance counselor anyway."

"Yeah…supposed to," I muttered. "If anything, find out as much as you can on the faculty. As well as security."

Dexter blinked.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know…it just baffles me that you're just a kid, and already you're a killer."

"I think you come from a similar background though, don't you? Killing from a very young age," Abel noted.

He nodded.

"You'll get used to seeing it, I guess. You'll be surprised at how many people my age are trained killers. Hell, you'll be surprised at just how many people alone are a part of the Brotherhood. Even your doctor could be one of us," I chuckled.

"Do you get paid for each hit?"

"I wish," the three of us said simultaneously, laughing at the question. I continued speaking. "If we did, we'd all be rich by now. But, no, we do not get paid. This is something we were born into, trained to do. Killing is in our blood."

Dexter nodded. "I understand that."

"So, you see this is more of a passion, an obsession in some ways, rather than just a side job."

"Yes. I completely understand."

"Good. Then you will continue to kill at your normal rate. Just alert us as to when you plan to kill again, where the kill will take place…and if you need any help."

"I'm not sure when my next kill will be. But as far as my most recent one, I'm sure you know how that ended."

"The body was dismembered and disposed of. The area was cleaned, thoroughly," Abel said.

"How did you get rid of the body?"

"Tossed the body into an abandoned car near the junkyard,. Once the car is compacted, there is nothing to worry about."

"How weren't you seen? The junkyards are usually well surveilled."

"Oh, I know. But, a friend owns the junkyard, I can come and go as I please," Abel said. "He usually helps with getting rid of the bodies. He runs a clean-up crew."

"You don't clean up after yourselves?"

"We do. Every single one of us does. But, sometimes, on a high profile assignment, we don't have time to stick around and clean. We need to kill and leave. So they assist with the clean up when we need the help. And before you ask, it's all for free. We help each other out."

"I guess there are benefits to being one of you," Dexter noted.

"Yes, yes there are. You can finally be open and honest. And you have a…family, in a way, to help you."

The word 'family' seemed to strike Dexter. The man calmed down, became more secure in our presence. Although, it would indeed be a while before his walls were fully broken down.

"So, who are you, Dexter?" Abel asked, leaning over the kitchen table.

The question puzzled him. "What do you mean?"

Able rolled his eyes. "Who are you? Truly."

Dexter hesitated. "I…I'm a serial killer." He sighed heavily.

"Feel good being able to admit that to someone other than yourself? Or your kills?"

"Yeah, it does," he said. "It's like a weight is being lifted off of my shoulders."

"And knowing you won't be turned away for it?"

"Feels just as good."

"I'm glad."

Cole stretched his arms, his bones cracking loudly as he did so. "I think we could all use some downtime. Am I wrong?"

"No," I said.

"Good. TV?" He asked.

We nodded in agreement and followed Cole into the living room.

Cole stopped dead in his tracks, and turned, enraged at the site before him. He slammed his fist into the wall, shattering the thin dry wall. Chips of paint and dust sprayed out from the point of impact. Cole repeatedly hit the wall, until his hand struck a wooden beam, the wood threatening to crack under the force of his blows. He pulled his hand away, his knuckles bloodied and broken. We stared at him in awe, utterly confused by his sudden display of rage. Cole stared at the floor, his face reddening, body convulsing.

Abel stepped forward tentatively, afraid to approach his younger brother. He reached out to touch Cole's shoulder, a vain attempt to calm him, but quickly withdrew his arm.

"Cole, what's wrong?"

A rustling of the leather on the couch made clear what had angered Cole. I pushed past the two brothers into the living room and stopped. I stared at the couch, anger rising in me, much faster than the panic, which sat like a brick in the pit of my stomach.

I drew in a ragged breath and tried to contain myself, before I gave into my anger much like Cole foolishly had. I needed to maintain a level of composure before I snapped. The stress from the previous day, and now this surely would make me lose control. I breathed deeply, centering myself, my mind, before speaking.

I took a step forward, inching toward the couch. I shook my head feverishly, glaring ahead of me. "You're fucked."

I glared at Cole. "Tell me why this shit just keeps fucking adding on. Tell me why you couldn't take care of your motherfucking problem."

"I thought there was nothing to deal with. I thought it had all been taken care of," he said gruffly, his body shaking.

"Well obviously fucking not, huh?" I said, waving my hand toward the couch.

Abel leaned against the wall, silent.

Dexter hadn't moved, the situation paralyzing him with fear.

The two men left us to handle this. They have yet to move since they entered the living room after Cole and I.

"What the fuck are we going to do, now?"

"The only option is death," I said.

Dexter woke from his trance, approaching me slowly. "Death?"

"Yes," I said, looking him in the eye. "It is the only option."

"It can't be."

"You know we cannot risk anyone finding out. Secrecy is of the utmost importance. And if death will protect us, then death is the final verdict."

Dexter appeared conflicted, the choice between helping or going against us a difficult one to make. He frowned deeply. He glanced over at the couch, riddled with sadness. "I'm sorry," his apology the only words he could muster.

I smiled at him despite the anger. "You are very loyal."

"Unfortunately," he mumbled, the response nearly inaudible.