Sam knocked on the door of the house next door to where the murder took place. He was dressed in a black suit with his hair combed. A man of about the age of 40 answered the door.
"Hi, I'm agent Downing," Sam said, quickly showing the man his fake badge.
"I'm not answering any more questions." And he shut the door. Just like that. Sam sighed and turned around, to see a lady standing on the porch across the street. She waved to him, so he made his way over to her.
"I'm sorry to hear about your neighbours," he said sincerely.
"Thank you. They were good friends of mine." She sat down on a wooden rocking chair and offered for him to sit down on the wooden bench across from it. He smiled and nodded.
"Were you awake when any of this happened?" He asked, sitting down.
"No. But the scream woke me up."
"Just one scream?"
"Yes. It was Cindy's. I thought nothing of it, maybe she just got spooked by something. You know. But then I looked out my window to see if I could see anything. And Samantha's window was open. Her screen was on the grass. That's when I called the police."
"I see. Samantha, she's the daughter?"
"Yes. But agent Downing, there's something very strange about all of this. They aren't saying the whole truth on the television."
Sam leaned forward, eager to hear what she had to say.
"The small bloody footprints… They don't lead anywhere."
"What do you mean they don't lead anywhere?"
"They start in front of Samantha's full length mirror in her bedroom. They make their way down the hall to the parents' room, and go back to the mirror. That's it."
"That's strange."
"Yes. Very strange."
"Does anyone know where Samantha is now?"
"Her and her brother are at their grandparents'."
"Do you know where they live?"
Sam knocked on the door and fixed his hair in the reflection of the window. He decided he was going to be Sam this time. Not some phony agent. Sam. A phony agent couldn't help with something like this. Sam could. A girl around the age of 17 or 18 opened the door without smiling.
"Hi. Um, are you Samantha?" He asked.
"Sam. And you are?"
He paused, thought for a second. "Sam."
"What?"
"No, uh, that's my name. I'm Sam, too."
"Oh. Cool." She leaned her head against the side of the door. "Do you know my grandparents or something?"
"No, I was actually hoping to talk to you… about…"
"My mom and dad?"
Sam nodded.
"Well if I tell you, you're just going to think I'm crazy."
"But that's why I'm here. I'll believe anything you tell me. I want to find out what happened. And stop it from happening again."
"I don't think so."
"I want to help you, Sam."
"You just want to put me away."
"No. Listen. My brother and I… We're… demon hunters. We hunt evil supernatural spirits and get rid of them."
"You think it was something supernatural that killed my parents?"
"I don't know yet. You haven't told me what happened."
Samantha stepped outside and shut the door. She bit her lip and looked around the street, and back through the windows of the house. "Let's take a walk."
They went to a diner downtown and got some burgers. Sam paid. They were halfway through their food and still hadn't said anything to each other. Sam took a sip of his coke. He looked at the ring of water it had made on the table, and placed his cup back over top of it. Finally Samantha spoke up.
"I was supposed to start college in the fall, but I don't think I can, now."
"I'm really sorry. About what happened to your parents. I really am. And, well, I've lost some people close to me, too. I know how it feels. I never even knew my mother, she died when I was a baby. And my girlfriend… She died too."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. We're here for you, right?"
Samantha stirred the ice around her cup of sprite with her finger. "I guess." She put her finger in her mouth and licked the sprite from it, before wiping it on a napkin. She looked at Sam and tried to smile but it was too painful. Both of her parents were gone and there was nothing she could do about it. Her bottom lip started to quiver, so she looked down so Sam wouldn't see. He reached his arm across the table and grabbed onto her hand. She squeezed it, as she quietly sobbed.
"Hey, it's ok," Sam whispered.
"No, it's not ok. My parents are dead. They're dead!"
Some people in the diner turned and looked at them. Sam let go of her hand, and rested his chin in his palm.
Samantha let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's not like it's your fault." She opened her eyes and gasped. "It's my brother's fault!"
"What?"
"It's all his fault! His stupid laser beam!"
"Maybe you should start from the beginning."
She told him all about her brother and his friends. How they thing it's fun to wake people up at night with laser pointers. She told him how he pointed it in her room and how it bounced off her mirror.
"It was right there in my room, it's not like I couldn't have ran past it and told my parents: 'There's a devil girl who came out of my mirror and now she's in my room'. A freakin' devil girl came out of my mirror!"
"Kinda like bloody Mary."
"Except it wasn't in my bathroom and I didn't say turn around and say her name three times."
"Ya."
"So do you know what to do?"
"I need to do some research."
"Ew."
"Do you know where you got that mirror?"
"A garage sale last year."
"Do you remember where?"
"Are you kidding me? Only the coolest house there is."
