As he pulled into his apartment complex, he was almost taken aback by how different it looked. The walls had been washed and repainted ghostly white, decorated by hanging plants every ten feet between doors. He shook his head, completely aghast at what he was seeing.
Am I in the right place?
It hadn't been too long since he'd been here, but long enough. The memories began to flood back, but he pushed them from his mind. It was done. He wanted nothing more than to move on. He found himself considering the offer he'd been given only hours before. It was a bit of a leap, but perhaps it might be his path forward after all. He'd certainly need some time to mull it over, along with everything else. Nothing had changed there. He was still as quiet and thoughtful in the eyes of others as he'd always been, especially in recent months.
He parked his car and walked cautiously up to his door. There was a piece of paper taped on it. He pulled it off and read it.
You're late on your rent. I'm going to need it by the end of the week, or else I'll have to kick you out. You can give it to me tomorrow.
Delia.
P.S. I decided to give plants a try. I think I like them.
He chuckled, turning to look at the plants that hung from their hooks, leaves fluttering in the cool breeze. In a way, they did seem to add a sense of life to the otherwise dull atmosphere.
He took his key out of his pocket and inserted it into the lock. He felt the stubborn lock fight against his hand before giving way and the door swung open. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, whether he was going to stay for a few more months or leave the next day. He had no clue, but at the moment, his energy was gone. All he wanted was to lay down somewhere and sleep.
As he looked up from the doorway, he nearly jumped upon noticing a woman standing in his living room with her back to him, gazing off into the distance. Upon hearing the door close, she turned to face him.
"Am I intruding?" she asked sweetly, her beaming smile sending mixed signals to his brain.
"No," he said calmly. "Not at all."
"Good," she said, sitting down on the couch, "because there's one last thing we need to talk about."
The sun was setting when he stepped out of his car, casting an orange glow on the sleepy town. He took a second to admire the view. He hadn't really had the time to do so lately with how busy he'd been. Even now, after everything was hopefully over, he was being called in to investigate something that had been found in the burning wreckage. He'd been told that it was...unusual, to say the least.
The lab contained three detectives, all of whom were gathered around a table, hovering over something and arguing amongst themselves. When they looked up and saw him enter, they backed away.
"They just found it," one of them said. "It looks foreign, nothing like anything our guys have seen before."
He looked down at the jar containing a brown liquid. He reached down and picked up the jar to investigate further. The liquid was thick and murky, and even through the glass, he could detect a strong odor.
"Any indication of what it could be?" he asked.
"Negative," replied one of the detectives.
He continued examining it, racking his brain for possibilities, when he suddenly remembered something that he'd been told, a small detail that he'd originally overlooked. He set the jar down on the table as if it were contagious.
"I think we'll need to call in some professionals for this one," he said.
He watched almost hypnotically as the newest storm to come off of the lake raged outside, the heavy rain pounding against the window. Each flash of lightning gave him a flash image, a solid reminder of everything that had happened, both good and bad. It was humid. The storm was the more likely culprit, but he could've sworn that the heat had followed him.
As another flash lit up the night sky, he could faintly make out a silhouette against the clouds. It was tall and bulky, looking like it had to be at least eight feet tall. It could've just been his imagination, a trick of the brain, but he was also certain he saw a pair of white eyes glaring at him.
And then, out of nowhere came that familiar dark voice.
You realize I'm not done with you yet?
He felt the urge to scream in terror, as he no doubt would've done a week ago, but he didn't. Instead, a deep sense of indignation enveloped him. He was sick of being the victim, lost in a sea of deception and agony. He'd survived once and knew how the game worked and was more determined than ever to be stronger when and if he had to face the fire once again.
Yes, he thought, but next time, I'll be ready for you.
A loud snarl echoed inside his head, and then it was gone. He breathed a heavy sigh as he turned away from the window and drifted off to sleep.
A/N: And that's it! As I said at the beginning, this story is basically my idea of a potential fourth installment of the series that I hoped could better tie off the loose ends and incorporate Charlie's brother Sam into the picture given that he's been alive the entire time. Some of you may like it, others may not, but it's what I have to offer. I really hope you enjoyed reading it because I did enjoy writing it. And with that...take care and stay safe!
Check out my website for a full list of copyright info and credits. The link can be found on my profile.