Chapter 4:
Sandra pulled up in front of Nathaniel Williams's apartment and killed the engine.
"According to past arrest records, Nathaniel hasn't displayed violent tendencies, but is prone to mental fits. So I we all need to keep that in mind when questioning him," said Norman, before taking off his ARI. He was more speaking to Blake than anyone else.
Blake, who was in the passenger seat, simply rolled his eyes as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "You'd be surprised what people are capable of, Jayden. Especially wackos who think they're acting in the name of the Lord."
Sandra said nothing as she, stepped out of the car and into the rain. She didn't really care to share her opinion.
It just figured that Blake had to be there, she thought. He had caught the two of them just as they were heading out and there was no getting around having him tag along. He was her superior and neither she or Norman had any choice in the matter.
The two men exited the car and followed Sandra up the broken concrete steps of the building and into the cramped lobby. They had been in the downpour for less than a minute and were already halfway soaked.
Sandra checked the names on the mailboxes in the entryway, finding the one that had Nathaniel's name on it.
"He's in apartment 211," she said.
The three of them headed up the stairs to the second floor. When they reached the door with the numbers 211 nailed to the front, Norman knocked loudly. After a moment with no answer, he knocked again with the same result.
"No one's home. We wasted our time coming here." Said Norman, ready to turn around and head back to the car.
"Let's just have a little look inside anyway," Blake said approaching the door.
"How? There's nobody home," Norman pointed out.
Blake squared up in front of the door, about to kick it in, when Sandra shot in front of him and pushed him backwards. Blake stumbled into the stair railing behind him.
"Don't even think about it," Sandra snapped.
"What the fuck are we supposed to do then? Leave empty handed?" Blake snarled at her as he rubbed the spot where his tailbone hit the bannister. "Move out of my fucking way, Sandra."
"Just hold on," Sandra insisted as she pulled out her key ring and picked out a brass key with even, shallow, teeth. Jamming it into the lock with enough force so that the pins jumped above the cylinder, she immediately twisted the handle and pushed the door open.
"You carry around a bump key?" Norman asked. "That isn't exactly legal."
Sandra was more than aware of his disapproval but said nothing as she headed into the apartment. Blake grinned widely as he followed her through the door. He was glad Norman got a taste of the real Sandra. Maybe he'd think twice next time before bringing her along with him.
Norman wanted to criticize Sandra for breaking the law but knew that would just sound hypocritical considering what she had just found out about him. Figuring that the damage was already done, he walked into the apartment.
Inside he found the physical manifestation of Nathaniel's madness. There were thousands of crosses of all sizes and sects nailed on the walls and ceiling. There was no space unclaimed by a crucifix. At the back of the living room area was an alter and pew for praying. All the candles in the room were lit. It looked like there was more in the back rooms as well.
"Looks like Nathanial Williams is a pretty religious guy," said Norman, as he looked around the apartment.
"He's a god-fearing idiot waiting for the end of the world," Blake snorted. Nathaniel and his neuroses didn't impress him one bit. He found it disgusting. "We questioned him a few months back because he was causing a disturbance in the park. He was ranting and raving. Said he heard voices. Had this idea in his sick little head that I was the anti-Christ- that I had come to earth to persecute him. Real twisted."
Sandra quietly glanced back at Blake, her lips pressed into a thin line. She knew that Blake had a habit of going further than just questioning suspects. When Nathaniel was released from police custody, he had a split lip and the beginnings of a black eye. When she caught Norman looking at her from across the room, she quickly turned back to sifting through a pile of Nathaniel's mail.
Norman, moved from the living room into the bedroom where he found more crucifixes as well as cabinets and dresser drawers full of various medications. He didn't recognize the labels on many of them, but some he knew to be treatments for schizophrenia.
The kitchen was the most disgusting of all. Open cans of Spaghetti-O's and half-eaten jars of pickles and peach slices littered the counter. It seemed like Nathaniel wasn't too concerned about his diet. Mold had taken hold on the dirty plates and silverware that was piled up in the sink and the linoleum was pulling up from the floor due to water damage.
Sandra came up along side Norman, her eyes wandering around the musty room.
"Jesus," she muttered. "Makes you wonder how people live like this."
Norman simply nodded, not knowing what else to add to her statement.
As the two made it back around to the living room, they heard the soft creak of the front door opening behind them.
"Angels and their ministers, defend us," said Nathaniel as he settled into the room, his arms full of groceries. His worried expression was undercut by his timid voice.
"Evening Nathaniel," Said Blake, sauntering in from the bedroom.
"As god as my witness, I haven't done anything. I am innocent," said Nathaniel as he placed his grocery bag on the floor. His eyes radiated fear. Both Sandra and Blake knew exactly why that was.
Norman held his hands in front of him in a gesture of peace, "Relax, nobody's accusing you of anything. I'm Norman Jayden of the FBI. We just want to talk."
Nathaniel was still guarded, practically cowering, but nodded in understanding.
"Why all the crucifixes? You afraid of something?" Norman asked, his tone gentle.
"The hour is nigh, and the wrath of god shall strike men down. I am preparing for the end of the world," Nathaniel explained, his expression grave.
Sandra looked to Norman to see his reaction. She of course had heard all of this from Nathaniel before but she was curious as to how the FBI agent would react. He seemed to take it in stride.
"You were arrested in a case where a child disappeared from a park. What exactly happened?" Norman inquired further.
"I am innocent! I had nothing to do with those murders," Nathaniel insisted. "God told me I should be there. I was arrested because I am the chosen one. That's all."
"What about the voices, Nathaniel? Do you still hear the voices?" Blake cut in. He looked like a cat who'd cornered a mouse. "We know who talks to you, don't we Nathaniel. Oh, we both know who talks to you."
"Lieutenant-" Sandra murmured, her tone warning.
"Do not speak that name," Nathaniel gritted out.
"What does he say to you Nathaniel?" Blake pushed, knowing he would soon get a reaction out of him.
"I can't talk about it. We mustn't talk about it!" Nathaniel insisted, shaking his head and twitching as if cockroaches were running across his brain. His movements made both Sandra and Norman uneasy. Each one could feel their service weapons sitting heavy in their holsters.
"He wants you to go and find new prey, doesn't he? He needs more and more," Blake taunted.
"Blake what are you doing?" Norman demanded. There was an unmistakable note of anxiousness in his voice. This was not proper police conduct, he thought, it was pure stupidity.
"No!" Nathaniel cried, scurrying backwards and making everyone but Blake start. He was merely trying to put distance between himself and his tormenter. "You mustn't mention him. You'll bring him here!"
"He told you to go find that kid in the park, the voices torment you all night long. You wanted them to stop, didn't you Nathaniel?"
"Stop! Stop! That's enough!" Demanded Nathaniel.
Blake wasn't listening, he was on a roll and he knew that eventually the man in front of him would crack. "So you obey them to make them stop. Isn't that right?"
"Curtis, shit! Are you out of your mind?" Norman cried.
"No! Stop, stop!" Nathaniel all but howled.
"You killed them didn't you? Are you going to confess you bastard?" Blake snapped, punching the slender man in the jaw.
That was the moment Sandra finally interceded by smacking Blake's hands down and pushing him back. "Stop, it now!" She snapped, her heart pounding in her ears.
Before Blake could yell at her for getting in his way, Sandra felt Nathaniel's arm wrap around her neck, dragging her backwards into his chest, and the cold barrel of a gun press to her temple. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she clutched hold of his arm.
"Let her go, Nathaniel," Norman demanded, drawing his own gun and pointing it at him. He did not have a clean shot and neither did Blake.
"You shall regret confronting the emissary of the Lord, you shall know divine power!" Nathaniel raved. He had been pushed past his breaking point.
"Just keep calm Nathaniel," said Norman, trying his best to do the same.
"Thou shall not suffer a witch to live," he ground out, digging the barrel of the gun into Sandra's temple.
Sandra whimpered, her grip tightening on Nathaniel's arm. Her frightened gaze locked into Norman's- silently begging him to help her.
"Nathaniel, listen to me," Norman said. His heart was racing a million miles a minute but somehow he managed to appear calm. "If you're going to point the gun at someone, point it at me. Detective Ellis is not a witch."
"She is! This harlot serves the devil," cried Nathaniel, his wild eyes shifting to Blake.
Nathaniel remembered her and how she did nothing help him when Blake had beat him in the interview room earlier that year. In his mind, she was not to be trusted.
"Look, that's not true. Put the gun down," said Norman, trying his best not to agitate the man. He could already tell Blake was trying to line up a shot. There was no way he would get one.
"For Christ's sake, shoot him!" Blake cried.
"Oh Lord, give me strength to vanquish all evil, to be your warrior on this plane..." Nathaniel began to mumble. Both Blake and Norman saw the sheer panic in Sandra's eyes as Nathaniel continued to chant out prayers. Both men were desperate to do something, but it was Norman who made a move.
"Enough, Nathaniel! Put the gun down immediately." Norman told him, his harsh tone indicating it would be his final warning. Otherwise, he would have no choice but to take the shot.
To everyone's surprise, Nathaniel stopped chanting. Making eye contact with the FBI agent, the zealot took a few calming breathes before he slowly loosened his grip on Sandra.
"Now drop the gun. Drop it Nathaniel. Put your hands on your head and turn around," Norman ordered, shocked that he was actually able to talk the man down.
Nathaniel slowly loosened his grip on Sandra. The gun slipped down to his side before he dropped it on the floor. Once the piece hit with a loud clunk, Sandra quickly scrambled away from him. When she did, Norman moved in to handcuff him.
"Alright, freak, the show's over," Blake snapped, grabbing hold of Nathaniel and dragging him to the door before turning back to Norman. "Pretty damn cool under the circumstances. I would have just shot him."
Norman approached Sandra who had her arms crossed so tightly over her chest they looked like they were welded there.
"Are you alright?" He asked softly.
"Yeah." She nodded before tilting her head back and taking in a deep breath. Tears stung her eyes but she quickly blinked them away. "Fucking Christ." She muttered before raking her hands through her hair and walking out the door.
Norman looked after her, his hands shaking at his sides. He could have really used a hit of Tripto right then.
AN: Review, Favor, Follow! I'm going to try and update this story as often as I can, but you know how that gets.