Chapter 2: Secrets
Arthur was thinking hard. He had nothing to fear. All he had to do was tell the truth. But that was the problem. He knew they would never believe the truth. On one wall in the principals office directly above the door, there hung a clock that was ticking quietly. The sound made him nervous. He also knew that he had to say something. Saying nothing was no option here. The two policemen were staring at him. One of them, a huge blond who could just as well be a body-builder, was drumming on the tabletop with his fingers.
"Did you know the victim?" He asked. Arthur found it weird how they spoke about Sadik. As if he was only an object without a name.
"No. I didn't really know him. I don't have a lot in common with the other students so I'd rather be alone than to hang out with them." He answered. At least that was not a lie. That should give them a vague impression of him. Arthur didn't want them to dig into the matter of his situation at school more than necessary.
"When was the last time you saw him? And where?" The second man asked now. It was the one with the tired voice. He was probably in his mid-forties but Arthur wasn't sure. His black hair had already started to go grey and he had a tiny scar on his left temple.
"I think it was three days ago after school when I came out of the library to go home." Arthur said. He hoped they wouldn't be able to see through his lie.
"Was the victim alone?" Arthur tried to remember that day. After school three days ago, Sadik really had been alone. But four hours later on the same evening, there were two more people. Friends of Sadik. When they ganged up on Arthur. But that didn't matter.
"I only saw him when I came out of the library and walked down the hallway. There were the windows that overlooked the parking lot. He stood there alone by his car."
The huge blond policeman had started to write down some notes. His colleague asked the next question.
"Did the victim have a good relationship with his peers? Or did he fight with anyone?" Yes, Arthur thought. But they didn't need to know. Instead he shrugged.
"Everyone liked him. I haven't heard of any fights." The older policeman sighed.
"Well. That's it. You can go now."
A huge wave of relief overcame Arthur and he hurriedly left the office. He went back to the classroom where he normally would've had maths and where his backpack was. When he walked into the room, his teacher called the next student on her list. He took his things and walked back into the hallway to put on his jacket. But his umbrella wasn't there anymore.
The truth was: Arthur knew Sadik's murderer. The circumstances of the matter were hard to explain. Arthur had walked to school so now he had to go home in the pouring rain. His jacket didn't have a hood. On the windows that were on the opposite wall of the classrooms, so many raindrops were running down, that you couldn't see anything at all. Arthur wondered if he would be able to keep his backpack with all of his books dry. On his way outside he ran into the janitor who had a broken light bulb in his hand. Those in the gymnasium broke all the time. The old man looked exhausted and absent minded. It must be horrible to find a dead body. Arthur couldn't imagine how he would react in this kind of situation. He went down the stairs when someone touched his shoulder.
"Arthur! Wait!" He heard Alfred say a little too loud who, by the looks of his, had been running after him. The American took his hand back and proceeded to walk alongside Arthur.
"My class is done with the questioning, I waited for you the whole time." Arthur stared at Alfred who was a few inches taller than him. The American had sunny blond hair and the bluest eyes Arthur had ever seen. Even with his glasses, his eyes where shining.
"What do you want?" Arthur asked annoyed and walked faster but the other hurried as well. Alfred passed him almost instantly and stood in his way.
"I can drive you home if you want." He suggested. Arthur wanted to say no. But he felt he had no other option than to take up the offer. He didn't want to arrive at home completely soaked. He didn't want to get the flu and most importantly he didn't want to get struck by lightning. As if mother nature had heard his thoughts, the thundering got louder. He swallowed his pride.
"Okay." Was all he said. They proceeded on their way when Alfred started grinning.
"What happened to your umbrella? Forgot at home?" He snickered quietly as he zipped up his own jacket and Arthur remembered the reason why he preferred to be alone.
"Of course not, you git! The stupid thing wasn't there anymore when I came back from the principals office. I guess someone took it by accident."
The two blonds ran through the rain to Alfred's old Jeep and when Arthur slumped into the passenger seat with his backpack lying on his lap, his hair was wet.
"Do you want me to switch on the air conditioning?" The American asked as he started the engine and Arthur nodded quietly. It really was cold in the car. After a few seconds it was much better and the Englishman leaned back in his seat. The radio was set on a station that played the weirdest mix of different genres.
Because the sun was completely hidden behind rain clouds, it now looked like late evening even if it was only noon. The rain came down on the windscreen like mad and the windscreen wipers worked as fast as they could on the old car. Arthur didn't have do give Alfred directions to his house because the other had been there before. The radio played an old rock song from the 90s and Alfred sang along softly. Arthur stopped himself from commenting. After only five minutes they arrived at the house that was empty because both of his parents were at work at this time of the day. Arthur hoped that Alfred wouldn't ask if he was allowed to come inside.
"Sorry, I have to go somewhere. Better be on my way then. Bye." The American said as Arthur got out of the car. He hadn't expected the other to excuse himself so quickly. But oh well. Instantly after he'd shut the passenger side door with his backpack in one hand, the other drove away. The dirty rain water on the street splashed to the sides as the car tires ran through a tiny puddle. But Arthur was in safe distance. He opened the fence that surrounded the tiny garden and walked to the door. The keys were under the doormat.
Inside the house everything was silent and dark. They had no pets and Arthur was an only child so he was alone for now. He went upstairs and into his room with its walls painted blue and red. He closed his door. On one wall stood a huge bookshelf, filled with classics and books about paranormal stuff, occultism and nature religions. But only one of those was important to him now. The thick piece of art had faded pages full of little tears and some were loose. This book was about
demon summoning. Arthur had found it some time ago on a garage sale and bought it more for his own amusement than for any real purpose. On the same evening he'd started to read it and soon grew obsessed. Two days later he was done with it. At the time he still didn't fully believe that it was real. But soon his opinion had changed after the first little ritual was successful. It was nothing complicated. He had managed to turn a candlelight blue. That was a beginner's ritual that was on one of the first sites of the book as an example. The difficult stuff for what you needed a lot of equipment was on the last pages.
Arthur had learned a lot and gotten better over the months that passed by. And bolder as well. His bookshelf had already been filled with books of such a kind even before. Of course he planned for it to remain a secret; he didn't want other people to think of him as a weirdo. His parents never went into his room because he kept it clean, so he didn't have to worry about them finding out. But as can be expected: someone found him in the public library one day, with a book written by no other than Aleister Crowley in his hand.
Gilbert Beilschmidt who, in turn, carried a cookbook with Prussian recipes with him, knew the name that stood on the book cover and reacted like expected: he told his friends at school.
Gilbert was friends with Sadik, Antonio, Francis, Feliciano, and some other senior students. Antonio and Feliciano were in Arthur's year and didn't participate in the whole thing, the latter out of fear. Francis had his very own reasons for making the Englishman's life more difficult but it was neither cruel nor thoughtless. But then again, Sadik and Gilbert's other friends had fun making his life a living hell. So a few individuals who were nice to him didn't stick out of the lot.
And that was the reason why Arthur needed this one specific book now. He'd already used it a couple of days ago and had not expected to take it out of his shelf so soon again. The blond knew the special ritual by now and had everything prepared for it. He darkened his room and lit up a few candles in different colours. The time and the day for the ritual were not important. He arranged the candles on his floor so they would built a circle and in the middle he drew a pentagram with white chalk. He did everything exactly as it was explained in his book. Then he sat on top of the pentagram and in between the candles, cross-legged. He closed his eyes. He had to concentrate now. Only, his thoughts disturbed him of his calmness. They were about the policemen, the questions, Alfred and the thunderstorm that hadn't changed much since morning.
But he forced himself to concentrate once again, harder this time. Before his inner eye, it was pitch black. Quietly Arthur spoke a summoning mantra. He had to be patient because it would take its time. But then he heard a voice. The Englishman opened his eyes and looked around his room.
"Here I am." The voice said in an amused and young-sounding tone. Arthur saw the little person walking from one corner of his room to the bed and slumping down on it. This person looked exactly like a younger version of Arthur, but only with blue eyes instead of his green ones.
"Why did you summon me so soon again?" The being in form of child asked. Arthur stared at it. He wasn't so sure how he was supposed to behave around the being and if there were some specific rules he had to follow. He didn't want to make any mistakes just because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.
"You told me it would take you one week." Arthur said bemused. The child only shrugged.
"I lied." It answered and looked bored now. The Englishman had to get a grip on himself.
"I thought you couldn't lie." He narrowed his eyes.
"There are things you humans just can't understand." It sighed. "I do what I want." For a moment, the child mirrored Arthur's facial expression before it started snickering.
You could almost find it cute if you didn't know what the child actually was. For Arthur it was creepy.
"And what will happen next?" He wanted to know. "Sadik was not the only one. There are at least five others. And I don't know if there are other people involved. It would attract attention if all of them suddenly died." It was hopeless, Arthur felt.
"Why do you worry so much? The police won't be able to solve the case. They have no evidence, no hints. After everything is over, you can finally live in peace. That's what you wanted." When the child spoke, it didn't sound how it looked like even one bit. Arthur clenched his hands to fists. He slightly changed his position on the floor so he knelt before the child. And he forced himself to remember everything Gilbert's friends had done to him. Anger ran through his body. The little boy saw and smiled at him.
"So? Who's the next person in line?" He asked and rocked his short legs up and down as he sat on the edge of Arthur's bed.
"Ivan Braginski." Was all the Englishman said. The child stood up from the bed and disappeared. Arthur heard him laugh in the back of his head. The candles flickered and Arthur blew them out. He cleaned the pentagram off his floor. In the house it was completely silent. No school meant no homework and so he had nothing to do. In four hours Arthur's mother would come back from her shift in the hospital and his father one hour after her. Arthur spend his time reading.
With a book and a cup of tea he sat on the couch in the living room.
When his mother came in through the door later that day, Arthur was already half through with the book. She had a bag with food in her hands that she proceeded to put away in the kitchen.
"Do you have something special you want to eat?" She asked him. Arthur stood up from the couch and took his empty cup to put it in the dishwasher.
"No. Just cook what you want." He said and left the kitchen. His book still lied on top of the sofa table and he picked it up. He went upstairs and back into his room. A good forty minutes later when he was lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, he noticed the smell of minced meat and onions. Now, he really had nothing to do. His family didn't own a TV and he had no intention of going outside.
People like Alfred surely were busy all the time, with things like hobbies, sports and socialising. That felt like a whole other world to him. The thunderstorm outside had gotten a little better as the hours went by, but Arthur still found it silly how wrong the weather forecast had been.
When his father came back home a few minutes later and his mother called them both for dinner, the first thing his father said was:" Isn't it horrible what happened at the school?" And Arthur stiffened for a short moment. But of course they had informed all parents of what happened. They sat down at the dining table and began to fill their plates with food.
"How can someone do such a horrendous thing, to kill a student? How old was he again? 17? 18?" His mother muttered and slowly shook her head.
"Imagine what it would feel like, as a parent, when your own child dies so suddenly. And by murder." His father said and both of them looked so sad that Arthur had to look away.
"There sure are some monsters on this planet." His mother added and Arthur almost choked on his food.
"Arthur? Are you okay, boy?" His father asked. He realized painfully that all the attention was on him now. And he feared the next question.
"Did you know the boy?" Yes, there it was. But he could never tell them how well he knew Sadik.
"Not very much. I only saw him from time to time." They didn't need to know more than that. He was the only one who knew that the next corpse would be found soon enough.