Chapter 5: third victim
When the bell rang again, they went back to their next classes. Francis had to go to another part of the building where the seniors had their classrooms. They didn't say a word to each other and parted. Arthur had P.E next. It was nothing out of the ordinary. The people who he had P.E with weren't mean to him at all, but neither were they particularly nice to him. It was bearable.
The two hours passed quickly, even when they had to play basketball outside on the field. And his next block was Art. Arthur liked the class because he was good at it, and it seemed to always pass more quickly than all the other classes. Here he was in his element. The blond sat on his seat at the back of the room and was busy sculpting a unicorn in clay. The material felt smooth in his hands, and when he looked at the things his classmates were building, he couldn't help but feel proud of his work. It was looking better more and more, with each time he ran over the surface with a dampened sponge. The teacher had taken a seat at her desk and looked over the classroom, and when she caught a glimpse of Arthur's unicorn sculpture, she nodded her head, acknowledging his work. She liked it, that much was obvious. And soon, school was over for today.
"You can leave your sculptures at your desks, but don't forget do carve your initials into the bottom. I will take them to an empty classroom so they can dry before I'll bake them. Good work, everyone."
The students left, and Arthur hurried to get out of the school-building. He saw Gilbert for a short moment when he was walking through the entrance. The albino was standing at a wall, at a spot out of the teachers' field of vision, smoking a cigarette. He didn't seem to register the Englishman. Arthur walked straight back home. He hadn't planned to do anything else, except for doing his homework at home like the good student he was. Alfred had already left, as his missing car on the parking lot showed. It was sunny today, but not warm enough to be only wearing T-shirts or skirts. Some of the girls didn't seem to mind the cold. On his way home, a couple of crows were fighting over a dead mouse that lay on the street where he was walking down to get to an intersection. He turned to the right and passed by the flower shop that was now opened. Through the glass door, he was able to see the woman waving and smiling at him and he waved back. He then crossed the street and was home not much later. His parents were both at work again.
The blond found some left-over lasagne in the fridge that he put in the microwave. He ate his food and drank a cup of tea, while wondering why the demon hadn't shown up in his dreams for the past couple of days. He'd still been nervous every night when going to bed, afraid of having a nightmare again. But nothing. Arthur put his empty dishes into the dishwasher and went into his room where he did his homework. He had no intention to be summoning the demon again. But it seemed he couldn't get rid of the being as it had suddenly appeared again.
"My dear Arthur, why haven't you done what I so kindly asked of you?" It's normally mocking voice now sounded bemused. The pencil he'd held in his hand fell to the floor.
"What are you doing here?" He asked nervously. The being folded its arms and just took a seat on his bed.
"I can show up whenever I want. You know, I'm actually a little mad right now. I can't allow for this annoying girl to be happy." Arthur didn't understand this. What had Michelle got to do with the demon? The child-like being just stared at him, waiting.
"What has she ever done to you?" He asked. He was mad as well now.
"You won't understand. I don't have to tell you. Just do it. Hurt her. Make her cry." Its reasons were beyond Arthur.
"Just do it yourself then! I don't hate her and I don't want to hurt her!" Suddenly, the being jumped up from Arthur's bed and toward him. It took hold of his neck and started strangling him.
"Let go of me!" The Englishman screamed, while trying to pry its little hands loose. The child started cursing at him now, its eyes burning with anger, and looking dark. But then, they both heard the front door closing, and the demon disappeared.
"Arthur? Are you home?" He heard the voice of his mother calling out to him from downstairs.
"Yes! I'm doing my homework right now!" He shouted, sincerely hoping that she hadn't heard his little argument just now. But then he noticed something else. Her voice had sounded distressed.
"Is everything all right with you?" He asked while standing up and hurriedly walking toward his door. He peered down at his mother, from the spot where he was standing at the top of the stairs.
"Come down. I've got something to tell you. It's important." Arthur quickly walked downstairs, and his mother sat him down on the couch to talk.
"There was another victim. It was one of the senior students again." She began, looking everywhere but at him. Arthur felt his throat go dry.
"Who was it?"
His mother took a hold of her white blouse, wrinkling up the meticulously ironed clothing. She had quit smoking not that long ago, and was obviously extremely nervous right now.
"His name was David Davis. He was found in the basement of the school, hanged and gutted." Arthur felt perplexed at the mention of the name, for he hadn't told the demon to kill the boy. He'd been one of the jocks who'd had Arthur pressed against the wall on this very morning.
"Didn't anyone see him going down to the basement? What's with the janitor?" The blond asked his mother who just shook her head as an answer.
"He told the police that a few light bulbs at the gym had been destroyed, and that he was busy replacing them the whole time. When he went down to the basement, one door was locked. And that's exactly where he then found the dead boy." They both shuddered simultaneously at the mental image.
"Who told you this? I always thought the police kept such information confidential."
His mother nodded her head at this.
"Yes, normally they do, but a few parents kept pressuring the policemen into telling them. Because they were also curious about the janitor. The principal promised us he'd get cameras installed in every room of the school, but some parents are still too afraid to let their child go to school any longer."
"But the victims were only senior students. Everyone else has nothing to worry about." He tried to reassure his mother. She nodded her head once more, then sighed.
"But still. Three students have been murdered! Who wouldn't be afraid?" Arthur felt sorry for his mother.
"It's okay, mum. They will catch the murderer sooner or later."
She wiped her eyes at that. It startled the blond, for he hadn't noticed her crying. She must have held herself back. She then abruptly stood up and went to the kitchen where she busied herself preparing dinner. Together they waited for Arthur's father to come home, and then it was time for dinner. That evening, Arthur received another text message from Alfred.
'Have you already heard what's happened? Man, that's so scary!O.O'
Arthur imagined Alfred wide-eyed on his phone as he texted him. He replied right back.
'Yes, my mother just told me. Apparently, they will install cameras everywhere. I hope they'll catch him soon.'
'Who?' Arthur face-palmed at that.
'The one who murdered the three boys, you git!'
'Oh, yeah, sorry.'
The Englishman shook his head. The other boy was just so... so... Alfred. Then he remembered something.
'How's it going with Michelle?' It took a while for the American to reply.
'Fine. You know how relationships are, they aren't always smiles and blushes. But I'm really happy with her, I just hope she feels the same.'
That worried Arthur a little. It wasn't even two weeks yet, that Alfred and Michelle had gotten together.
'Did something happen between the two of you? Feel free to tell me.'
Arthur waited for fifteen minutes, but when there came no reply, he gave up and turned off his phone. Maybe the other just wasn't up to telling him.
In his dreams that night, he asked the demon( now in form of a unicorn, what a joke) about the last victim. The being now had a golden horn that lightened up the pitch-black night in the forest, where the both of them were standing in the familiar clearing full of colourful flowers. Fairies had gathered there, tending to them and watching the intruders.
"I haven't told you to kill him. Why have you done this?" Even if the boy, David, had been a pain in the arse, he was still just a follower, a mere sheep that'd been hanging on Gilbert's every word.
"Would you believe me if I were to tell you that I was not the one who killed him?" Arthur snorted at the ridiculous answer. The 'unicorn' before him had glowingly blue eyes that reminded him a little of Alfred. But still only a little.
"Of course you were the one! Who could've done it other than you?"
"Ever heard of copycats? Someone could've just imitated the killer to feel like some god, but without the fear of getting caught because the hints are leading to someone else already. Just a suggestion."
Actually, that sounded quite believable.
"Do you know who?" The unicorn-demon shook its head.
"I thought you demons knew everything." Arthur was shocked at his own tone that sounded so mocking, exactly like the demon spoke to him. He didn't like the thought of him resembling this 'thing'. And just then, he could swear he saw the glimmer of green it its eyes. But only for a second.
"Watch your mouth, boy. But no, I'm not god, I do not see everything." The being answered. And then it started smiling at him, its teeth razor-sharp again. "I can show you something if you want. Do you know how someone looks when gutted?" Before it had the chance to change forms, Arthur wildly shook his head.
"No, no! Really, I can imagine!" The being laughed loudly.
"Remember what I told you to do. The girl. Hurt her."
"No." Arthur said, the sternness in his voice piercingly sharp.
"Hurt her. Huuuuurt her. Hurt heeeeeeer." Its voice had adopted its old mocking tone again Arthur held his hands to his ears and closed his eyes. But he could still hear the voice, even as he felt himself slowly falling out of the dream-world. Hurt her! Hurt her, hurt her.
Hurtherhurtherhurtherhurtherhurtherhurtherhurtherhurtherhurt -
He finally woke up, with his heart beating rapidly. It was five in the morning.
Arthur knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so he might as well just get out of bed. And that's what he did. He ate breakfast too early again, after a long shower that washed the rest of his sleepiness away. It was seven, when his father joined him in the kitchen, just as Arthur was studying for an upcoming test in Spanish class. His father didn't say a word to him, didn't even speak about the incident yesterday. They just sat there, his father eating his own breakfast and Arthur studying, until it was time for the blond to leave for school. As he was about to get out of the kitchen, he heard his father quietly muttering.
"Be careful." Arthur stood with his back to his dad and didn't look over his shoulder, so he wasn't able to see his father's worried expression.
"Have a nice day." He simply said and left.
When he arrived at school, the first thing he noticed was the unsurprisingly low number of students who had come. The rest was surely not allowed to go to school, not before the murderer hadn't been caught.
"Arthur!" He saw Alfred standing beside Michelle, in the hallway where their Spanish classroom was.
"School's so empty today. Kinda comfortable." The American said as if he was trying to lift the mood. It didn't help at all.
"Let's go." Michelle simply said and the three walked to their class.
Alfred took a seat next to his girlfriend and Arthur had to sit in the middle of the room because all the other seats were taken already. Class started, but nothing interesting or really new was being taught, and sometime later, the Englishman found himself catching a glimpse over his shoulder, of the couple that happily sat next to each other at the back of the room. The two were passing notes between them in secret. That was when a frightening thought settled down in his mind, at the back of his head, constantly replaying itself in different volumes, all the while annoying him. Why does she have to be so happy? Why can't she just cry? Or better, why can't I just kill her? He forced his mind to shut up and be quiet. It didn't occur to him what his thoughts could actually mean, until a few hours later, when he saw them kissing behind the gym. They stood at the perfect angle to be seen from one of the windows in the school's library. Arthur just stood there, frozen in place and fuming. Or that's how he felt. Why can't I just kill her? This one specific thought in particular made him puzzled. I am thinking just like that 'thing'. Why is that? It told me it had nothing to do with the third murder. But I already know that it just lies whenever it wants. And even if it was saying the truth. Who could have done this? I don't think the other students or even the teachers are capable of doing something horrific like that. The only one I know who's sometimes imagining something like killing, is...
Arthur snapped out of his thoughts. He himself was definitely not the murderer! It just wasn't possible. He would've known if that was the case. But it was not. He would at least have some memories of doing it if he had truly been the one.
"I am not a murderer." He quietly muttered, his lips barely moving. He saw Alfred and his girlfriend leaving in Alfred's car. He knew he was completely sane, he was conscious of his doings the whole day long, everyday. If I were to kill someone I would have to be sleeping to not being able to notice my doings. He had planned for the thought to lift his spirits, but instead it only made him afraid even more.
When he arrived at home, he'd already made up his mind to staying up the night. Just to see for himself. If there still would be another murder, he'd know for sure it wasn't him.
But when the students had to gather at the school-yard the next morning, and the name of victim number four, John Johnson, was announced, Arthur felt a familiar sense of dread creeping through his pale body. He stood there, his eyes red-rimmed and tired, and didn't know what had become of him. He was devastated. It didn't matter that he had spent the night before lying awake in bed, or if the demon had lied to him or not. The blond just had this feeling that it was not the demon who'd done this. He didn't see Francis anywhere, but just then he received a text message from the Frenchman.
'I just heard. My parents aren't allowing me to go to school any longer until the culprit is found. They are afraid I will be killed because all the victims are seniors.'
Arthur didn't reply back. He wouldn't have known what to write him. I think I am the killer? No, that just wouldn't do. The students were sent back home while the principal was busy commanding some people through the school-building who were to install the much needed cameras. The Englishman felt he needed to tell someone. He was afraid of himself now. What if the demon had manipulated him somehow? Or what if all the stress had finally gotten to him and made him sick in the head? On his way home, just as he was walking down a street, a car appeared beside him. Arthur had his gaze dropped the whole way, and didn't even look up to see who it was. But he didn't have to. He heard.
"Please get in the car. I'd like to talk to you."
Gilbert Beilschmidt said as he was slowly driving alongside Arthur.