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I had learned already that the wall behind the bed and bath had a giant closed walk-in closet where he kept most of his clothes and his cleaning supplies. There was also a staircase leading up. But I hadn’t explored it yet. So, coffee in hand, and a bit excited to see what else his house had to offer, I started climbing. What I found was a finished floor with a laundry area, a small but well equipped gym, and an array of men’s toys: a kayak, skis, basketballs, hockey sticks, the works. What I also found was yet another staircase up. Curious, I went, but found an unfinished space with just cleaning supplies. I wondered what he had in mind for it… a living space? Extra bedrooms?
Curiosity satisfied, I made my way back down to the main floor and went back to the bed, flicking around the channels mindlessly. Every once in a while, my gaze would move to the laptop and I would force the urge away, knowing it would only lead to bad things.
But, several hours later, I had the laptop on my lap and was bringing up my email.
See, when I left, I left. I didn’t keep in contact with anyone. I didn’t keep tabs on them on social media or even check my own email. Because a part of me knew it would mean disaster. It would ruin me.
As such, I never bought a laptop and I didn’t even have a data plan on my phone. I avoided temptation whenever possible.
I scanned through a seemingly endless amount of junk emails before I saw one from a name I recognized. My heart seemed to stop beating immediately, my stomach twisting painfully. But my hand moved without me telling it to, drifting over the email and clicking it.
There were two attachments, one an image, the other a video. Then there was one typed sentence:
Come back and it stops.
Heartbeat going into overdrive, I clicked the image first. It was the obituary page in my old local paper and my stomach twisted into knots as I searched the images for those of my father and brother. I didn’t find them. I did, however, find a picture of a girl I knew. We hadn’t been close but we would occasionally go out and get coffee or manicures or other girly shit together. I had seen her the day before I left.
And she was dead.
Her grainy black and white picture didn’t do her justice. In real life, she was short and perfectly curvy with big gray eyes and long wheat-blonde hair around her sweet, delicate face. The obituary had obviously been written by the family she was estranged from, very generic and unfeeling. It only said that she died unexpectedly, no details. But I needed to know. So, I went online and started looking around. I found a police report about her, but the details weren’t public knowledge. A good twenty minutes later, I came across a Kill Club website for freaks obsessed with violent crimes. I put in her name, and there it was. The full police report plus the crime scene pictures.
They had found her hung from a tree limb by her wrists, completely naked. She had been beaten badly, half her body looking blue with bruises. There had been cigarette burns on her butt, breasts, inner thighs, and crotch. She had been, it went without saying, raped. They had found she was severely dehydrated which implied that she had been out there a good long time. The official cause of death, though, was his typical style seeing as Ross had a thing for blades.
Her throat had been slit so deep that her head almost detached.
I swallowed hard, closing my eyes to try to force away the images.
I knew my loved ones would be at risk when I left. But I had no idea that casual acquaintances would suffer for my leaving too. Though, that was Ross. He was vengeful and evil and merciless. There was no such thing as an innocent. If he was in a mood, you would pay for it.
As such, as I clicked back to my email window and moved the cursor over the video, I knew it was going to be bad. And it likely wouldn’t be a stranger. I should have just shut it all down, saved myself any more guilt and horror. But I couldn’t bring myself to, knowing my imagination could be every bit as bad, or worse, than the reality.
It was immediately clear that whoever was filming was not Ross because as soon as the video started, you could see Ross walking purposefully into the room. It wasn’t a room I was familiar with, white, dingy, a little dark. A bunch of men were standing around including my father and brother.
