Pitch black eyes

“Hey, I’ve got a 12-hour surgery. Eat your dinner, hon!”

Reading my husband’s text, I walked through the patio of our new home. It’s already been one week ever since we live in this place and also one week since the murder happened. The police conclude that the murder is just an act of imitation but there’s this voice in my head that believes otherwise. Why does it feels like it wasn’t just an imitation of the Vampire Serial Killings that happened 16 years ago?

I’ve personally done my research and I also did my thesis about it during my undergraduate and things are not adding up. There are information that isn’t really convincing and it making me bothered. Bothered to the point that it makes me shiver out of fear and disgusts. How can someone who can do such a heinous crime is called a human being?

On the other hand, Fajardo who initially investigate the crime was dismissed because the higher ups are too determined to close the investigation, especially because it stirs the nation and bring fear to the entire nation.

My proposal also got rejected that’s why I am back to my normal routine of writing scripts for the shows.

I don’t know if it is because I am tired today or I just really appreciates Hayden’s effort in cooking my dinner especially when he has a tight schedule because he is a doctor. I am enjoying my meal when all of the sudden, the electricity went out.

I am not familiar with this place yet and my phone is in my room so I have no choice but to look for candles. I had a hard time looking for the candles but in the middle of it I saw a man.. looking outside of our glass windows.

He is wearing a black coat and holding an umbrella even if it is not raining. I started to feel the fear infiltrating every vein in my body. My hand holding the door of the cabinet started to tremble. Why does it feels like his dark gaze is piercing through our window and he’s looking right into my own two eyes?

Then, the fear consumed me more. He started to step closer, and closer without breaking the dark stare. It feels like I lost my sense of breathing until I don’t have a choice but to close my eyes. However, images of the body without the organ lies across my mind. It was like all of the blood momentarily leave my body then I know I needed to live.

With a slow movement and calculated pace, I tried to grab our kitchen knife and crawl in my most quiet attempt of survival.

The kitchen table, it is the safest place that I saw. Crawling for my life, I’ve waited underneath it. Even though it’s already dark and I can’t saw him, I’ve clamped my hand in now mouth to cover any noise.

Calling all of the saints and my husband’s name in my mind, I’ve tremblingly waited for something. tears started to drip in my eyes.

I am so scared. It feels like I am watching a movie but the only difference is that I am the main character. Then, I saw it. With my own two widen eyes, a large pair of shoes is in front of me. Without much thinking, I’ve screamed and use the knife.  

Heavily sighing and sweating for the nervousness, I’ve tried to run but a large calloused hand stop me from running away. I swish the knife then the light went on.

“ Hon?” Hayden’s looks confused while looking at me pointing a knife in him with a scared face. I noticed a blood dripping in his shirt because I made a cut into his one arm earlier.

“ It’s okay, come here.”

That is my cue. Running into his arms, the knife made a sound when I just let it dropped in the floor. My body is so weak and terrified that I let myself fall into his waiting arms, feeling his warmth and embrace. It feels safe and I feel protected when he began to whispers calming words then my gaze landed on our glass windows, I shivered remembering the image of the man.

“ there is a man… a man.. in the window… staring at me!”

His hand squeezed my hand because when our eyes landed in the glass window, the man is nowhere to be found. It was just an empty streets, full of street lamps and dark road.  

“ Shh. Its okay,” he whispers and kisses my head to ease my trembling.

Protesting and trying to made a point, I let my stare land on the streets once again. And truth to be told, the man wasn’t there. He just quickly fades in the dark.

A minute passed and I didn’t even stop in crying. It’s like the effect and fear of what I saw still lingers at the back of my mind. Surely, I lost my consciousness in Hayden’s arms and I just woke up in the middle of the night, inside our bedroom with him hugging me at his side.

The clothes that I am wearing is different from earlier, maybe he took the liberty to change me. Trying to not disturb his sleep, I quietly get out of the bed and walked through our bathroom to wash and freshen up. But midway, my steps stop. I’ve froze in the spot and let myself dwell through the corners of our room.

There is something wrong. I can feel it, there is someone looking right beneath my back. The smell stinks then somehow my eyes landed in the trash bin. With my curious eyes, I’ve pulled the white clothing and there I saw it. Hayden’s coat is full of blood. Staring right into the confusion, I’ve finally realized something. My husband is a surgeon, so I guess this is normal?

Maybe he had an emergency patient. I shrugged the thought of my mind. Earlier, he told that he got a 12-hour surgery. What happened? Why is he home at that hour?

“Hey, are you alright?” Hayden is already awake when I got back. He’s waiting for me in our bed. His eyes is half-close as if he’s sleeps are just being disrupts because I wasn’t in his side.

“Sorry,” apologizing, I’ll let myself crawl to the bed and join him. His broad shoulder touches the coldness of my hand. His eyes pierce through my body in the dark. It’s like a menacing question.

“Let’s sleep,” he said before stroking my hair. I tried to fall asleep again but my mind is going back to the picture of the man that I saw earlier. Hayden notice that I am having a hard time so I am shocked when he tries to sing me a song.

I tried to hide it but as soon as he started hitting the high notes in our wedding song, I’ve lost it somehow. Hayden’s voice is not calm. His voice sounds so manly and rugged. It suits his physique because he looks and acts rugged also. With his short stubbles and ripped body, he is sure looks like more of a gangster rather than a doctor.

A handsome gangster doctor with a sad, sorrowful eyes. Closing my eyes, I let myself dwell in the coldness of the night and the innocence of his hand stroking my hair in the softest way.

“Sleep tight Hon, I love you.”

 I heard him whispers before I drifted into the sleep.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

 I shouted at Fajardo when I saw him entering his office. A second victim was found yesterday evening under the small bridge and it looks exactly the same as the previous murder. An older man accidentally discovered it when he falls into the bridge because he is too drunk.

Disturbingly, the location of the second victim is just 100 meters away from our house. I started to throw Fajardo some files because of how furious I am. I didn’t get the exclusives! And the worst case is that I am just literally living just a hundred meter away from the location of the crime.  

He looked at me and started to avoid all of the papers that I am throwing.

“ I sent you a message!”

Fajardo defended before doing something in his desk. I opened my phone and got more furious when I read his text message.

“ Riz, you up?” that is what he said on the text and suddenly I just want to wring his neck for being an asshole.

“ Do you think there is only one suspect for all of this crimes?” I asked him while watching him do his work.

“ Maybe!” he exclaimed annoyed because he can’t seem to solve a problem. I need stop myself from throwing my bag to him when I saw what he is doing. He is doing a puzzle, a damn puzzle.

“I am doing the show on this case.”

Informing him, I’ve tried to catch his attention but he just looked at me for a second before going back in solving his goddamn puzzles.

I got annoyed on him.

I tried to wait but when I’ve noticed that he’s just being an asshole, I planned to storm out of the office. However, in the middle of my steps, my eyes caught something.

It’s a picture. From the bulletin board where all of the evidences for the crime is plastered.

Fajardo seems too indulge in his game, carefully, I took the picture and tried to see it closer, clearer. I cannot just point it out, but somehow at the back of my mind I know that I vividly recognize the boy from one of the pictures of the suspects.  

“Why?” Fajardo asked, noticing the expression in my face. Shaking my head, I looked at the plain corner of the room. Why does the boy seem to be so familiar? I cannot seem to figure out who is the little boy in the picture but I am certain that I know him or I did meet him before.

“Nothing serious.” I replied before quietly hiding the picture into my bag without letting Fajardo know