The Killer Among Us

Chapter 1

Three days before the abduction

Being back in Carlisle felt like a weird fever dream. I wasn't quite sure how to act. There's just something quite odd about returning to your hometown, like there's always something tying you to that place, an invisible rope tugging and pulling you into all sorts of directions.

And I wasn't sure whether I liked that or not. One thing was sure, however, I wasn't the same person that left four years ago. Still, acting like a new and better version of myself felt like a lie because, to be honest, I doubted that I was. .

Either way, nothing I did felt right and the atmosphere continuously seemed a little bit off, just enough for me to notice. Walking down the roads I walked a million times before, felt like looking at a marvellous painting of a landscape: matching in every single detail but simply not the real thing.  In a way, that comforted me. Me leaving must have changed at least something, even if it was just the way my own mind perceived it.

I refused to stay at my mothers house because I simply couldn't handle being a burden to her. After I left, her life seemingly improved and to this day I consider me leaving as the one good thing I did for her. More than that, I also wanted to avoid her never-ending cascade of questions concerning my future. Partly because I didn't have any answers to give her. At least none she wanted to hear.

So I  stayed at a rusty old motel just at the outskirts of town. I didn't mind, however. It gave me the excuse to avoid as many people as possible.

"I should have never agreed to come back here.", is what rang in my head so uncomfortably true.

Still I did. I did it for Aria, my little sister. Although she wasn't so little anymore, no matter how hard that was for me to accept. Aria was a grown woman, with a promising future ahead of her. Maturity and grace were things that immediately come to mind. I am proud to say that me being an example to her made her the woman she was.

Although I have to admit that I wasn't a good example. All her life she seemed to do everything she could to not become like me. Although that realisation cut me like a knife and bled all over my life, tainting every step I took a shameful colour of red, I was still proud, for she was the one good thing in my life.

She set up a job interview with her friends building firm for me. That is just the kind of thing she always did. She tried to find a way for me to be close to her, so that she could keep an eye on me; to protect me; to help me. I appreciated it but it made me feel incredibly useless at the same time. Especially because I continuously and without fail ended up disappointing her by screwing up the few opportunities she provided for me.

Deep down inside, I knew this time wouldn't be any different. I would do what I did best: hurt the ones that love me by falling victim to my raging thoughts and overpowering insecurities.

Sitting there in my cheap motel room that smelled like a mixture of cleaning chemicals and musty fabric, I contemplated cancelling the interview to at least spare Aria the embarrassment. Or was I just simply acting out of my own selfishness? I knew, although I couldn't admit it, that I would rather be denied the job because I didn't even try than because I didn't have anything to offer.

With a numbing anxiety bubbling inside of me, I got up from my terribly uncomfortable queen-sized bed and made my way into the bathroom. I pushed the door open, causing it to make a shrieking noise. The lighting inside was dim, since the window was exceptionally small and stained by dirt that must have been decades old. It was incredibly crammed, with a tiny shower that had no curtain and a brownish toilet that seemed dirty beyond repair. But when I dared to look into the mirror, no darkness could have hidden what was clearly written on my face, raw fear.

Funny enough, I didn't know what I was afraid of - failure, maybe. This uncertain fear numbed me and caused a dull, throbbing pain in my heart. The terrible thing was that I didn't know how to fix this. How do you defeat a fear that has no name? How do you fix something when you don't see what is wrong?

With shaking hands I turned on the tap and splashed my face with ice cold water. I welcomed the cold that ran through my body like lightning, but it faded all too quickly. This mere effort to make me feel more alive was pointless - just like all the other habits I took on.

Last year it was drinking an excessive amount of alcohol to numb the pain. The year before that I would inject my veins with just about anything I could find, mostly heroin, to make the pain more interesting. Lately, all I really wanted was to feel again - anything at all. This numbness was like a bottomless pit that I couldn't escape.

With a last glance into the mirror and a steadily rising anxiety, I decided to go out for a walk. Even if it was the last thing I wanted to do, I knew I had to confront my past. The first step in doing so was to go to my old childhood home and see my mother.

I put on my black leather jacket and ruffled up my raven hair. It was always so strange to me that I was the only one in my family with such dark hair. Everyone else had light blonde hair and blue eyes. There I was, with black hair and dark eyes - the literal black sheep of the family. Choosing to brush that thought aside, I grabbed my car keys and left the motel room.

Immediately I was hit by a fresh gust of wind, carrying the scent of pine trees. The sun was slowly setting, painting the whole parking lot of the motel in a golden glow. Some people might have actually considered this place pleasant. After reaching my beloved Ford, I got in and without thinking twice about it, I went on my way.

From the outside the town seemed peaceful, beautiful even. Had I not known about all the dirty secrets this town kept hidden, I might have actually wanted to live here. The population was small, but not too small to know your neighbors. Lots of different stores, cafés and restaurants awarded the town with an enormous variety and the streets were always busy. That was something I always appreciated about Carlisle. Anonymity was always an option.

Normally I would listen to music on the road to silence my chaotic thoughts but I deliberately chose to take the city in as it was. Something about driving on roads you have known your entire life was calming to me. Maybe it was knowing that wherever you turn, you aren't ever truly lost.

By the time I reached my destination, it was already dark out and the streetlights shone on my old neighborhood like a spotlight. All the houses were bustling with life, the windows were lit in a spirited glow. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside of each and every house. Surely these people couldn't all have been as happy as they let people believe.

I parked at the end of the street and approached my mothers house. It was big, but not as big as it was in my memory. I hadn't been there in about four years and yet somehow nothing had changed. The lawn was mowed to perfection, everything was clean and orderly. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing except for me, of course.

Not knowing what to expect, I approached the shiny, red front door and knocked hesitantly. Knocking on my own door seemed a little silly to me and I instantly regretted it when I heard someone approaching. The door opened quickly and my mothers eyes stared back at me in shock. Five painful seconds passed until she opened the door a tiny bit more and exclaimed my name: "Jacob!" The fake joy in her voice didn't go unnoticed. "What a pleasant surprise. We have guests over. Care to join us for dinner?"

Everything inside of me hated myself for having to say yes but I also knew that I had no other choice. Without a word, I took my mothers invitation and entered the house. Engulfed by the warmth and the smell of food, I made my way to the dining room, where the hushed whispers of people were already awaiting me.

"There is no going back now," is what I told myself just before I entered the room. "Just don't mess this up."