Cause to Kill

After years of practice within his home – and now with the All Spirit inside of him – Edwin was sure that he could overtake any foe.

They threaten our cause, the All Spirit moaned within Edwin’s mind. We cannot allow them to thwart our plans. Go, my fledgling. Go…and hunt.

* * *

Dogs barked from inside the house. There had to be two or three of them. One was a large pit bull that kept appearing in the first floor window.

Shit, she thought. Move.

Crouched low, Avery ran into the backyard.

The dogs followed and barked.

A basement door was painted blue. She tried to open it. Locked. There was a porch and a back door. She shuffled up and peeked inside. Instantly, the pit bull’s face appeared again. The barking turned ferocious. There were two other dogs, both tiny: a pug and what appeared to be a tea cup poodle. She also spotted numerous cats.

The back door was locked.

She hammered her gun onto one of the glass plates near the lock.

The glass shattered.

The muzzle of the pit bull snapped in the opening. Avery stood up and tracked the movements of all three dogs. When the way was clear, she reached in and unlocked the door.

A squat took her down low. With her back protected by the wooden door, Avery put one hand on the knob. The gun was in her other hand. She listened for the timing: the pit bull barked and jumped, stayed on the floor for a bit, then repeated the process.

When the pit bull was about to jump, Avery opened the door.

The dog rushed out. A light tap with her foot and the pit bull stumbled down the steps. The two other dogs appeared and grasped for footing so they could turn and reach Avery. She simply held the doorknob, spun inside the house, and closed the door.

Barking continued, but it no longer bothered her.

Avery was in.

A cat purred against her leg.

The kitchen was beside her. To her left was a small dining area, and straight ahead were a living room and two more cats. A few plants dotted the kitchen windowsills. They seemed like the easiest variety to maintain: cactus and pothos.

Gun held low, Avery moved through the house.

Stay alert, she thought. He has to know I’m here.

“Edwin Pesh!” she yelled. “This is the police. Make your hands visible and step into view. There are two other officers outside,” she lied. “Backup is on the way. In a few minutes, this entire block will be crawling with cops. Edwin Pesh!”

Around a corner was the staircase to the second level. More cats lined the steps.

Avery crept up the carpeted stairs, gun pointed straight ahead and above, where she could see a wraparound banister. Cats continued to get in her way. She gently nudged them aside.

The second floor was empty, but she found even more cats. No pictures lined the walls. No photos of any kind. Only two spartan bedrooms that were completely blanketed in cats. Every closet was opened. She looked under beds and in nooks. Edwin Pesh was nowhere.

The basement door was in the kitchen.

Beside the door was a phone.

Avery picked it up and dialed 911.

“This is emergency services,” a woman said. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Avery Black. I’m with the Boston A1,” she replied and offered her badge number. “I’m in the house of a possible serial killer and need support.”

“Thank you for your call, Detective Black. Can you please…”

Avery left the phone hanging.

The basement was dark. A light switch to her right illuminated another door at the bottom of the steps. She made her way down. The walls were lined in bare wood.

At the bottom of the steps, she opened the second door.

Another hallway was perpendicular to the staircase. More dim lights hung from the wooden ceiling and lit the space. She turned left, and was forced to make another quick left into a much longer passageway.

Every square inch of the walls in the longer passage was lined in pictures, hundreds of pictures. The pictures seemed to be arranged horizontally. If she followed one all the way to the right, it told a story. A black cat was in one frame, just sitting on a ledge. In the next frame, the cat was seemingly dead on the ground. In the next, the cat was partially opened to reveal its interior. Each consecutive picture showed the cat in some stage of taxidermy.

Doors interrupted the walls on both sides.

It’s like a maze, she thought.

“Edwin Pesh!” she yelled. “This is the police. Make yourself known! Put your hands where I can see them and step out into the hall.”

She listened for a response.

Nothing, only dogs barking from a distance, and the motion of an orange cat that had followed her down into the basement.

The first door on her left was opened. Darkness obscured the room. Avery clicked on her flashlight, held it in line with her gun muzzle. She spun inside. Jars were visible along the back wall, row after row of jars with multicolored substances. A silver medical table was to her left, along with medical equipment and embalming fluid and tools.

Holy shit.

A cat rubbed against her leg.

Startled by the contact, Avery pointed her weapon down and nearly fired.

“Jesus,” she whispered.

For a moment, her eyes closed.

Floorboards creaked behind her. In the second that it took for Avery to rouse herself and spin, she felt a sting in the back of her neck and heard someone run farther down the hall.

Shit!!

Wooziness spread through her.