Death Cast

00.4 | The Penultimate

The old blockhouse could only provide a false sense of security and comfort. There's nothing else to look forward to. Aside from the few additions of square earthen pots and DIY plastic bottle plant pots that added a bit of liveliness and color, the yellowed wall left a greasy feeling, exposing the red-bricked concrete beneath the chipped plasters.

Nonetheless, the doors are entirely useless.

The knobs were an older model that had evolved into a peculiar mechanism that would either let the thief in or lock the owner out of the room. The tenants have to resort to personally installing barrel bolts for extra security, while less concerned people are more direct by just simply using padlocks whenever they leave their residence.

What’s more, in a room owned by an old lady, the locks are superficial.

Trivett stood in the center of the small house, which was dimly lit thanks to the heavy flowery velvet drapes that hung from the old wooden jalousie windows. The stale, musty odor pervaded the air, reminding him of his grandfather's house, along with the odor of an unclean litter box and a stinky bathroom. Despite this, it didn't smell terrible, which was probably owing to the geraniums thriving on the window sill.

He strode over to the window and moved the curtains aside. The wooden window had to be pried open as it appeared to be stuck. Because the elderly lady lost the ability to open it, it had been left shut for so long that the hinges had gotten rusty, generating layers of dust to pile up on the panes. When Trivett lifted it, the dust scrambled frantically in the air, adding a musky stench from the rotting sides of the gaunt frame.

This side of the apartment conveniently overlooks the sun’s now apparent rays from the summit. The orangey color seeped through the panes, bathing his ghastly face in the early morning flush. It wasn’t terrible, just sultry enough to dispel the coldness of the retreating night.

The light reflected in Trivett’s eyes. Under direct light, the halo of the irises seemed dark. It projected a sharp sense of purpose with a tone of unspeakable reverence. The speck drifted beneath the calm atmosphere, giving the impression that nothing bloody had occurred. Trivett blinked, his brows casting a shadow.

Muffled footsteps approached him from behind. He didn't have to turn around to see who it was. The jalousie was lowered, producing a shallow screeching sound. The dust blasted out once more, wildly scattering around and dispersing in all directions.

The perspective shifted. The streets of the neighborhood are well visible from this location. Trivett could see the evacuated people, most of whom were cuddling close to their families in an attempt to stay warm. The stationed officers were keeping a tight guard around them, keenly observing the area for probable danger. The blue and red blaring lights from the vehicles were not as vivid and stunning in the morning light as they were at night.

Myles tiptoed over the carpeted floor, which was crammed with various materials. The room is very small from the start with furniture already eating half of the place. Mrs. Silva seems to be a chronic hoarder. The books, newspapers, magazines, and tabloids dated way back to the early 2000s were strewn around, obviously been frequently browsed by the owner. There is also the aforementioned cassette radio with the tape still resting inside.

The walls were plastered with olive green striped wallpaper that could be barely recognized due to the faded color. Cut-out travel destination scenes from travel posters were placed on cheap frames decorated one side of the wall, along with a seashell curtain linked to a plastic boho plant. A tin-capped clear jar held pale-hued orbeez, and next to it was a smaller recycled mayonnaise bottle used as a makeshift piggy bank.

Myles walked past through an old one-sitter cabriole sofa that is already brown and grimy, with some parts patched and springs overlooking. A blue-colored fluffy towel was carelessly draped over as if trying to cover the dirt but only made the state more obvious due to the contrast. The divan beside it is also not in a good state. The meter-long seat is littered with dander and cat fur, giving off an itchy look.

A mewl broke the silence. A chocolate-colored Siamese cat walked towards Trivett, lovingly brushing its sleek and glossy fur to his ragged boot, probably liking its rough texture. Its striking blue eyes blinked in satisfaction, and as if calling for more attention, acted out to bite the officer’s pants.

Trivett lowered his gaze and knelt. He rubbed the cat's cheeks. Myles took a few steps towards the kitchen, which were only a few feet away from the living room.

The kitchen is tiny. The countertop, fridge, oven, sink, and cupboard are crammed in a square area. The tabletops were filled with various kitchen utensils, pans hooked on the walls, plates, and cups dumped neatly in a shelf rack, and spices in jars piled up on the corner. There is even a pile of groceries just bought the other day.

Myles opened the fridge and found it stocked with plastic containers and medicine bottles. Recognizing nothing worthy, he moved to the sink where he was confronted with unwashed plates, most likely from last night’s dinner. The other cat had been warily eyeing him for a while and seeing him standing at the sink led it to tacitly assume it was feeding time. The two cats leaped onto the countertop and waited for the meal to be served.

Myles did not hesitate and went in quest of the cat food. Trivett moved over to the small rooms on the side while Myles was feeding the cat. The living room and the kitchen are linked. There is one room for the bathroom and a separate one for the bedroom. Trivett pushed the unlocked door open and find the bedroom in a similar state as the rest of the house.

There are numerous objects stacked on top of one another. It wasn't, however, sloppy. The bed is only big enough for one person, slightly lower than a typical bed. Surprisingly, the beddings are clean and tidy; it seems to be changed frequently. There are small pillows and beds in the corner, most likely for the cats to sleep on.

A scratchy sound buzzed. Trivett pressed the button on the walkie-talkie as he shifted his eyes towards the corner of the room.

“Yes… we found her. She is dead.”

She is already dead when they found her. She is sitting in a recliner, one hand cradling a book, a warmer draped around her legs. It should have been a routine activity, and maybe more often than usual, she would fall asleep in that position before waking up late at midnight where she will move to the bed to sleep more comfortably.

Buts she didn’t make it last night.

Mrs. Silva died in her sleep.

When they entered, they saw the cat mewling around the lady as if trying to wake her up. Even after the cats nipped her hands and cheeks, the elderly lady remained unresponsive.

The cats must be very hungry. 

The vivid maple leaf scorched across half of her face, still looking vivid despite being dead for many hours. Trivett covered her relaxed face with a clean towel. The danger of Autumn will be eliminated once the person is dead. They did not need to worry. After confirming that they are done, the two of them left the apartment.

The people responsible for clean-up arrived shortly. Trivett and Myles left after settling some accounts. On their way down, they passed Jaerim’s room. He could still remember that strange feeling of danger from that person. Jaerim doesn’t look like someone who could hurt a fly but his senses are telling him otherwise.

Those black eyes bore nothing but hollowed anticipation. It is as if an animal is desperately clinging for its life, hoping for a miracle to happen. But the person does not simply believe in the superficial. Only asking for a miracle is not enough. It needs effort and exceptional faith in the unknown.

Thinking about it, it wasn’t dangerous. Trivett misinterpreted the message from those eyes. Those eyes are someone who believed they will survive. Then, why would he have that kind of expression?

Myles noticed its leader standing, staring at the door.

“Sir? Is there something wrong?”

Trivett did not give him any answer. He just instantly broke in, kicking the door without mercy. The place is already old from the start, and with the locks not working, one kick is enough to open the room. Myles was taken aback by the sudden intrusion. He couldn't figure out what his boss was up to.

The windows are covered with curtains that left the room poorly lit. There is the stench of alcohol permeated in the air mixed with a hint of antiseptic. A shadowed figure strode towards the wall where the switch was turned on, lighting the expanse of the whole room. One glance is enough to record the area. Only a few steps to the left, the bedroom could be found.

“This guy is somewhat tidy,” Myles said, as he made his way around the place.

He sneaked a peek on the nearby trash, examining the contents like an interested raccoon. After that, he walked towards the small table in the center where a couple of university books were neatly piled up. He picked the first book on the top and read it in his mind: Engineering and the Mind’s eye by Eugene S. Ferguson.

Trivett is more interested in the bedroom. The place is also neat, just the bed is messy as if the person didn’t have enough time to clean them. Pair of wet stained clothes was strewn to the bed, soaking the beddings wet. Myles followed inside the room to inspect it but his eyes immediately noticed the flickering light coming from the bathroom.

It’s strange. The whole flat is shrouded with darkness, only this part had its light turned on.

The two officers exchanged glances and proceeded to the small room. The walls of the bathroom were half tiled – the upper portion still bare from the unpainted plasters. A ceramic vanity sink faced the door forefront, with rusty piping and yellowed under surface. Just a feet closer is the toilet bowl, a tissue rolled just above the closed seat. A thin curtain separated the bathtub that had been fit snuggly to the walls.

There are items littered on the sink, such as a toothbrush, half-filled toothpaste, and a razor. A bottle of antiseptic has been left open, with cotton swabs and the gauze wrapper lying close. Though, the most vivid against the ceramic sink is the stain of blood in the corner.

Trivett had a bad feeling about this. The blood's color and texture did not appear to be old. When they looked closely, they discovered more bloodstains, particularly on the razor that had been clumsily put on the corner. But the blades are gone so they have to push the other things aside just to find the small sharp object lying under the gauze wrap. 

The inch-size blade flickered a sharp glint. Though, only a part of it remained recognizable since the whole object has been obscured by something dark brown. It chipped off when Myles tried to remove it. The adhesiveness of dried blood wasn't really strong. 

In a closer inspection, a thin layer of film was clinging on the sharp side of the blade. It wasn't long; the thickness wasn't uniformed, but quite translucent against the light. The corners had been curled and brittle, but the mid-part still have a bit of flesh on it.

He examined the curled film and confirmed that it was human skin.

“What is this…?”

Myles quivered, his back cold from sweat. He had only attended seminars and a few peaceful patrols so this is his first time encountering such a terrible thing. 

The hand clutching the curled-up skin trembled, wanting to toss it away and wash his hands multiple times. The subtle feeling of skin lingered despite wearing gloves. It made his stomach churn. 

On the other hand, Trivett did not seem affected. He had seen a lot of things in his years of service and had executed people with his two hands. Just seeing a peeled part of the human body is lighter compared to the carcass left by the impaled dead bodies. 

He examined the sink closer and found more strips of skin stuck on the net blocking the sink. It had paled from getting soaked by water but the texture of the vivid orange is still visible. Trivett took the scanner from Myles and pointed it towards the skin.

It blinked – giving an affirmative.

The scanner only scans the discoloration of the body. It can differentiate other pigmentation, such as moles, birthmarks, tattoos, and wounds. The maple leaf has been scraped off so the scanner gave a negative. 

"That person is actually an Autumn?" Myles reacted more openly. 

They have been suspicious with Jaerim but that person acted so flawlessly. He could not help but to look at the mirror, to look at his paling expression, then to skin stuck to the blade. With the short time given for escape, that person scraped off the skin of his cheeks with hesitation. 

He could not even do that despite his job as an officer. 

"Let's go," Trivett had long contacted the people about the discrepancy. The report only stated one person, ignoring the other one present nearby. To be honest, this is the first time he encountered double Autumns in close proximity. 

No wonder the number of probable deaths is high. 

The two officers rushed out to search for the escaped Autumn. No matter what, they have to catch him before death comes by. In this world, one thing that is faster than light is death. 

It had become the race against time.