KNOX
It's cold.
That's the first thing I realize. No, not the sharp, intense kind, but rather a deeply uncomfortable chill-dull, soaking, bone-deep. Like the fog around me crawled into my insides and decided to stay. My thoughts are slow, my clothes glued to my skin along with grains of sand.
My head is throbbing. Slow, painful waves, like my brain itself is trying to expand out of the confines of my skull. I finally register where I am after a minute. I'm lying beside a river, surrounded by pine trees.
I stagger to my feet, suddenly swept by overwhelming nausea, reaching through my guts until I throw up inside the river, feeling sorry for the poor fish that seemingly give me a side eye as they pass for polluting their home. For a second, the clear water is tempting to quench my deeply parched throat. I restrain, who knows what's really going on in there.
In a heartbeat, I remember running through the dark, looking for someone. Falling...
A noise pulls me out of my thoughts. Loud, sharp sound. A siren, a police siren.
Ellis.
The thought hits me hard. I make my way towards the sound.
He looks at me with comprehension, his shirt ripped and dyed red, his glasses cracked, before staring back at the creature coming towards me. The only source of illumination was the almost full moon overhead. I can see him for whatever reason, only me.
I grab a tree for support as memories of the previous night replay in my head. Forcing reluctant air into my lungs. ahead of me, men in uniform gather around a place separated from the world with yellow tape. My stomach drops.
"Ellis?" My voice comes out weak, barely a sound. Only a whisper, a mere utter filled with dread and uncertainty, dry like my cracking lips.
"Hey dipshit," he calls, waving his left arm frantically to gain the wolf-man's attention- he couldn't wave the other, it was wounded or dislocated, I think. "I'm the one you want, not him." The words echo in the dim forest. His croaky voice masked with false courage as he turns away and runs. The creature is following him. I hear him scream before picking myself up and tearing out of there, only to fall into the river, unable to pick myself up. Drowning and drowning...
"Oh God."
Was any of this real... Oh, silly me, I was drunk last night, of course, none of all that was real. Its an illusion that's taking space in my head instead of memories, mere imaginations caused by a teen boy who had way too much to drink for his first time
Although the sirens and that hollow part of my gut tell me otherwise. I see a stretcher being rolled out by a team of paramedics. Take another step.
A stretcher.
White sheets.
Still, too still
"Hey, kid, what are you doing here?" A voice calls, but I don't have time to respond; if I do, my alcohol induced nightmare may just win and become reality.
A cop turns, startled, and for half a second, no one blocks my view.
They lift the sheet.
Ellis.
His mouth is slightly open, like he was about to say something and never got the chance. There's some dirt on his cheek.
His dark eyes stare back at me, lifeless, frozen, just as the paramedics are placing him inside a body bag, a familiar face, so familiar that it shreds my soul. Ripped, bloodied clothes, flies already gathering the now empty shell, full of life mere hours ago. The world slows down like I'm moving through gelatin or something thick and liquid like the bloodied hand stretching out of Ellis's body bag, a medic having some difficulty in shoving it back behind the zipper. It can't be, this is impossible, yet I know it's true, deep down to my bones
Ellis Callahan is dead.
Ellis Callahan is dead.
Dead.
Your fault.
He's dead, and it's all because of you.
The world spins around me, this time not because of the numbness of alcohol but its aftereffects mixed with pain and torment.
Dead.
I don't remember falling, but suddenly I'm on my knees, the sound tearing out of me not quite a scream, not quite anything human.
"No-no-he was right there," I choke, my arm reaching towards where the medics are taking the body of my best friend to where dead things go. "He was yelling-I didn't-Ellis, I didn't hear you-"
Arms wrap around me again, tighter this time. Familiar arms.
"Knox." His voice cracks straight down the middle. "Knox, listen to me. You're in shock. You need to breathe."
My dad.
"I should've stayed," I sob. The words pour out, messy and useless. "I should've followed him. He didn't want to go alone-he didn't-" I remember the
"I know," my dad says, gripping me like I might disappear if he lets go. "I know."
The world starts to fade at the edges. The lights smear into long, ugly streaks, bright. The sounds dull, like I'm underwater again. Floating in the darkness.
He's dead, and it's all your fault.
Dead... He died. He's dead.
Slowly, I feel my body go limp, my vision blurs, and my dad holds me. I can hear him yelling for someone.
Ellis is dead...
I don't feel anything as I'm ushered into the police station. I'm giving water, and a chubby police woman offers me coffee, but I simply shake my head. Now, I'm sitting inside the reception, only vaguely aware of my parched throat and bloodied hand.
My dad left earlier to attend to some things, or whatever, regarding the murder. From the corner of my blurry vision, I see that fat police woman approach me. Her hands on my shoulder are warm. "You should change now." She places a pair of grey sweats on my arms, along with a bottle of water. "We'll need you in the interrogation room soon. Do you think you can handle that?" Her voice is soft, pressure-free, like a kind, distant aunt. I nod.
The chair is plastic and too small, as if it resents my weight. My hands won't stop buzzing. Not shaking - buzzing - like someone wired my veins to a bad outlet. The room smells like coffee soaked into old paperwork mixed with some metallic tang.
The room is small. A large black window on one side, I've watched enough movies to know that some detectives are standing at the other side, watching me.
They can see you, but you can't see them.
"Ok, son, would you like to walk me through what happened last night again?" The detective sits across from me with a notebook closed, which somehow feels worse than if it were open, like some deviant is nestled between its pages. He keeps saying my name the way teachers say it when they think you cheated.
"Knox?"
The sweats are comfy at least. I look around. The lights are bright, so bright, they burn my eyes.
"Knox?" I blink, the detective looking at me with some blank expression in his eyes. "Do you want to walk me through what happened last night?" He repeats.
"W-we were at a party."
"Yes, we know," He opens the notebook and writes something down. "Anything out of place or strange?"
"No... I mean, I don't know, I don't remember what happened after I left."
"You went into the woods. Why?"
"To look for him, I-i think."
"Your friend who went into the woods," he leans forward, "after you two argued." That surprises me, clears a foggy memory, Ellis laughing, the music too loud, my voice too sharp, a moment like a spark catching dry leaves. I shake my head, and I instantly regret it. The room tilts, finding a new gravity, and my head throbs even louder.
"It wasnt like that," I breathe out, " we argue all the time over stupid things."
He scribbles something in his notebook, "What kind of things?"
"Is that really important?" I want to sleep, water. My arm grabs a bottle from the table, and I take a sip, the liquid like honey as it traces down my throat. I finally realize how thirsty I am and down the entire bottle in one gulp.
"Normal teen stuff like parties, girls." My voice rises as an indescribable feeling burns out the remaining intoxicant from my veins.
"Look, this isnt important. I know who did this, and you have start looking for him."
"Oh, please enlighten me." That fucking indifferent look is still prevalent in his eyes, like an adult talking to an ignorant toddler.
"It was a man." My voice nearly cracks at the end.
"A man?"
"A large man, but not really. " He leans in again, shifting the voice recorder closer to me, "he had hair, everywhere, no shirt," I'm about to sound insane, aren't I? "Glowing red eyes ," in my mind, the memory plays, I can forget everything that happened last night but not this, this monster, "these, bloody claws instead of fingernails," the beast howls, "and it looked familiar."
"How so?"
I look away. "I-i can't explain it, but familiar like," My eyes latch onto my fiddling thumbs, "like the embodiment of this town itself." That doesn't make sense, but it feels true. It looked like, the fog and the woods, like the secrets and everything about this town wrapped into one, menacing figure.
Please believe me.
The detective sighs, leaning back into his chair, as if disappointed. He finally says something after a minute or two, " So you think you saw a man in a costume?"
"No, did you listen to anything I just fucking said!" My hand slams on the table, a myriad of different emotions overcoming any thought of proper conduct. "It wasnt a costume, it looked like some weird cross between man and dog or coyote or."
Wolf
"Kid, I understand you're scared, you're probably traumatised, but you can't expect me to believe the boogey man was the one that killed Ellis."
I stand up from my seat, realizing I don't have to listen to this asshole anymore. "Go fuck yourself," I make my way towards the exit.
"Kid, come back here, we're not finished!" He demands, I face him once more, a dry smile tracing my lips.
"The Fifth Amendment," I snarl, "I am invoking my right to remain silent. I want to speak with a fucking lawyer." 1
The door shuts behind me, and I lean on it for a moment as the hole in my chest threatens to devour me. Steeling my resolve, I head out of the police station.
A hand grabs my shoulder. I turn to see my dad again, a frown on his face.
"Knox, what was that?" Aha, so he was at the other side of the glass, "Come back so we can finish the interview." He orders, the voice of an investigator.
That inexplicable rage comes back with a force, "I'm done with this crap." I push his hand away.
"Knox, listen to me-"
"No! You listen to me." I feel the eyes of everyone at the station on me, but I don't give a fuck, "My best friend just died, and the killer is still out there, so if you guys won't catch him, I will."
"Knox!" He calls, but doesn't stop me as I leave the police station, determination slowly devouring my entire being, my reason for existing now, find the killer.
Find the monster, because if the police won't do their stupid job, I'll just fucking have to do it for them.