Dark Absentia: Blood Infernal Chapter Five

I pull up to Parker's home, parking my cruiser hastily. A three-story villa in the upper east side area. It was quiet; nothing unusual about that on a typical day like this. The sun was out, and school would be out in a couple hours. Parker's neon blue Mercedes Benz is parked in his driveway. His black Rolls-Royce is probably in the garage. I made my way up the marble-paved driveway, making sure to peek inside the car. Ever since we served in the Corp, Parker has had a solid grasp on things. He saved my life numerous times. I continued investigating the car. Nothing was out of place, from what I could tell.

The doors are locked, and it looks fine. I turn and head for the front door. I carefully look through the windows. The curtains were closed shut, blocking any line of sight inside. Even the windows beside the door were shut. An ominous feeling eats away at my insides. There was no sign of anything wrong. I hover at the door for a few moments, listening for any sounds of occupants. Not even a peep, and the air was still. Like in a horror movie before something dreadful occurs. This was the real world, not a movie. There was no suspenseful music or sudden jump scares. Real life doesn't work that way. It's bland, mediocre, and less than entertaining. 'What was I expecting?' In all likelihood, Parker was engrossed in work in his study or out running errands.

The man had a few cars. Just because his treasured neon blue Benz was parked out front wasn't a sign of endangerment. I rang the doorbell a few times. No answer, so I knock loudly on the front door. The strong force from my knock cracks the door open. 'Shit, not good.' As a muscle reflex, I draw my sidearm and flashlight. Using my foot, I push the door open. The place is a mess, concealed by the curtains being closed from prying eyes. No one would be the wiser. I hold a position in the foyer, placing my back against the left wall. I holster my flashlight and call for backup.

"Dispatch," a woman said.

"This is Detective Hunt, badge number 412025; I got a possible B&E. Requesting backup immediately. Possible civilian in distress," I said, giving her the address.

"Copy that; units are on the way," the dispatcher said after confirming the address.

I move into the living room, finding a mess. Someone really shredded the place apart. My first thoughts are about a robbery gone wrong. I couldn't reconcile with that train of thought. 'What was the call about yesterday evening?' There were no signs of blood from what I could tell, but that doesn't mean a thing. The room was clear, and I spotted the phone on the floor. Its light was beeping for missed calls. I pick it up and listen to the messages. There's about a dozen from Mrs. Davenport alone and other random people. Probably clients of his or his sister Harper. This was their shared house, even though both were married. They mainly used it for late work days. Parker stayed here most of the time, if I remember right. Still, there were no messages from Lorelei, Demi, or Camilla. Not even from my brother's lawyers. 'Maybe he called from his phone?' That didn't sit well, either. All his calls from his cellphone were routed to his office or here.

I swept the kitchen next. Another mess presented itself. Food and dishes were thrown everywhere like wild animals during a feeding frenzy. The fridge is left ajar, its contents half consumed or all over the counters and cabinets. I moved to the den next to Parker's study. The scene was the same here. Next, I enter the study. On the floor, a laptop sat open with the screen on. There were pictures in a gallery slide. I recognized the images. They were photos from his time overseas. Some of them were disturbing. Shots of the things we saw over there. I close my eyes, combating the memories that threatened to flood my mind. The shadowy figures in the night would taunt us on night watch. Or the things that terrorized our troops that appeared out of thin air only to vanish just as fast after an ambush. 'How did Parker get these photos?' I pick the computer up and check the timestamp. The photos came via an email dated four weeks ago. While Parker was on vacation. The email was last seen yesterday night. Parker sent a response asking who sent this shortly after viewing the email. This confirmed that he was home last night. I spot a plane ticket on the floor and a set of car keys. Kneeling down, I read the ticket. It read that his flight returned last night, an hour before he read the email. That sounds about right. It would take an hour to get here from the airport.

A rumbling comes from somewhere upstairs. My body stiffened at the sudden noise. The notion that this was one of those times you wait for backup crossed my mind. I backtrack back through the study. I open the door to the garage. It was clear, and his Rolls-Royce was present. That rules out a robbery. A burglar would snatch that without a second thought. Another slightly louder sound comes from upstairs. This time, it sounded like a guttural growl. The hairs on my neck stood up, followed by a deep chill. It felt like the temperature dropped to below zero. I could see my breath as I let out an exhale. That ominous feeling flew into full swing. A sharp screech fills the home, nearly blowing my eardrums out. Suddenly I felt the need to vacate the premises as fast as I could.

I move back to the living room quietly. Sirens roar loudly in the distance. The smoke of burnt flesh fills my nose. As I approach the stairs, I can see smoke creeping down the stairs like a snake. Unnaturally hugging the floor. The sight alone caused me to pause. I point my sidearm at the top of the staircase. An orange flickering glow came from somewhere out of sight. Another guttural growl echoes out of sight. 'What the hell is up there???' I didn't want to go upstairs. To find out what was making those sounds. My instinct was telling whatever that sound was, was unnatural.

"Parker? Are you up there? This is Detective Hunt?" I said, like an idiot.

The sound of movement increases. They were heavy steps, too heavy. As if a giant was stomping the ground. The house shook violently. I move up against the wall and hold my aim steady. More black smoke creeps along the ceiling. As I crest the top of the staircase, I scan both sides of the hallway when I hear a voice.

"H-Help…," a man's voice said faintly.

"Parker??? Is that you?" I said louder, more firmly. "Parker Wells?" I added louder.

The screech came back even louder. More terrifying than before. I scramble to cover my ears. Pain wrecks my inner ears, but I push on. What I can describe as a mix of screams and laughter fills the house. It was coming from the third floor. Coming from all around me and nowhere at the same time. My vision blurs, and a heavy weight rests on my shoulders. Even the air felt heavy, weighted down by an unseen force. Sweat rolls down my forehead. There must be a fire in the attic, yet it was deadly cold throughout the house to this point. Parker cries out again. His scream is filled with torment and agony. Against my better judgment, I rush upon the second flight of stairs to the next floor. The closer I got, the sound of screaming grew more intense and desperate.

"Eddie!!!!" Parker yelled frantically.

I sprinted onto the floor, searching hastily for Parker. His voice was coming from the attic. I spot the lowered ladder to the space in the middle of the hallway. A column of the darkest smoke I have ever seen pours from the attic. Bursting past me, clouding my vision. I heard the whimpering of a man in absolute agony. Smoke fills my mouth as I call out my friend's name.

"Parker! I'm coming!" I yelled in between coughing.

The heat was unbearable as I climbed up the ladder. As if the heat was confined to the attic alone. The sudden shift from freezing cold to smothering heat caught me off, guard. An almost blind light came from the far side of the attic. I could barely see anything, but I could see Parker. He was clear as day, kneeling with his hands bound before him. My friend was all I could see. Surrounded by an intense orange glow. 'Is that fire???' I could see the silhouette of a figure behind him. Just barely enough to make out a shape. The shine was so bright it stung my eyes. I cover my eyes with my free hand while trying to move closer. Every step was like moving at the bottom of the ocean. Gravity acts as an adversary working against me. My footstep slammed into the ground with a painful, draining effort. My body suddenly feels weak. I could feel my skin sizzling from the intense heat. There was a denseness to the heat, a potency beyond natural. It was alive. Threatened to consume me entirely and without regard. I was but utter insignificance before this sundering light. Despite my fear that Parker would disintegrate, I was tempted to hold back on getting too close to him, but this was Parker. My friend, 'How could I not save him from this horror?'

"Eddie!!!" Parker cried again.

"I'm right here, Parker!" I shouted.

Our eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. Parker's eyes had the sign of a man knowing his death was moments away. I fight against the heat with every ounce of strength I have left. Fear bellows deep in my very being. I felt a gaze upon my very soul. Something dark and evil. A force beyond our feeble minds could understand, let alone process. Then as if a switch was flipped. A cold burst of air replaces the heat. Pulling all ambient heat towards Parker and the silhouette figure. My skin chills to the point I thought I'd freeze to death. Everything seems to stand still. Time had stopped for the world except for Parker and me. He looked at me for a long moment and said something. I heard them loud and clear, yet I couldn't accept it. I watch as the man I grew up with closes his eyes. Both of us fought side by side in Afghanistan. The swirling light engulfs him in a swift motion. A prolonged flash blinds me. A force of heat and sheer power rockets me backways. I feel my body slam against the attic walls. My body is flung about like I was paper caught in a tornado. The world went dark around me before my consciousness slipped into darkness itself.