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‘Fucking hell’ he spoke with shock.

There were more than he had planned on, the complete folder would take him longer than expected to digest. He focused on the first twenty for the night………..he reached eighteen when his eye lids began to close.

***

Jack had sat at his desk. The news from Sally had been more than he had hoped. Finally the pieces were coming together, his boat dream of retirement was closing in, he longed for the freedom. He leant back and placed his feet upon his desk, the sigh escaped his mouth and turned into a long drawn out yawn. He was feeling exhausted, the case was non-stop and he realised that this was the exact reason his ex-wife had left him, you’re not married to me!.....you’re married to that fucking job! They were the words she had used, he did recall a few more curses that were thrown in his direction but that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that she was right, and the sad thing was it had taken him his marriage and most of his life to realise that. He chose not to dwell on the past, his future lay with the case, this exact moment would determine the outcome that he longed for, he wasn’t going to stop until he had closed the file and earned his leaving party.

He removed the crushed packet of cigarettes from his trouser pocket and shook the contents, the sticks rattled inside, telling him that he was low on smokes. He removed one and lit the end. He welcomed the relaxing effect it brought him.

He placed his notebook upon his legs and flipped through the pages, reading over the details he had jotted down whilst on the case. He reached the eighth page and noticed the words Press Conference in bold letters.

‘Shit’ he spat, the accumulated ash dropping on his grey suit pants.

He had forgotten about the conference for the second victims family, he panicked and reached for the phone, the dents in the handset reminded him of the anger he showed towards Lime’s threats to Nathan. He tapped the numbers and waited for the dialling tone to finish. The call went through, he waited for the answer.

‘Hello Director Chamber’s office, how can I help?’

‘Marion, its Jack, is he in?

‘One moment Mr Crawford’ the line was placed on hold

‘Jack, what can I do for you?’ the gruff voice came

‘Sir, I’m just calling about the Press Conference for the Clough Family. Is there a date set yet?’ his voice held a slight panic which he attempted to hide.

‘That’s been sorted already, I received your paperwork two days ago Jack!’

‘My paperwork?’ confused by his bosses reply

‘Yep, I have it hear in fact….wait one’ the line went silent and the sound of a chair squeaking came through the phone, it was followed by the sifting of paper.

‘You still there Jack?’

‘Yes Sir’

‘I have the copy that you signed stating that you have handed all interviews and conferences to another party, dated from…..yep, two days ago. I think your old age is kicking in my friend’ he finished with a deep chuckle

‘I see, can I ask, who the person or persons are that I handed it too Sir?’

‘Of course, Doctor William Lime no controls the press coverage. He has booked tomorrow as the conference date, will you be attending?’

No Sir, sadly I can’t, thank you Sir, apologies for bothering you’

‘No need Jack, get some rest’ the call was ended.

Lime, that fucking snake. He came to terms with the fact that Lime must have forged his signature to complete to handover process, his blood boiled and he felt another launching of his phone approach. His dreams of retirement were clouded by the Doctor, he had Nathan removed and now he was focusing on stealing Jack’s light. He removed another cigarette and torched the tip with the flame, he inhaled deeply.

‘Fucking wanker’ he shouted whilst exhaling.

***

He sat up, the boy’s dead eyes looking straight at him. He scanned the room; the blood had gone, soaked away through the carpet. He turned back to the body, it too had disappeared. He gathered himself to his feet, the wheel brace lay upon the floor and he reached down to collect it. The low grumble made him freeze stiff, it came from behind him. He attempted to look past his leg, trying to keep his frame as still as possible. The corner was hidden by darkness. The shadows were too black to peer through. He tapped the carpet with his finger tips and located the weapon. He had struck the beast, he was sure of that. But now it lay behind him, lurking somewhere in the shadows of his mind. He turned slowly to face the creature. Come on you bastard, show yourself…………show yourself. The words in his head weren’t heard by his opponent, it remained hidden to his front. The silver body of his torch poked out from the darkness, the handle caught his eye. Shit. He edged closer, his steps were small. The growl came from the shadow, he stopped to observe.

‘Don’t you fuck with me…..don’t you fucking dare!’ he spat the warning, his eyes searched the black space. His feet began to move once again, closer and closer to his objective. He stopped and knelt down an arm’s reach from the lighting aid. He watched his front, his mind showing movement with the depths of black. He wanted to snatch the torch, his mind telling him to back-up, to move away. Fuck it.

He grabbed for the torch, grasping it in one hand. The high pitch shriek stung his ear as it came from his right. He spun on the spot and fired the light towards its location. The boy stood in the beam next to his body, the throat torn open and blood flowing from the wound. Nathan fell backwards as the scare struck him. The torch hit the floor. It rolled on the spot. The creature was illuminated for short spaces of time as the beam crossed it in its spin. It seized, the light illuminating part of the corner. The fur moved as the beast breathed, its air blew the hair on its arms as it exhaled heavily. Nathan tried to stand but the beast leapt for him. Its large head clashed with his chest and sent him backwards over the bed. He pushed his body from the floor, his eyes searching for his foe.

‘Where are you……come on you fucker, where are……’

His foot was grasped and his body was dragged under the bed. The teeth ripped his flesh, the blood spewed into his face.

***

William Lime entered his apartment and ensured the door was fully closed behind him. He locked the catch and hooked the chain into place. The removal of his coat lifted a weight from his shoulders and he hung it up upon the rack by the door. He turned the dimmer clockwise, it offered a small click as the lighting burned to life. He kept it low, setting the relaxing mood. The night had approached quickly and he had only just finished preparing for the press conference the next day. His time to shine was nearing, he felt the excitement rush through him in an electric wave. The kitchen was as clean and tidy as usual, he set his standards high, giving the well-educated and professional appearance. He removed a bottle of red wine from the rack and sat it upon the unit. The cork gave a low pop as it was pulled from the neck, the instant aroma filled his nostrils. He collected a large glass and moved to the living room, the bottle wedged between two fingers.

The leather sofa stretched as he lowered himself onto it. The music started as he pressed the button on the small remote.

‘Ahhhhhhh, Beethoven, who else could comfort me in a time like this?’ the red liquid was poured to the top as Moonlight Sonata eased his tension. He sat back, allowing his body to recuperate. The alcohol went down like a treat, he classed himself as a connoisseur of fine wines, swilling the liquid against the insides of his cheeks before swallowing.