Chasing the "Shadow" (Eternal Wanderer x Bombielonia)

[SilentMadness]

...all the while, police has not yet managed to uncover the identity of the serial killer self named "Shadow" as has been seen in a few riddled notes left by him at the crime scenes. Reports speak of...





"Switch the... channel and gi'mme another shot..." Mumbled the drunk man as he lifted his head heavily off the bar. Drunk green eyes searched confused for the face of the bartender, that was occupying himself with cleaning yet again the glasses, while a TV set in a corner ran, as a background sound. The bar was empty, as the hour was already about 12 o'clock. Only a man sat, with a precarious balance on a high stool, at the bar. Before him was an empty bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey and an empty shot glass. The man looked well in his 40's, and his physical aspect was making him look like a homeless. His hair, grown out to a level below his ears, was ruffled and dirty, betraying the fact that he hasn't taken a shower in weeks. His face wore the signs of continuous lack of sleep, with hollow eyes and slight wrinkles on the forehead. His eyes were bloodshot and his gaze was lost, drowned in the effect of the so much alcohol he has been consuming. His clothes were dirty, a once white shirt that lain on his body, a pair of worn out jeans with dirt stains especially on the knees and a pair of old shoes that started catching holes in the sole.


The bartender, hearing the drunk man's mumbling, turned his attention to him, and spoke, calmly.


"Sir, i think you've had enough for tonight. Go home and sleep"


The drunk male made a grimace at hearing the bartender's words, and grabbing the empty glass shot he slammed it against the wooden bar, in a demanding manner.


"I don't give a... damn on your opinion. You fill this fucking shot without... question, okay?!?"


The bartender switched his calm for a slight anger, while grabbing the empty bottle and the shot, and, placing them away, he ordered the drunk man.


"Okay, you get out. Now! Else i'll call the cops"


The drunk man stared at the young bartender, with a slight shock in his drunken gaze. A sardonic smile spread across his lips, before tears started emerging from beneath his weary eyes.


"Cops?... Hah, cops... they won't help you... kid. Where the hell were those cops when my family got murdered, one by one?!? Where? For sure they weren't where they... should have been. Don't threaten me with the law... the law is weak and takes it up the ass every damn time a murderer shows... up."


The man huffed before climbing off the stool. His balance was extremely weak, and, on his stumbling towards the exit, he was close to stumbling into a table and falling over it. He managed to find his way out, and in the night, he stumbled all the way towards his apartment, situated in a poor ghetto block. Crawling up the stairs, more on all four than on two steps, he finally found the way to his door, and entering the apartment, he fell down on the floor, falling asleep before he could get up to go to the bed.

 

[Bombielonia]

...all the while, police has not yet managed to uncover the identity of the serial killer self named "Shadow" as has been seen in a few riddled notes left by him at the crime scenes. Reports speak of yet another victim fell to "Shadow"...-


The woman raised the remote and pressed a certain button to mute the television before looking down, she was sat cross-legged on her bed, with pile sof paper spread out on it.. It was about everything she had gathered around 'Shadow'. "Who are you?" The woman sealed her lips in thought, her jet black hair would've reached down her shoulders if it wasn't tied in a small bun that kept it out of view as she did her 'work', though that didn't stop some locks of hair from framing her face, which she kept pushing back behind her ear every now and then.


She then reached down to the nightstand by the bed which is where she put her glass of water; she leaned back to sit properly, the remote was under her right foot as she accidentally un-muted it! She widened her eyes in fright, the television was un-muted and she accidentally spilled it over herself, the papers and sheet. "No! No no no no!-.." She frowned and quickly put the glass back down on the night stand as she began collecting the soaked papers up, before just tossing them on the carpeted floor, taking a deep breath as she raises her hands and places one hand on another, and the other on her head. She was frustrated, tired, fatigued.. she's been working on something other than her work for a while now, she even took a medical leave for some time just because of that bastard, Shadow.


"Shadow.. Shadow.." She mumbled with a sigh as she lowered her hands before taking out her cell phone, gnawing on her lower lip as played a voice message.. "Hello, bubblecup! I miss you.. and why are you not picking up the phoooneee? Come on! I want to talk to you! Oh-.. shit, I gotta go now, the pizza delivery man is by the door! Ciao Ciao." This message was a in feminine voice, the woman whom played it leaned against the wall before slouching down, holding the phone with both hands as her eyes began to water, and shortly after the tears began running down her cheeks. She herself wasn't sleeping enough, judging by the black shade underneath her eyes.. But one thing caught her attention now as she looked at the television, she walked on her knees before standing, looking at the television before noticing a certain detective working on the case; she quickly hopped on the bed, grabbed a pen and a random paper from the pile offered on the bed.. (The ones which are not soaked that is.) and wrote down his name before saying.. "Bingo!" She said to herself, wiping the tears away from her reddened cheeks with her left palm.

 

[SilentMadness]

A few hours have passed since the drunk man was asleep on the floor. Beneath his eyelids, his eyes were moving, stirring wildly, as he twisted and turned.


The door to his house opened slowly, and his heartbeat increased, as he took a step in. Something wasn't right. At that hour, his wife must've been asleep. Instead, the TV was running, on mute, while the house was drowned in silence. Something was asking him not to go further, but his curiosity and the constant terror kept pushing him. And there he was, standing before the door to their bedroom, and staring at the drawing on the door. A question mark painted in blood. His heart stopped as he approached his hand to the door knob, ready to open the door and yet praying to anything that what lied beyond that door wasn't what he thought. The image of his little girl, with her intestines stretched out and wrapped about her neck still fresh in his mind. The door was pushed open, slowly, and his eyes fell upon...





With a gasp he opened his eyes, and coughed. The image of the opening door lingered in his head, in all the storm that was there. He felt his head heavy, as if it was close to exploding. His face was heated up, and his stomach was revolting. As his senses slowly returned, he felt the cold floor that sustained his body. With slow and heavy moves he tried to push himself up to stand on all fours. The darkness didn't help in his state, even more, it was aggravating everything, causing him to fail in his attempts to push himself up. What hour would it be anyway? He couldn't tell, he didn't even have an idea what day was it anymore. Slowly but surely, he managed to crawl his way through the place, and guided by only the images in his head, he found the bathroom. His stomach was revolting more and more, as if it was a sea during stormy time. He felt his mouth watering and soon after, the content of his stomach was flowing down in the water closet, as he gasped and gurgled.


Finally, he found strenght enough to push himself up, while he felt the room spinning around him. Stumbling across the small space, he managed to turn a light on, and sit on his bed, the messy bed he hasn't been doing eversince he started drinking himself into comas and whatnot. On the small bedside cabinet lain a picture, A picture of himself, when he still worked. Himself, with his wife, and his daughter. Now they all but smiled to him from the picture, making him feel even more guilty. How could i not protect them? Why didn't i take care of them? He asked himself as tears started running on his face. Defeated, he lain on the bed, holding the picture to himself and staring in void without falling asleep, until late in the morning.

 

[Bombielonia]

Tick-tock.. Tick-tock.. Tick-tock!


[media]



[/media]
Ooooo.. OOOOH. Ouuh.. Here comes the boo--...


Her phone vibrated and emitted that loud noise, it was her morning alarm, which she lazily slammed her hand against her phone too wipe her finger across the screen, snoozing the alarm She covered her face with the blanket before kicking her blankets away, she had something to do today, but she couldn't get here mind on what it was.. But she did know with time she'll remember.


She put one foot on the ground before the other, sitting up as she lazily yawned, sliding off of the bed and shuffling her foot to the bathroom, where she went to do the usual daily morning duty before going to the small kitchen in the apartment, which wasn't expensive, nor cheap.. Moderate so to say.


Her apartment had one room, one bath room, one kitchen and the main part, the living room. The woman loves her apartment clean, but due recent evens she hadn't been free to clean it. Well, back to what she was doing, oh yeh, going to the kitchen. She finally had reached the kitchen before taking a mug with a '' on it, not a heart, a literal '' shape, in white as the mug is red. She put it under the coffe machine and clicks a button, it began working and heating up to prepare the coffe, meanwhile she turned to open her cabinet and take out some toast, and opening the fridge to take out some cheese. She puts the the toast in the microwave and presses '3'.. and then '0', setting the microwave to heat the toast for 30 seconds as she turns back to her mug of coffe, which was now filled as it steamed, the scent of it filling her lungs. She picked it up and blew into it, before inhaling deeply, letting the scent of the coffee fill her lungs, the woman closed her eyes as she embraced the scent, closing her eyes before opening them as her brief phase-out was interrupted by the beeping of the microwave, she opened it and took the toast, before instantly dropping it within the microwave, licking on her finger before trying again, taking the toast and quickly dropping it on the kitchen counter, placing the cheese within as she then made her self a small sandwich, finally enjoying her little meal.


Around fifteen minutes later she had already finished her meal, she didn't bother clenaing it as she went to take a quick shower, which had only lasted ten minutes, she left the bathroom to go to her wardrobe, opening it to see the collection of clothes. "Hnnh.." she pondered as she viewed, widening her eyes as she finds the perfect clothes for the errands she had to do today.


She wore a some shorts and a tanktop, before wearing a blue overall and carrying a small sling-bag over her shoulder, she takes her mobile phone off of the charger and slips her feet in her shoes, after wearing some socks that is. She takes her keys from the night stand and puts on her glasses, medical glasses. She walked outside her apartment and locked the door, took the elevator downstairs to the basement, gnawing her lip as she waited and listened to the boring usual elevator music before BING! The doors open and she saw her car just infront in the parking lot, she clicked a button on her key and BEEP BEEP, the car was unlocked. She went inside and took a deep breath as she made herself comfortable in the car, plugging the key in before reaching in the car's cabinet, taking out a small cotton hair band as she does her somewhat wet hair in a quick messy bun.


Her goal was simple; look for the detective. She had researched about him before sleeping, she took his adress, phone number as he was registered to the phonebook, lucky for her. She for around thirty minutes before reaching his apartment.. She was nervous and paranoid on how this will go, she was about to offer her aid to a hard-working detective so she thought, a man whom she thought was working on the case 24/7, poor her, not exactly knowing what she'd expect soon as she buzzed his apartment.

 

[SilentMadness]

The sun. It was all in his eyes, hurting them constantly, but little did he care for it. The light in the room revealed the probably hundreds of photos taped to walls. Photos of crime scenes, and victims. Girls with their innards taken out and left for display next to their twisted bodies, laying in pools of blood. Torn limbs, dismembered bodies. Through the photos were also taped pieces of papers, torn from the original publications, with words highlighted and circled with colored markers. Reports of old victims and fresher ones. On a small desk not far from the bed was an open laptop, shut down, and lots of CDs with recordings from surveillance cameras, interviews, interrogations and whatnot. Everything was scattered through the room, along with empty bottles of beer and stronger alcoholic drinks, dirty clothes and other items such as food wraps and a lot of useless garbage.


He was caught again in thoughts about the case he's studied for so long, the case which he dropped almost an year ago when he started drinking, and has been fired from the department due to drinking too much. Every struggle he's been doing was in vain, it all brought the demise of his loved ones, and for that, he blamed himself the most. He started drinking so it would numb the pain, but the more he drank, the heavier the pain came back, until he could no longer hold it. Not only once has he tried suicide, but it all failed, and he had to numb out the pain again with drink. It was almost an year since drinking was his main activity on a daily basis. But it seemed so distant that time when he was eager to continue his investigation, to dig out more dirt and to finally unearth the identity of the "Shadow" and his twisted reasons. But it was all in vain.


His head was hurting, his eardrums were filled with a weird sound, his whole body was aching and so was his soul. And suddenly, through the torment, something awoke him from his state. It sounded ever so distant, but it was not much until he found the source with his mind. The door. Someone pushed the button that unleashed the annoying buzzing that struck right in his brain. And not only once. With a grumble, he placed the photo he's been holding on the bedside cabinet then slid off the bed, falling to the floor as he did so. Standing, aching in all of his bones, he started walking, trying to hurry to the door while stumbling into the mess and empty bottles scattered all around the floor. Finally coming to a halt before the door, and having had already enough of the buzzing, he yelled out.


"Okay, just a second!"


Unlocking the door, he opened it, and stood right in the doorway. Standing at about six feet of height, he looked as if he just crawled out from a trash can. His hair was messy and falling into his bloodshot weary eyes. His "white" shirt was stained with all sorts of mess, and so were his worn out jeans. His face was also covered with a thick, dirty beard, as he hasn't shaved in more than a month. He gazed upon the female before him and rolled his eyes, grunting unwelcoming.


"Ye... what do you want? Are you one of those reporters that keep showing up trying to make me give them first page stories? If so, get out, i gotta go and drink"


He leaned in the doorframe, watching the female.

 

[Bombielonia]

[QUOTE="Eternal Wanderer]The sun. It was all in his eyes, hurting them constantly, but little did he care for it. The light in the room revealed the probably hundreds of photos taped to walls. Photos of crime scenes, and victims. Girls with their innards taken out and left for display next to their twisted bodies, laying in pools of blood. Torn limbs, dismembered bodies. Through the photos were also taped pieces of papers, torn from the original publications, with words highlighted and circled with colored markers. Reports of old victims and fresher ones. On a small desk not far from the bed was an open laptop, shut down, and lots of CDs with recordings from surveillance cameras, interviews, interrogations and whatnot. Everything was scattered through the room, along with empty bottles of beer and stronger alcoholic drinks, dirty clothes and other items such as food wraps and a lot of useless garbage.
He was caught again in thoughts about the case he's studied for so long, the case which he dropped almost an year ago when he started drinking, and has been fired from the department due to drinking too much. Every struggle he's been doing was in vain, it all brought the demise of his loved ones, and for that, he blamed himself the most. He started drinking so it would numb the pain, but the more he drank, the heavier the pain came back, until he could no longer hold it. Not only once has he tried suicide, but it all failed, and he had to numb out the pain again with drink. It was almost an year since drinking was his main activity on a daily basis. But it seemed so distant that time when he was eager to continue his investigation, to dig out more dirt and to finally unearth the identity of the "Shadow" and his twisted reasons. But it was all in vain.


His head was hurting, his eardrums were filled with a weird sound, his whole body was aching and so was his soul. And suddenly, through the torment, something awoke him from his state. It sounded ever so distant, but it was not much until he found the source with his mind. The door. Someone pushed the button that unleashed the annoying buzzing that struck right in his brain. And not only once. With a grumble, he placed the photo he's been holding on the bedside cabinet then slid off the bed, falling to the floor as he did so. Standing, aching in all of his bones, he started walking, trying to hurry to the door while stumbling into the mess and empty bottles scattered all around the floor. Finally coming to a halt before the door, and having had already enough of the buzzing, he yelled out.


"Okay, just a second!"


Unlocking the door, he opened it, and stood right in the doorway. Standing at about six feet of height, he looked as if he just crawled out from a trash can. His hair was messy and falling into his bloodshot weary eyes. His "white" shirt was stained with all sorts of mess, and so were his worn out jeans. His face was also covered with a thick, dirty beard, as he hasn't shaved in more than a month. He gazed upon the female before him and rolled his eyes, grunting unwelcoming.


"Ye... what do you want? Are you one of those reporters that keep showing up trying to make me give them first page stories? If so, get out, i gotta go and drink"


He leaned in the doorframe, watching the female.

[/QUOTE]
The woman waited and waited, hearing bottles within the apartment 'rumble', raising an eyebrow.. She took a step back when she heard the door being unlocked, she was expecting a hard-working detective, a detective whom would be.. well, not so drunk... but hey, he lost his family to that fucker.


As soon as the door was opened she closed her eyes shut and covered her mouth and nose with her left palm, where the key chain dangles in between her fingers, she took her hand away and looked at the man, with a grimace to her expressions. This, this is at all the opposite of what she expected, as soon as she said.. "I think I got the wron-.." Oph, after what he said, it was him.. him indeed. "I.. am no reporter." She said with a frown growing.


People were murdered as this.. 'detective' she eyed him up and down when she thought so.. This detective.. drinking.. he reeked of it.. He reeked of filth, nothing but filth and.. grief.

 

[SilentMadness]

"What's your business with me, then?" He asked again as he looked the female in the eyes, his eyes slightly visible through the strands of hair that fell as a veil over his upper half of the face. He observed her gesture of disgust, and it only made him smirk. He was aware of the awful state he was in, and of the mess in his house, and by the looks of it, the woman before him wouldn't really enjoy it. He only looked upon her while leaning in the doorframe.


With a hand, he searched the pockets of his jeans, and finally finding his lighter and his messy pack of cigarettes, he took out one, and lit it, the smoke quickly spreading about his head as he closed his eyes, savoring the smoke.


"What exactly do you want?"

 

[Bombielonia]

[QUOTE="Eternal Wanderer]"What's your business with me, then?" He asked again as he looked the female in the eyes, his eyes slightly visible through the strands of hair that fell as a veil over his upper half of the face. He observed her gesture of disgust, and it only made him smirk. He was aware of the awful state he was in, and of the mess in his house, and by the looks of it, the woman before him wouldn't really enjoy it. He only looked upon her while leaning in the doorframe.
With a hand, he searched the pockets of his jeans, and finally finding his lighter and his messy pack of cigarettes, he took out one, and lit it, the smoke quickly spreading about his head as he closed his eyes, savoring the smoke.


"What exactly do you want?"

[/QUOTE]
"I.. want to help catch Shadow."


She said, as the cloud of smoke moved towards her face, the woman closed her eyes and grit her teeth in anger.. She was going to burst any minute, any bloody minute if he hadn't stopped with his smoking.. "I.. lost someone to him.. and ever si-.." She interrupted herself with her coughing, a hand waving in-front of her face. "Could you please stop smoking." She demanded more than asking, even though it was rude of her, she couldn't bare the stench, the sight in-front of her.. and the smoke, she hated smoke.. She stared back at him with her irritated eyes before speaking. "I am Evelyn. I lost.. a close.. 'friend' to Shadow, and ever since i've been working so hard to catch up with the latest evidence and what is happening related to the case.. but lately there hasn't been enough evidence or actually, not enough people focusing on this case.. " She said, shifting her weight from one foot to another.


She had the urge to just.. grab the cigarette, toss it on the floor, push this man into the bathroom and open the shower on-top of his head and burn...- Clean his apartment as she had gotten her first impression of his apartment by looking over his shoulder, having to stand tip-toed for that, she looked back at him and brought her hand to her hair and pushed it behind her ear.