Chapter 8 - Molly's gift

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"Woah! This place could really use some sparkles...." Casey mumbled.

"Don't put sparkles on the homeless Casey." I said with a sigh.

"But what about stickies!" She whined.

"How would you feel if a stranger smacked a sticker on your face?" I asked.

"Depends! Is it a sparkly sticker?"

"You're such a problem..." I huffed.

The feeling of desperation and regret seemed to be baked into the walls. Each street, each house, everywhere I went was oozing with it. I rested my hand against the knife in my pocket. What the hell have I gotten myself into...

"This place could really use some pink..." Casey mumbled and came to a stop.

I stopped next to her and looked up at the apartment complex. And for once, I agreed with her. The walls were obviously white at one point, but we're now stained black and covered in graffiti.

"Are you sure this is the place?" I asked.

"Mmhmm! This is Dianna stones home!" Casey chirped.

"Remind me again how you found this place?" I asked.

"Facebook! Well, technically I googled the year Molly died. Then looked up the records of students during that time. Then I found her Facebook and stalked her a bit." Casey giggled. "There was some kind of detective training I read about a while back. Stalking someone's facebook and seeing just how much information you can gather."

"Another reason I'm glad I don't use social media.."

"According to my notes, she should be in three zero three." She replied.

I sighed.

"Alright, let's do this."

I took the lead and ascended up the metal staircase. The steps shrilled underneath my feet and rust rained down from each step. I glanced back at Casey and watched her nonchalantly placing sparkly stickers on the railings and steps. Because, of course she would.

We eventually made it up to the door and I took a heavy breath. This is it, the home of a killer. Her door only furthered the mood, with it's dents and scratches. Like a monster had hacked away at it. Casey pushed me aside and placed a sticker of a winking cat over a dent. I looked over at her and she gave me a big smile.

"Makes it less tense right?" She hummed.

I couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, you're right." I said and looked back toward the sticker.

I took a deep breath and relaxed myself. Then I focused on the building. Someone was inside, and their emotions were loud. It was as if they were drowning in an abyss. Everything inside of them was spiraling down into something. But what did it mean? I reached up and knocked on the door. Guess I'll figure it out.

Casey hopped over to me and hummed happily. Soon we heard a rustling from inside, and I could tell the presence was getting closer. Soon the click of the lock echoed and the door creaked open. The abyss became covered up, like it was in a glass. It was still visible, but contained. Fear wrapped itself around her throat, and I was surprised she could even breathe. It was so potent.

She poked her head out from the door, and her amber eyes scanned over us carefully. The fear that constricted her loosened up. A genuine bewilderment arose from inside. Then she opened up her door more.

"Can I, help you?" She asked.

A wave of embarrassment washed over her as she quickly tried to adjust her tiny black dress. I scanned over her a bit, and found puncture wounds on her arm. Soon my eyes met hers, and I felt the fear start to return.

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