Creed of the Leviathan I

61 | E + M

Emmanuelle

Gunshots. Five in total. Three were spread over his chest, two passed him and went straight into the wall. The killer was not caught on the camera's. Somehow the killer was stupid enough to leave the murder weapon behind, so that is what the police was focusing on. It did not make sense. Nothing did; not Marco's murder, not why it happened. There was no sign of forced entry. Marco let the person in. He let the person in, because he thought it was me.

I should not have ended the call. I should not have ended the call. I should not have—

"Nuelle?"

"I shouldn't have ended the call." I blurted out my thoughts.

"Hey, this is not your fault. Do you hear me?" Anthony sat down next to me on the bed. The same bed I used to share with Marco. "This is not your fault."

After I passed out on the scene I was brought home to my room; Marco's room. I must have been out for a while, for the sun was rising when I woke up screaming with my eyes still closed. I did not see anything but I heard footsteps approaching me. I felt someone hold me down to stay still as Anthony and Dimitri talked at the same time. Both, trying to calm me down.

One and a half day had passed since then. I still had not showered and my last meal was the burger and fries I had with Anthony. I had no appetite. My body refused to move and my mind did not bother to tell it to move. My eyes were weary, red and puffy. I could not get my shut eye. Anytime I tried I would get nightmares about seeing him covered by a white cloth with blood around him. I had run out of tears to cry and crying started to physically hurt. But, there was no way of stopping it.

I could not understand what I was feeling. Was it guilt? Guilt that I was still mad at him. Sadness? That he was gone and Anger? I was angry at the world, the universe and whatever else could be out there. I did not know how the others apart from Anthony were coping with all of this. I was too weak myself to try and be there for them. The real pain, however started on day four when I was told by Anthony that Marco would be laid to rest on the following day. He was gone, I knew that but having to see him be lowered into the ground and covered by dirt— that would truly be the end and I was not ready for the end.

Dimitri wanted to get him buried as soon as possible, because the media was eating this story all up. Another death in Seattle's well known family; first, it was the father's suicide and now the murder of the second child. 'Why was Marco Mulaney murdered? Who would want him dead? What does his family think of it?' Every channel had the same headline, just worded differently. It was painful enough to deal with everything that happened, having the whole city perhaps the rest of the country prying into this part of our lives was something that we could do without. Sadly, they did not care about our feelings and they surely did not care about Marco's death either. This was just another juicy story that somehow fit into the entertaining world of television.

"How can we bury him when the police haven't found the killer yet?" Was the first thing I asked when told about the funeral.

"They did."

I was confused, how was it that no one found it necessary to tell me about this until one day before the funeral. "Who was it? When did they,  when—" I could not finish my sentence.

"They identified the fingerprints." He paused for a quick second. "They found out that it belongs to James. James is the killer." Anthony seemed to be as surprised as I was.

"What? No, that can't be. James has absolutely no reason to even hurt Marco. It doesn't make sense. They are closing this case too early. This, this doesn't make sense." I started rambling.