Misery

3. 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼𝚂

CESSIER'S POV

After a neck-breaking, stupidly long journey, I was finally here in Gatlinburg . I sneezed, shivering under the cold, cloudless sky, clothed in a beige turtleneck blouse and a pair of black trousers. My teeth reflexively began chattering, it was definitely colder than I had expected so I slipped into an oversized sepia coat that reached upto my knees. I rubbed my palms together and hugged myself hoping to cease the cold for the time being.

I could feel the wind caress my hair as I walked along the streets of Cosby, lined with tiny stores selling rather strange but remarkably endearing paraphernalia such as tiny octopus shaped clay toys and rare lanterns embellished with strokes of glitters forming line arts that resembled the moon, the stars and the galaxy. I looked around curiously, fascinated with this town's beauty and enchantment.

This particular region in Cosby was scarcely populated and had a single hotel which was about a two kilometres walk from the crime scene. The distance would've been comparatively shorter if she didn't live so far within the woods in the snowy hills. I reached the hotel at exactly half past four in the evening.

I appreciated how inviting and cozy the interior of the hotel was. The owner was a kind, old lady in her late sixties, judging by the wrinkles accentuating her cheekbones and forehead. We chatted for a while, I asked her about the crime rate in this area and if there had ever been other such cases . She shook her head quickly, the constant gentle smile on her face replaced by a hint of terror.

From the information I was able to gather from her, no, there hadn't been any such cases like Jewel Harper's in this region in the last year. The crime rate was considerably low when compared to other parts of Cosby. Not many people lived here ; there were barely a dozen houses in sight.

After half an hour of interrogating the old lady, I set out for Jewel's house on foot, the rest of the journey being menacingly quiet. Dim streetlights painted in black and with a somewhat Gothic appearance streaked along the path, illuminated the area faintly as if candlelight.

The sky was painted in hues of orange and yellow, staring down gracefully at the world while the sun still shone so brightly that I had to squint my eyes all along the way. The intensity of heat however was barely present. It was about 5:20 pm, which meant I had more than an hour before sunset.

I already informed the Cosby Police force about my arrival, they made arrangements for my stay and for the investigation to work smoothly, enlightened me with additional information and speculations on the case. For some reason, they treated me as if I were a celebrity, some of the rookie inspectors asking for pictures and signatures in the Director's absence and all of them hurdling to get a glimpse of my presence.

It felt extremely weird but I went along with it anyhow,assuming they were just excited. I did want to know what they truly thought of me as and the reason behind all this commotion but disposed the idea for I was running out of time. The Director explained all the details of the case elaborately, wished me good luck before we bid farewell.

He asked whether I needed any inspectors to come along, I adamantly refused while thanking him for all the support and help he had already offered. Although, the decision of walking all alone to a crime scene in an entirely unfamiliar town seemed foolish and as though I wanted to act heroic. However, I just sort of needed to take a look at it by myself and observe if anything peculiar occurred in the presence of a single person.

I knew way better than anyone what I was capable of. A narrow path paved with brown bricks went through the cluster of huge, dark trees, as old as dust. At the end of this path, was her house. According to the locals this was built in the early 1890s' during the era of a prestigious and wealthy family who owned this entire area.