Burning Souls (F.T Sequel)

Chapter Five

I'm right behind Hunter, staring at his broad, leather-clad back as we swirl through dark alleys filled with putrid smells of blood and death. He told me to follow him, but it's been twenty minutes since we've been running - yes, running in supernatural speed - and I'm beginning to feel the impatience running. My eyes focus in on a slight tick in Hunter's movement as his body tilts slightly to the left in his course, and immediately he rounds a corner without waiting to check if I hadn't crashed into a wall by its abruptness. But he's trained me to believe in my instincts and reflexes. I turn the corner swiftly as well and end up running by his side, and from the corner of my left eye I can see his lip twitch upwards slightly with approval. We pass broken doors in broken-in stone walls until I spot a faint light shining against the mat blackness of the night. As we approach I make it out to be a rustic gas lamp, swinging lazily from a hook that extends from a beaten-up and graffiti-covered brick wall. Without a word Hunter pushes the heavy metal door open, something that would have been impossible for humans, and disappears inside. I glance quickly at the lamp that dances hauntingly in the air, and with a shiver follow him.

I step into an ink-black room, only faintly illuminated by another gas lamp hanging from the ceiling lowly, casting hauntingly dancing shadows onto the wooden floor below. The planks creak in protest as we walk over them, and I'm surprised that they haven't broken down under us yet. All little furniture that's scattered over the room is covered by dusty linen, giving the place a ghostly atmosphere. Even though I'm immune to the cold, chills cover my body and I rub my arms instinctively. Hunter raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing. Instead he approaches a big bulletin board that's subtly lit up by the same gas lamp, sporting masses and masses of pictures and articles cut out from newspapers, threads linking the whole together. It looks completely cliche and not Hunter's style at all, but as I take a step closer a shaky breath escapes me. The images show blonde-haired young girls lying dead in unconceivable positions, all of their eyes wide open.

"These are the girls who have been killed?" I ask calmly, even though my insides are about to exit my body. Hunter nods and briefly looks at me.

"Yes. All of them have either been killed back home or here, in London."

"I know that anything else is highly unlikely, but how did you suspect that the people attacking these girls are after me, from the beginning?" I insist, watching his reaction. I refuse to waver to show that the whole of this frightening display bothers me, even the tiniest bit. Hunter tilts his head quickly in a motion to indicate for me to come closer, and when I do he points his finger to the first picture, leading my eyes to a detail that I'd overlooked. Then, he traces his finger to all of the other pictures, and, sure enough, the same detail reoccurs. All of the girls have their eyes wide open, but they all have one golden on and one blue one, matching mine. Next to a brief and bright red conclusion that is written in Hunter's perfect swirly handwriting, a pair of contacts have been plastered to the board. Coloured contacts, sporting one golden colour, and the other a blue one.

"This can't be a coincidence." Hunter states, "I searched our hometown for all blonde, young women with heterochromia - two different eye colours - in particular, blue and golden, and obviously there was only one. That person being you." Hunter looks at me then fully, turning his whole body towards me. "These murderers aren't targeting the women out of mistake from supposing they are you; they're killing them to send us a message, or rather a warning."

I take a deep breath, scanning the board over once more, "So these girls have been killed and thereafter the murderers have put a golden contact and a blue one onto their eyes, to match my description perfectly, as a warning. And you're suspecting that this warning says - long story short - that if I don't show myself they'll continue killing innocent women until they find me themselves?"