When people lose their home, it is normal that they will go through significant emotional distress. Even more so if they personally saw how it exploded – got blown up into tiny smithereens.
"Nooooooo!" Linda cried. "All my things are in there!" Then strength left her knees. She plopped to the ground, watching helplessly as the fire and series of explosions annihilated the apartment building. A cloud of dust arose causing the sun's light to become dim and blurry.
The tremors from the explosion was felt in the nearby establishments, startling a large number of people.
Linda Smedry.
A twenty-four-year old college dropout, living on her own in the exact apartment that suddenly exploded just seconds ago. It just kind of happened. No warnings. No signs whatsoever.
One moment, she was searching for a job online on her crappy laptop that wouldn't turn on if it wasn't hooked up to a charger.
Next second, the fire alarm reverberated through the whole apartment building. Everyone was panicking, including her as she grabbed her wallet, packbag, and her phone before rushing outside like everyone else.
Then the next second, everyone was pointing fingers at the guy who moved next to her room not more than a week ago.
Then the landlady came, shouting at him for allegedly pulling the fire alarm for a bombing prank. But at that moment, she wholeheartedly wished it was really just a prank.
Her hands turned into fists, so hard she could hardly feel the sharp points of her fingernails digging into her palms.
Her ears rang from the force and the noise of the explosion.
Then a few minutes later, the loud, piercing and continuous noise that sounded like 'waaaaaaaahhhhhhh' echoed throughout the place. As if announcing to the whole world that the fire truck was finally there to save the day.
But it was too late. There was nothing to save anymore but the firefighters pulled out their water hoses anyway and started putting down the fire.
It sizzled before it started releasing acrid, near-to-black smoke making the surrounding people cough on end.
And after what felt like an eternity, when the fire had finally died off and the smoke started to diminish, everyone in the scene saw a silhouette.
A silhouette of a man around six feet tall wearing a trench coat and a bowler's hat standing amidst the smoke – no one can see his face.
Then the man took off his hat, brought it to his chest, and bowed in a theatrical manner. Like a magician bowing after performing such a splendid, breath-taking trick and now he was expecting applause from his audience.
But nothing of the sort came. Rather, it was silence. Everybody was stunned, including the firefighters.
However, it only lasted for a few seconds because Jowell, one of the firefighters, snapped out of his stupor and yelled at him. "You! Who are you? Did you do this?"
There was no reply. "Hey! Answer me!" Jowell asked again but still no reply.
However…
What happened next dumbfounded them all. The man literally crumpled like a piece of paper before he drifted slowly to the air. Left and right he goes then lands softly on the ground.
Bud, one of the firefighters rushed to the man's direction. And…
"Huh? E—Everyone! C'mere for sec." He called out—his voice a tad shaky.
His companions gathered, then they simultaneously gasped, confusion lacing their faces.
Because of this, the crowd started to surround them as well—wanting to know what the fuss was all about.
And on the ground where the man just fell were his clothes. The man wasn't there, however. Just his clothes. As if he teleported elsewhere, naked.
"What the heck?" Jowell muttered while he examined it. There were no burn marks and it looked brand new. "Just what kind of trick is this?"
Watching this, Derrick tightened his hold on the suitcase containing the typewriter. Everything it told him just a while ago became true. From the explosion to the arrival of the peculiar man who suddenly disappeared right in front of their eyes.
He wanted to take the typewriter out so much and ask where the man went but there were too many people. Also, if he leaves now, he will only look suspicious. After all, it was him who told them about the bomb.
But he wasn't worried. He already prepared an alibi in advance because the typewriter told him he would be taken to the station for some questioning but wouldn't be imprisoned if he followed its instruction. And Derrick was betting everything on it.
"My—My apartment. Is it really gone, sir? Please do something about it!" The landlady cried. Her face was covered in tears and snot.
"Lady, there is nothing we can do. Just contact your insurance." Bud told her off.
The police came not long after.
"So you're telling me that this was the only thing's left?" Deputy Lou asked the four firefighters while pointing to the clothes on the ground—unbelieving.
"Yes, sir." They simultaneously answered.
"Deputy Lou! Look at what we found!" Brooks called out. He was standing by the pile of charred rubbles. One thing that really stood out though was the corpse by his feet. The police officers immediately tried to clear the vicinity but even that proved to be quite a challenging task.
"Everyone, please! When we tell you to go away, GO AWAY!" Jeff was yelling to the crowd. He was one of the three cops who arrived at the scene.
There were so many onlookers and it seemed moot to even try. Nobody budged an inch.
Though it was understandable that people would want to see tragic events like murder scenes and stuff, maybe out of curiosity or something, because after all, it isn't just something a normal person would see on a normal basis.
Even Derrick, who wasn't the type to gawk at things like this couldn't help but join the crowd to peer at the corpse, especially to the cardboard that was on top of it.
There was something written on it using a blue marker. It said, "My name is Cole Grant, 32 years old. Today, I detonated the bombs I planted in the vicinity three days ago. I did this to erase the evidence of the crimes that I did. I assaulted and murdered two teenage girls and I don't know how to dispose of their bodies. I deserved this."
Brooks who was reading the note creased his brows. He failed to understand why a person who took all the trouble planting explosives just to hide the evidence did this. It just doesn't make sense.
"Deputy Lou! This guy over here said he has something to say," Jeff told the balding man while Derrick timidly followed behind him.
"What is it, lad?" He asked Derrick.
"Sir, I found this in my room. You might wanna read it." He said while giving the deputy the typing paper.
Deputy Lou accepted it and his eyes widened when he read what was printed on it. Why wouldn't he? Especially since it has something to do with the serial killings going on in their town.
"Lad, we need to talk." He told Derrick.