Chapter 3: Heat

    Picking up the trail again wasn't hard, and Alex wasn't about to let something like a sudden appearance and just as sudden disappearance of a dying man in his motel room keep him off a hunt once he'd started one. He didn't know what he believed had happened, but whether it was a hallucination or not had no bearing on the matter at hand; Tyler Wilkes needed killing. 

    The thirty-something, mild-mannered accountant had killed one brother and one girlfriend so far, and things weren't looking good for his current girlfriend. His brother had been painted as a tragic hunting accident when they were teens. A decade later, he'd told everyone his girlfriend had taken an unfortunate tumble off the side of a mountain on a hike. Little did his current girlfriend know that the camping trip they had planned for the next weekend meant her days were numbered as far as Tyler was concerned. 

    Alex knew a third victim would start arousing scrutiny. His family would start to wonder if they'd all been accidents, and if the current girlfriend's family knew about the first two, there was a chance they'd even voice their suspicions. Tyler was smart enough to know it too, but didn't have the willpower to stop himself. 

    He didn't need to, though. Alex would do that for him. 

    There were no security cameras at Tyler's apartment complex, and getting inside the building had been a simple matter of following another tenant through the main door once they'd opened it. He wove around them and headed for apartment 203, where he knew the man was sound asleep without a care in the world. He had a routine. Hit the gym after work, grab dinner on the way home, watch a little TV, and it was lights out by ten. 

    After picking the lock, Alex stepped inside and looked around the place as he secured the door behind him. 

    The sight of camping gear laid out in the living room had him clenching his jaw, and he stalked through the place on silent feet. There was a picture of the happy couple perched on the side table near the couch, no doubt framed and gifted by the intended victim. Part of him wished he could tell the girl who her boyfriend really was. It would save her a lot of pain and confusion later. He knew he couldn't, and she'd just be another loved-one left in the aftermath of a death that would never be explained. 

    She wouldn't be blamed for his murder, though. He could at least give her that much. He'd waited for a night when she was out with others at a public place, where her alibi would be irrefutable. 

    He pushed the door of the bedroom open all the way, finding Tyler asleep on his back. He didn't like when it was this easy, but waking him up to let him fight for his life would just cause a lot of noise. It wasn't that he liked seeing the fear in their eyes take over as they realized they weren't going to be able to escape him. He didn't enjoy seeing their pain and watching the life seep out of them. A struggle just made him feel better about it, sometimes. Not exactly like he'd earned something, but more like the better monster had come out on top. 

    It helped him feel like a monster that killed other monsters, rather than just a killer. 

    He moved up to the side of the bed, and pressed a gloved hand over Tyler's open mouth while the other plunged his knife deep into his chest, right through the heart, cutting off that last snore as it morphed into a muffled scream. Wide eyes locked onto him, panic and confusion and pain all mixed within them. 

    He leaned in close, pressing his hand more firmly over his mouth as he struggled. "Andrew Wilkes, and Tiffany Belle," he said in Tyler's ear as he tried and failed to push him away. 

    Understanding bloomed up in his eyes, right before Alex gave the blade a sharp twist. The eyes winced shut as his body jerked, his hands gripping Alex's shoulders like he was trying to hold on to his life...and then they went limp as he died.

    He wiped the blood from his knife and made sure there were no traces left before stowing it away and leaving the room. He closed the door after him, making sure it locked, and slid his gloved hands into is jacket pockets as he made his way out into the night. Once he was a few blocks from the building he pulled his gloves off and tucked them into his pocket, and kept his stride relaxed as he made the long walk back to the motel. 

    Another monster gone, only a million more to go.  

    He felt it before he heard or saw anything. He'd cut through an alley to change up his route back to the motel when he saw it was vacant, and about halfway through, that newly familiar feeling of being stalked rushed up his spine. 

    Hand on his gun, he slowed his stride fractionally and spun on his heel. He had the pistol cocked and aimed on his target in one fluid motion, and he found himself staring back at a man he'd never seen before. The life he'd chosen didn't allow for the luxury of forgetting faces. This man was new, and he didn't like the way he seemed to be trying not to smile at him through an otherwise placid expression. 

    "Alexander," he greeted, voice as smooth as his face. "Always out here, doing the devil's work. Are you planning on taking another life tonight?" He did smile at him that time, like he couldn't hold it back. 

    "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, voice low as he held the gun steady at the man's center mass. 

    The smile was more akin to a smirk. "That gun won't kill me, you know." 

    "I don't want to kill you," said Alex, glowering at the strange man and matching him step-for-step as he slowly circled him. "Not if I don't have to."

    He laughed a little. "Alexander, you didn't have to kill anyone. That was a choice you made. No one and nothing forced your hand when you ended all those lives. Just your own misguided will." 

    "They were all well deserved, trust me," he countered. 

    This man, whoever he was and whatever he wanted, wasn't a cop. He didn't know what he was, but he was sure of that much. His first thought would've been a contract killer, sent by the loved-one of one of his victims...if it weren't for the other night. He didn't know how they were connected, but they were. He could feel it in his bones, and that same gut instinct told him he was about to fight for his life. 

    "You don't get to make that call," the man told him, face stern and the smirk nowhere to be seen. Was he lecturing him? "You've taken that liberty for much too long."

    He laughed, gun still raised. "Who does make that call? Why should they get to walk free?" 

    "They'll be judged when their time is up," the man told him, just shy of glaring. Something about being laughed at seemed to have touched a nerve. "And you don't get to decide when that time comes."

    Alex was thrown off his feet and the gun flew from his hand as he was airborne. His back hit the cement building behind him and he struggled against something he couldn't even see. Nothing was touching him, nothing was near him, but he was trapped in place, his feet not even touching the ground. It was just like what had happened in the motel room with the other strange man. 

    This one stepped closer, less than a foot away as he gazed up at him with contempt written all over his face. Alex struggled harder when he pulled a long, curved blade from his jacket and pressed the point of it over his pounding heart.

    "I've got to tell you, Alexander, I'm glad it's going to be me this time," he said. 

     Heat flashed through his whole body, and the man holding him against the wall winced at the same time he'd felt it. The blade was dropped as he bent backward and away from him, though not at all voluntarily. Something about the motions of his body told Alex another invisible force was at play here, this time overpowering his attacker. 

    Alex's feet hit the pavement as he was freed from whatever had been pinning him to the side of the building, and before the man was freed as well, he grabbed up the blade. Unblinking, he slashed the blade out in a sharp arc, slicing across the man's chest. It wouldn't be deep, but it would be enough to buy him some time to figure out his next move. He didn't know what this man was, but he still wasn't sure if he deserved to die. 

    He realized too late the choice wouldn't have to be made. 

    A flash of blinding light blazed out from the slice he'd left in the nameless man's body, making Alex stumble back a step and shield his eyes. In the next moment, blood poured out of the wound in a flooding torrent; way more than should've been possible for a cut that shallow. The wound ripped wider as the man tossed his head back and cried out in agony, eyes glowing white. 

    Behind all the blood was nothing but a deep black void. It looked just like the ragged gash he'd seen in the other dying man. Where there should have been flesh and bone, there was a seemingly endless blackness. 

    The man put a hand over the widening slash as he fell to his knees before Alex. He looked to the right, and his whole demeanor changed as he lifted his other blood-stained hand to point an accusing finger down the alley. His eyes were still glowing, white as ghosts and full of undiluted hate. 

    "You will lose," he ground out. 

    Alex followed his gaze to see a figure approaching from out of the darkness of the alley. Another flash of heat washed right through him as they stepped closer, each footfall one of relaxed confidence. Dressed all in black, hair darker than a moonless midnight sky, she strode up to the pair, head tilted back a little as she beheld them through dark, hooded eyes. Her dark lips curled up in an easy smirk. 

    Lucy. 

    Disbelief overtook him as that dying man's words echoed in his head. When the devil comes, it'll appear all in black, and you'll feel the heat of its eyes before you even know it's found you.

Reviews

[wtp]

I gather that the man in the alley and the man in the room were both the same thing, although I haven't quite sorted what that might be. They seem to have very different attitudes towards Alex - perhaps different approaches to a very broad set of directions.

I was a little surprised that Alex was able to "kill" the second man so easily with the blade after saying he couldn't be killed by a gun. Of course, disappearing in a puff of smoke makes me wonder if either is actually dead.

Lucy's reappearance certainly seems to satisfy the description offered by the man in the hotel room, including the eyes. Did she create the invisible force that saved Alex? I'll continue to the next chapter in search of a few answers.

[MoonlitWillow]

Again, thank you for reading! I appreciate your feedback very much.

There will be a lot of "unpacking" so to speak when it comes to finding all the answers. There's a lot the reader won't know, because Alex doesn't know, so things will be revealed as he discovers them. There's a lot about Alex that he doesn't know himself yet, but I'm going to have fun helping him find those things out.

[SweetNutmeg]

Interesting developments. Lucy's back, will she tell Alex the truth? And what exactly is the truth? I will have to read on to find out! I am eagerly looking forward to your next chapter.

I had two spots of confusion:

"The blade was dropped as he bent backward and away from him, though not at all voluntarily."

I'm not sure who is doing what in this sentence.

And:

"He looked to the right, and his whole demeanor changed as he lifted his other blood-stained hand to point an accusing finger down the alley. His eyes were still glowing, white as ghosts and full of undiluted hate.
"You will lose," he ground out. "

I'm not sure who he is cursing, Lucy or Alex.

[MoonlitWillow]

Thank you for reading! I always appreciate your feedback. I'll check back in on this chapter and play around with things to see about clearing up those potentially confusing parts.