The Ax by: Stacey Bell *Completed*

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 12 (v.1)

Submitted: July 25, 2012

Reads: 46

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 25, 2012




Chapter 11

As I arrive at the address that was on the background information of my dad’s killer; I see that the house looks completely abandoned. The house is brown on the outside, with brick walls, the grass has grown to almost the windows, some of the windows have holes in them from being abandoned, and no one taking care of them. There is one big old tree in the front yard. The house is in the middle of nowhere, with no one for miles. I get out of the taxi, and pay the driver, before he squeals off towards the city. I guess he doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do.

As I look in the windows, the inside looked like the outside, completely abandoned, minus the grass. There is a mailbox at the end of the gravel driveway that has the Stevens written on the sides, in white paint. The mailbox looks were down like the house. After looking in the windows, I walk up on the old ruined down porch, and knock on the brown painted door, just to make sure that no one lives there, before walking in.

So I knock, and wait for ten minutes, before trying the door. When I turn the doorknob, the door opens, and I slowly walk in. ‘Mrs. Stevens!’ I yell as I walk in, leaving the door open. ‘Mrs. Stevens, this is Sam Huntington, I’m a police officer, and I just wanted to ask you a few questions!’ I yell before walking in to living room, and looking around. As I look around the living room, I see that there is a mantel on one side of the room with pictures on top of it, a dusty coffee table in the middle of the room, followed by a dusty old red couch, which was once new. I also notice, that there is no television set in the living room. The living room is small enough to fit a decent sized group of people, and the house looks like it can only fit maybe two people. I can see the kitchen from the living room, but I don’t notice anyone in there.

I turn my attention back towards the old dust mantel with the pictures on top, and walk over to take a look. I see a picture of my dad’s killer and pick it up to look at it, when Mrs. Stevens walks up behind me, scaring me, and I drop the picture, smashing the glass as it lands on the floor, and I turn around. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I say trying to be polite, and picking the picture from the floor. Mrs. Stevens had must have been in the bedroom, since I didn’t see her in the kitchen.

‘I never get any visitor’s anymore!’ says Mrs. Stevens as she grabs the picture from me, and puts the broken picture back on the mantel, dusting it off with her dirty dust rag. After speaking, Mrs. Stevens, walks over to her old rigidly rocking chair, and slowly sits down, as she begins to slowly rock, making the chair creak. When I look at Mrs. Stevens; I see that she is a very old lady, who is about in her late seventies, has old raggedy grey hair, that hasn’t looked like it hasn’t been washed in a while.  Her grey, greasy hair is up in a ponytail, and it looks like she has false teeth. She is wearing an old sunflower dress, that looks like it hasn’t been washed in decades, and she is wearing old worn down pink slippers. I also notice that her hair is greasy, and her nails are dirty. She also has dirty finger nails.

‘What do you mean by anymore?’ I ask as I sit down on the dirty looking couch.

‘Ever since my husband has gone to jail for shooting that police officer, everyone quit coming over,’ explains the old woman.

My dad had worked for the police station in New York City, while we lived on the outskirts.

‘Yes, can I ask you a few questions about you and your family?’ I ask as I open up my notebook, and get my pen ready for writing. The old woman stares at me blankly, before answering.

‘Sure,’ replies the old woman.

‘Ok, besides you and your husband, do you have any other family members?’ I ask as I write down the question and wait for her reply. I wanted to get straight to the point, because I didn’t want to be in this house any longer than I want to be. The house had a creepy feeling to it, and it hasn’t been cleaned in years.

‘Yes, I have two daughters, that live in the city,’ replies the old woman as she rocks, holding her dirty dust rag.

‘Two daughters that live in the city…..what are their names?’ I ask curiously. As I ask the question; the atmosphere in the room changes from weird to hostile. The old woman has an angry look on her face, before speaking.

‘Who’d you say you where?’ asked the old woman suspiciously.

‘Oh, I’m Sam Huntington….my father was Kevin Huntington, the police officer that your husband had killed,’ I explain to her.

‘So, you know that you have caught your father’s killer, and he has died in prison, but yet you still want to hound me and my family about it?!’ says the old woman angrily as she stops rocking the rocking chair.

‘Ma’am, I’m sorry if this sounds like I’m hounding you, but my wife had been killed thirteen years ago, come Friday, and now the killer is back, I think all of this is linked together…I just need to ask you some more questions, then I will be out of your life,’ I try to explain to the old woman.

‘I am not giving you anything else! I want you out! I think my family has suffered enough!’ yells the old woman as she gets up from the chair. As she is standing there looking down at me, I decide to close the notepad, and stand up, and not push the issue. ‘I can’t believe that you people would have the nerve to come back here after all these years! Please, just leave me and the rest of my family alone! I don’t even leave the house, because everyone knows what happened!’ yells the old woman as she begins to walk towards me as I walk backwards.

When I begin to walk backwards towards the door, I notice a family picture hanging on the wall beside the mantel. Before the old woman manages to push me through the door, I get a chance to look at the picture, and don’t believe what I see. Before I knew it, the old woman is slamming the door in my face, as I stand there not believing who I have seen on the family picture.


Captain’s point of view:

As I sit there pondering why Jeremy’s last name sounds familiar, I decide to go through all of the police officer’s names that are on rochster. There are over three pages of names, so I knew that this is going to take a while. After about an hour or so going through the police names, I finally reach the last page of the names. I am losing hope, as I almost reach the end of the list, where I see the last name Stevens, and why it sounds familiar. The last two names have the last names of Stevens, but I couldn’t believe who they are. The possible killers could be police officers….why didn’t I see this before?

Just as I went to grab my phone to call Sam to tell him who I thought the possible murderers are, someone bursts through my door. ‘Captain…we have an emergency,’ the person says urgently, as they walk in closing the door behind them. I look up and notice that it could be one of the possible murderers.

‘You? Your last name is Stevens, and I never put two and two together, because I never had till until now, and now I see what you really are,’ I explain to the person.

‘And what am I?’ asks the person with a confused look on their face.

‘You are one of the possible murderers,’ I say. There is quiet for a few moments, before the killer spoke.

‘So, you have figured out who I am! Now you must die,’ says the killer as they draw their gun from their side and points it at me. 

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