Condemmed Chapter 1 and 2

CHAPTER 1 ONE COLD SUMMERS DAY
The night was dark and the air was cold and crisp but the stars lit up the night sky like the lights on a Christmas tree would light up a dimmed living room on the eve of Christ. The moon beams reflected off the trees as they danced in the wind leaving an eerie shadow upon the surrounding residences. He watched her with fire in his eyes as the wind left tears trailing down his rather large but charming face and the cold stung at his cheeks reminding him of the frigid winter mornings he spent wandering the streets alone as a child.
However, as he gazed upon her with such ferocity, he kept his distance as he knew he had to remain unseen fore if she’d seen him for even a moment, she would flee in fear maybe never to be seen again. She was the living embodiment of Aphrodite the goddess of beauty. Her long thick raven colored hair swayed in the wind and her deep aqua colored, catlike eyes sparkled like the night sky on a warm summer’s night. He saw beauty and fire in her eyes, reminding him of the mother he had once both loved and hated tremendously, bringing back repressed feelings of fear and anger. He was twice her elder; still, to him she was everything he ever wanted.
He remembered feeling like this once before a long while back. Perhaps so far back in time that this extravagant creature he now examined from across the street had not yet been conceived.
Her name was Abilgail Hammond and he was only eighteen years old at the time. She was barely thirteen and attended the same school he once had. He remembered the day like it was yesterday.
It was an unusually cold summer’s day and the temperature was hardly in the teens. The air smelt of smoke from those who were brave enough to take out the grill and prepare hotdogs or grilled sausages for dinner. He could remember the way she smelt that day, like flowers. He remembered she had worn her jet black hair up in a messy ponytail leaving some strands to roll down her neck allowing her and all her beauty to be fully appreciated for what it was. Her eyes were as blue as the sea and were engulfed by curiosity and wonder. He remembered that the night before he had planned to ask her to walk home with him.
That morning while preparing his breakfast he had fantasized about the way he was going to play it. He would play it cool but sweet, making sure to let her know he would like to walk her home after school but he had others waiting if she refused. Of course this was a complete lie but no one but he would have to know that.
He packed his bag with his books and other school essentials, along with some tape and a picture of his mother in his attempt to fit into the high school crowd. Just as he had planned he offered to walk her home that afternoon and to his surprise she accepted.
As they passed dwellings stacked tier upon tier he examined her. Though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, discretely he watched her every move.
As they reached the industrial part of town an abandoned factory came into sight. His heart began to pound and his mind began to race. Now was his chance to engrave an everlasting impression in her mind and heart. He leaned in and attempted a kiss. To his astonishment she became enraged and struck him with all her force. His eyes began to tear up and he entangled her in his arms. She screamed and kicked and punched him but he refused to let her go. He let his arms enclose tighter around her and dragged her into the abandoned factory. She screamed at him to let her go. She pleaded with him but instead he pushed her to the floor.
“Please Ethan, please, let me go!” She pleaded with him. Her eyes grew even wider with fear. He saw the tears begin to appear at the corner of her eyes and suddenly all of her horror engulfed him.
He recognized the fear in those eyes. He remembered them. He had seen them before. He couldn’t bare to look into them much longer and in all his misery he realized why they seemed so terrifyingly familiar. He had once seen them in himself. He remembered having the same look in his eyes every night while lying in his bed just waiting to hear the footsteps of his father walking towards his bedroom and the sound of his door opening as his intoxicated mother slept soundly in the room beside him.
He couldn’t believe nor accept what he had just done and what he was about to do. Quickly he got up and left her to examine what just happened.
A few weeks following the incident the cops showed up at his door. They informed his father that they were there in connection to the rape and murder of Abilgail Hammond. Suddenly a wave of horror struck him and he couldn’t breathe. His heart sunk into his stomach as he heard the news. His knees gave way as he fell to the ground beneath him. Suddenly he realized this was the end of his life as a free man.
As he stood there in the cold glaring at the beautiful piece of art across from him he couldn’t help but feel cheated. All those years he had spent in prison. The countless number of trials, and therapy sessions he had attended after that day. It had all been for nothing as he had been and always was an innocent man despite the various accusations made by the lawyers and friends and family members of Abilgail who testified against him.
They made him out to be a monster when in fact he could have been considered the most moral man in the world as any other person would have gave into their desires and did the unthinkable to Abigail.
He thought about it many a time, sure he did. Of course, he was no angel in that aspect but despite the way he felt about her and others alike, he was always able to control the urges, burying them deep down inside and forbidding himself to act upon them. Why should he be punished for that while every other human remained free? If a man could be punished for every thought and feeling that came upon him the world would be full of convicts and criminals. It was not the thoughts of a man that made him a criminal but whether he’d act upon those thoughts. He could be accused for many things but that was not one of them.
What got to him even more was the thought that the real culprit roamed free while he bared the burden of being a caged monster for life. Whether he was physically locked up in a jail cell or walking the streets searching for his place in life he would bare the chains of his past leaving him just as society intended him to be, unable to prosper and forever looking up through a glass ceiling.
As he was lost in his thoughts he became riddled with sorrow. He gazed at the girl hoping for just a hint of compassion but of course he got nothing. After all, she could not see him in the dark so far away and how was he to expect any different when his initial goal was to stay hidden from both her and the world.
He was good at hiding. In fact one could call him a bit of an expert as he spent his childhood hiding the best he could from the physical and mental tortures of his drunken mother and the unthinkable abuse from his dysfunctional uncompassionate devil of a father. There was no word that could describe abuse like that while at the same time do it justice.
His father was the real monster. He wore the mask of an angel when in reality he was the son of satin himself. How could a man so ruthless and condescending roam the streets a free man while he himself would be condemned to humiliation and rejection the rest of his known existence. Even in death society would utter his name in cohorts with evil.
In consequence of all his child hood undoing’s he had come so accustomed to disconnecting himself from reality and hiding in any corner or dark alley that came along that he could now sink into the darkness so effectively that not even God himself could detect his presence.
Suddenly he felt so lonely and betrayed by the world for all his downfalls and the unending obstacles put in front of him that he felt the overwhelming need for human intimacy and contact. He glared at the beauty across from him with great passion and envy. He needed her desperately. At this moment he needed her to accept him more than ever. He needed her to look at him with the love (as he could not define it any other way) he felt for her. He had never felt as strong a need for acceptance and just to be noticed as he did at this point of his life. His father used him for his own sick gains and his mother never gave him the time of day unless it was to strike him or scold him or to torture him emotionally.
One time he had come home an hour late from school and had forgotten to clean his room so his mother forced him to slaughter, clean, cook and eat his pet chicken, who was perhaps the only real friend he had, in front of her to ensure that he ate every last drop. The other people in his life were not much better. His friends in school only befriended him because he was poplar. The men he met in prison merely put up with him or pretended to be his companion because he was so large and intimidating. They wanted him for security, not for company.
He took all he could take until he could take no more. With all his effort he got himself together and mustered up every last bit of courage he had left in him, put one foot ahead and pushed himself forward just enough to encourage his body to make its way towards her. As he finally gathered up just enough courage to prod himself in her direction, he was stopped dead in his tracks by something so terrifying he couldn’t comprehend nor accept that what he was seeing was real.
A large silhouette suddenly appeared from the darkness. It arose from the shadows like a black panther hunting its prey. It was large and bearlike. A black mask covered its face and its clothes were in a state of disarray. The shirt was much too large for its body and its clothes were in tethers. Its hands were as large as a small woman’s head and though hidden by gloves you can see the true animal like traits he possessed.
The mysterious silhouette raised it’s enormous hands into the night uncovering a sharp object in which it grasped in the left palm. The exact description of the object in which the creature held could not be seen as it was virtually undetectable in the depths of the darkness.
The silhouette grabbed on to the girl causing her to jolt around. As she did so her face became petrified and her jaw hit the floor in fear. She let out a muffled scream as the monster covered her mouth with its unusually large hands. It then put the knife to her jugular vein pressing just enough to frighten her but not hard enough to pierce her delicate skin.
Ethan stared in horror. He was so close he could literally hear everything that was being said. He could even smell the slight sent of must on the bearlike figure in front of him. He couldn’t move. His feet stuck to the ground as if the bottom of his shoes had been coated with a layer of glue.
“Be quiet and do what I say.” the mystery man instructed in a husky hulk like voice to the girl.
The girl merely let out a whimper and did as he told her.
Ethan stared at the figure as it disappeared into an alley with the girl attached to his side. The man moved along the pavement with caution, holding his weapon to her throat as he did so, assuring she wouldn’t attempt to do anything that both he and the girl might regret.
He thought about following them, but he couldn’t force his body in their direction. He knew in his subconscious that if he did try to help and anything happened to her he would be instantly pointed out as a suspect and nothing he could say or do would prove otherwise. He was a convicted sexual offender. No one would dare to believe he tried to save a beautiful young woman from being sexually assaulted. In fact, they would say it was he who assaulted her in the first place and that he was only trying to cover up the deed. Still, even if they did believe him they would blame him somehow. He could hear their voices now.
“You only did it so you could have your part with her” or “you’re no hero, you’re a monster”. They would say
He knew all about it. He had heard it a million times before. Society could not accept the villain being the hero. If they did so they would have to accept all deviants as possessing a good and almost humane piece of a soul. He was in a “damned if I do, damned if I don’t” predicament. No matter what he did he was condemned for eternity.
With that he made his way to the nearest street man he could find. The man was dirty and grimy and appeared to have aged much more than he actually was. His eyes were sunken and his hair was greyed. His clothes were torn and his shoes had so many holes in them that they almost didn’t exist. He looked worn out and tired but his physical features were not enough to prevent Ethan from what he set out to do. He approached the street man not worrying what his reaction might be.
“Take this, go to the nearest pay phone, dial 911 and tell them that there has been an incident.” He told him
The man looked up at him with dazed eyes but said nothing.
Ethan explained to the man what he had seen and instructed him to call the police department as an anonymous tipper and tell them what had happened but not to mention his name or his existence. He instructed him to act as if it were he who saw what had went on. Ethan handed the man a twenty dollar bill and informed him that if he did as he asked he could keep what remained of the money.
The man looked at him baffled but did as he was told. By the time the street man returned to their initial meeting place Ethan was gone. He protruded back into the darkness as quick as sound and the street man only got a glimpse of him as he made his way down the streets of May Brooke Falls back towards the old looking, broken down, tiny shack that he called home.

CHAPTER II. MISCONCEPTIONS
The apartment was unusually silent and the streets almost deserted. You could hear the sound of a train in the distance and every so often a passerby who was unlucky enough to obtain their self the night shift at the local twenty four hour gas station. The sun had hardly risen and a ray of light was just visible enough to notice it piercing through the blue sea colored drapes that hid the world beyond the tiny room in which she rested.
A rather elegant room it was. One light green colored wall was placed at the far end of the room surrounded by a multitude of white ones. Against the green wall lay a queen size bed with green coverings, two white and two green pillows at the head of the bed and a white headboard attached that was fit to match the rest of the ensemble. A maple wood night stand sat on each side of the bed. On the right table sat an old styled lamp, a black touchscreen cellular phone and a pager. On the other was a landline, a copy of “More Joy in Heaven” by Morley Callghan, and a 22 caliber handgun. The floors were made of hard wood and continued as such outside the room door until the entrance of the living room wear a red carpet took its place.
The living room was her safe haven. It was simple and yet somewhat mysterious and profound all at the same time. In a way, it was a reflection of her.
Two large shelves’ covered one of the walls of the living room. They were filled with an abundance of mystery and horror novels of which she loved and possessed a great interest in. She loved the mystery and horror of it all and the excitement she got from trying to solve the case before the protagonist did and she often succeeded. It was something she was good at. Something she familiarized with and something that made her comfortable, and as odd as it sounds, allowed her to get away from the stresses and worries in which her job brought upon her.
Perhaps this is because she was safe and sound inside her home as she tried to solve the case with no worries of being shot at or threated by the perpetrator but more likely than not it was because as she read the stories she knew the criminal would always be caught by the end of the story and justice would be served. It was not always like this in real life. She knew better. Allot of the time the criminal is never found and even if they are sometimes it is so difficult for the lawyers and law officials to prove their guilt that they get off free anyways. This is why she could never see herself as a lawyer. She could never live with herself if she had to defend a criminal knowing of his or her guilt and they walked free because of it.
Instead she became a detective, hunting down and putting the criminals in prison. Sure it wasn’t as large a salary and it wouldn’t necessarily prevent criminals from walking free but at least if they did walk free, it wouldn’t be due to her contribution or rather lack of, and in any case, she knew she was doing all she could do to put them behind bars.
Besides the books, the room possessed almost entirely white walls, with the exception of one wall that was burgundy in color and was buried in a surplus of photographs and pictures that were mysterious and obscured in nature consisting of a profound amount of abstract art and mystic paintings of objects people and places that were obscured and made into a collage of strange but intriguing images. On the other wall was a cabinet that held a medium sized flat screen television set and stereo system that was not the most expensive of its kind. In front of that was an “L” shaped sofa that was made of white faux-leather and it was surrounded by two white glass side tables. On top of each table lay an antique lamp with engraved glass shades. On the wall right in between the bookshelf’s and the television and sofa setup was a large window with a white frame and window seat with a burgundy cushion where someone could sit comfortably and look out the window gazing across the city streets and skyline examining the sky rises and traffic of busy people going about their business. An elevator followed by a revolving stair case made its way around and around outside the apartment door creating the illusion of a never ending stairwell. At the bottom of the steps revealed a lobby leading to a rather large white stone door. Pictures hid the white walls of the lobby making them almost completely invisible and a red carpet protruded from the bottom of the steps to the door. Light fixtures were placed simultaneously around the room giving off the illusion of a hotel like atmosphere.
This was the part of the building that she disliked the most. It was in fact all an illusion and just that. An illusion that attempted to hide the true troubles and issues that most of buildings residents possessed by creating a happy, wealthy and glamorous atmosphere when in fact most of the people residing in the dwelling experienced family trouble, death, illness, divorce, stressful careers and more. It masked reality just as the media did by glorifying money and finances and forgetting what is most important in life such as family, morals honesty, love and more. If it were up to her she would move just outside the city where there lay rolling hills and rivers encompassed by waterfalls, forest and tall patches of grass but there were no apartments to rent outside the city and she could not afford to buy a house so she was stuck in the city and all its fakeness until one day she saved up enough to buy her own house in the mountains.
It was evident that she was no exception to the concerns of the many. These troubles were brought about in her slumber as she lay in her bed not quite so sound asleep sliding back in and out of consciousness as she dreamt about the happenings of the previous week while tossing and turning uncomfortably in her rather confortable bed.
These concerns were reflected in the depths of the darkness as the night gave off an unusual and rather unsettling eerie silence. On any other night, as the clock struck the hour of dawn, the city streets would be crawling with young party-goers coming back from after hour clubs and bars in search of more fun and mischief as the rest of us lay sound asleep and warm in the comfort of our beds but on this night the streets were unusually quiet for the time of year as they were riddled with the sound of death. Somewhere off in the distance far beyond the solace of their homes in which they rest something terrible was occurring.
The phone let out an ear breaking loud ring awakening her from her sleep. She sat up in her bed for a moment feeling disoriented and confused from being waken up suddenly as well as the sleep debt she suffered frequently due to the circumstances surrounding her job. She stuck out her arm grabbing for her phone and clumsily knocked it off the side table in the process. She let out an annoyed mumble and leaned over her bed reaching for her phone. Without checking for cracks or signs of damage she answered it.
“Someone better be dead” she said answering it.
“Actually someone is dead.” A familiar deep and husky, male voice said on the other side.
She recognized the voice as her partner Jayson Dalmer. Her eyes widened with both interest and concern as she sat upright.
“What do you got for me?” She asked curiously with a hint of concern in her voice.
“Looks like a real gruesome one this time Kally.” He warned her
“A Caucasian female, seventeen years old, was brutally raped and murder outside of Morano’s Last night” her partner explained.
“Looks like there was little struggle so the officials are assuming she complied to the psychos demands but she had her throat slit anyways.” He continued.
“An anonymous caller called it in late last night but other than that there are really no leads and very little to go on”
She paused for a moment to think.
“Okay, try and track down that call, I’ll be right there.” She said in disgust.
“Alright, go down to Morano’s and the chief will fill you in on the details but I’ve got a couple of errands to run first. It’ll only be an hour or two at the most. Keep me posted” he instructed her.
With that the line went dead and she had yet again another issue to worry about as well as another interesting but gruesome case to solve and another horrendous secret to uncover all of which was sure to stir the media. Both so troubling but exciting all at the same time.
She jumped up, quickly dressed herself grabbed her phone and handgun and without eating breakfast or even brushing her hair she headed for the door and made her way to the scene of the crime.