The Stillman House

Jason stood on the broken, cracked concrete steps and closed his eyes. He tilted his head up and took a deep breath of the outside air before he turned around to walk into the horror of this house. He was hoping that his nose was able to trap the sweet smell of fresh air instead of letting the heavy, rotting, coppery smell of blood penetrate. He lowered his head and turned around, opening his eyes and stepped into the house. The hum of the world outside the door ceased to exist, replacing it was the steady buzzing of flies and other bugs. He took his gun off of safety and went further into the house then the entryway.

The smell nearly knocked him on his ass, a sledgehammer of rot, decomposition, blood and death hit him all at once. It was a miracle he did not topple over, he would have to say that the only thing that stopped him from doing that was the condition of the carpet under his feet. It was caked with dried blood, brain matter and other fluids that he could not identify right away, he made a mental note that it was more than likely vomit, at least he was hoping that it was. He could hear the fibers of the carpet seperate with a sick crackling sound as he stepped on the carpet. His breath stopped in his throat when he looked up and was able to see straight into the living room.

About twenty feet in front of Jason was the far wall of the first room of the house, it looked as if the family used it as the living room. The television was positioned so that the screen was immediately visible when you stepped in the house, the couch was up against the wall that was in the front of the house. The far wall looked to be the wall that was used for portraits of the family. Pictures of the kid from the squad were all over the display of frames, along with three other blonde haired, blue eyed girls. Two adults kept recurring in the pictures, pretty easy to tell they were the parents. One thing that Jason noticed right away was that the boy had dark hair and brown eyes, unlike the other children or the parents.

In the middle of the family portraits a gruesome display was arranged, Jason had to turn away for just a second to compose himself. He kept his ears on high alert for any sound other than his own breathing and footsteps making the carpet crackle. He heard nothing and turned back towards the scene that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Jason was looking at the bodies of both parents standing upright against the wall, they were obviously dead. At their feet was a pool of blood that spread out onto the carpet that was at one time a light color, it was now a deep, dark maroon. Both of their hands had been nailed to the wall, their feet were spread apart, their legs had gone slack. Both faces had the eyes hollowed out, their tongues had been removed and lay at their feet, both necks had been slit. Each of them had slash marks across their stomachs and thighs, the woman had two knives sticking out of her breasts, the man had a knife in his crotch. Above each of the bodies were words painted in blood, above the woman was the word SLUT, above the man was the word PIG. Jason immediately thought of Charles Manson and his band of crazies, in the back of his head he could the Beatles "Helter Skelter" playing, it used to be one of his favorite songs.

On the couch was three other bodies, much smaller than the parents, arranged so they were leaning against each other. Judging from the hair that he could see, Jason was able to tell that they were the girls from the pictures on the wall. All of their clothes had been removed, several stab wounds were obvious on the small bodies. Across from them was the broken television set, it had a hole right in the middle of it. As far as he could tell this was the only sign of a gun being shot, everything else was done with knives of some kind.

The person that did this had planned what they were going to do, he knew that he was going to have to read the autopsy report, and he already knew the details would make him sick. On the wall next to the television set, and above it were designs of some kind also painted with blood. The biggest design was three circles overlapping one another, inside of each circle was a hand print. Jason had to look a little longer than he wanted to in order to see that each hand print was a different size than each. He looked back over at the gruesome display of the girls on the couch and at each of thier hands that had been turned up. Each hand hand had been cut deeply, blood was smeared all over the palm. Each girl had signs of sexual mutilation and abuse on them, unfortunately this was something that Jason was able to spot right away, all thanks to fifteen years on the force.

He stepped through the living room with his gun drawn, into the kitchen. From the almost sterile quality of the kitchen he was able to tell that nothing had happened in this room. He went through the kitchen and into the dining room, on the table he saw three unfinished bowls of cereal. He could smell the sour milk, apparently they had been sitting there for quite some time. Flies were buzzing in a circle as he walked into the room, they would gather around the light of the hanging lamp, and then fly against each other, drunk off of the food they had just eaten. They landed back on the table and went back to feeding. Jason continued through the house slowly, letting his ears take in everything. The only sounds he could hear were his breathing and the buzzing of the flies, notghin else. It was this absence of sound that made Jason feel the most uncomfortable of all, that and the images of the bodies in the living room. He checked each room as he passed them in the hallway, the only other thing he had found was a pile of dirty clothes in the bathroom, on the floor. He did not find one other thing throughout his search of the upstairs level or the basement. He went into the attached garage and was able to tell how the killer got into the house without anyone noticing. The small door had been left unlocked and the inside door from the kitchen to the garage was unlocked as well. An easy break in, almost the easiest one he had ever seen. In fact he thought it was alittle too easy. He made a decision that this was a set up, he was supposed to find that and think that was how it was done.

He went through the garage and found his men in the back yard, he told them to go back to the front and meet up with him by the squad. He walked around the house and found his four men waiting patiently for him. They seemed a little upset when he wouldn't share with them the details of what he found. He had to remind himself that they were young and they were eager, he was glad that they were not in there with him. He told them to basically set up crowd control and make room for the crime scene guys. He walked over to the ar and opened the back door once again. The kid was sitting up and slid all the way over to the other side of the car once the door opened up. He was visibly scared and shaken, Jason was surprised that the kid had not collapsed into a fit of hysterics.

"Hey, kid, relax. See the uniform? I'm the good guys. Calm down alright. I just want to ask you some questions, but not here, ok?"

The kid stared at him for a second and then jus tnodded his head and looked out the window next to his face. Jason watched the stilted, jerky movements of this boy and immediately felt sadness for him. Even though it was bad, Jason hoped that the kid had walked in and found everyone like that, not that he witnessed anything that happened in there. Jason closed the door and went around to the dirvers side. He waited behind the wheel of the car until the M.E. came up to him.

Johann leaned onto the window and started talking to Jason, "What should I know about him?" He was motioning towards the boy who was satring out of his window scanning the street. It seemed to Johann that he was looking for something, or someone, coming down the street.

Jason looked over at the boy and felt a deep sadness for him knowing that he will never be the same after all of this. Looking at the scene on the inside of the house Jason knew that this little boy's childhood was done. "I'm taking him down to the station and waiting for Billie. I think she's puttin's ome overtime in on this one."

"Alright Jason, keep an ear out for my page. As soon as I get everything together we'll go over the findings. How many should I bring?"

Jason leaned out of the window and whispered to Johann, who had squatted next to the window now, "At least two others and you, but make sure they have strong stomachs. From the smell I would say that they have been in there at least a day or more. It is grisly Johnny, really grisly."

"Thanks Jason, watch for my page," he stood up and tapped the top of the car letting Jason know it was safe to go. Jason watched the sides of the road as he left with the boy and they started to drive towards headquarters. At first he thought that he would not get anything out of the boy.

"Hey kid, you thirsty? Want some water? I have some right here," he reached next to him on the seat and handed a cold bottle to the boy. He took it and opened it up and drank it all in one motion. He covered the empty bottle back up and held onto it.

For the first time since passing out Jason heard the boy talk. He simply said, "Thanks." His voice sounded much better than the last time he used it. It was deeper than Jason thought it would be, his eyes seemed to take on a different look then as well. The further away from the scene they got the more he relaxed, the less he twitched and shook. Jason tried a little further with the kid.

"Do you know where we're going?"

The kid turned and looked at Jason, a slight smile on his face. He seemed to become human once they were away from his street. He was looking right at Jason when he said, "I'm not deaf. I heard you talking to the other cop. We are going down to the office to wait for Billie."

Jason was a little more than shocked to see the change in the kid llike this. It was as if he was replaced by someone completely different. Not only was he talking, but he was also joking, smiling even. "Wasn't sure if you had registered anything around you for a minute there kid, so sorry."

They drove down the road a little bit before the kid opened his mouth again, "Jackson."

Jason was caught off guard by this, he jumped just a little because the kid had become so quiet again. He was lost in thought and was pulled right back into reality by this. "Christ kid! What did you say?"

"Jackson, my name is Jackson. You had asked me that a while ago. I thought I should answer you. Sorry it took me so long." He had his hand out, offering a handshake.

Jason looked at him for a moment. It surprised him that the kid had his hand out for a hand shake. It also surprised him that, after everything that kid must have been through in the house, here he was using enough of his wits to wait until they were at a stop light to make his introduction. All of this was making Jason really uneasy. Something was just nor right with this kid, he hoped that Billie would be able to make sense of it all.

Arriving at the Scene

The police cruiser came to a halt at the front of the ramshackle, run down house at the end of Wilson Lane. The once quiet cul-de-sac becoming a mixture of noises filling the afternoon air. Car tires were making scratching noises as they rolled over pebbles on the street, doors were slamming as they were being opened by the curious residents of the street watching the police ride in. You could hear knocking as neighbors came out and rustled their friends out of their house without going in, God forbid they should miss any of the action about to happen. The whole culd-de-sac was filled with curious people being shuttled out of the way by the cops as they tried to tie the yard off with bright yellow police lines. All of the residents that were home and out in the street looked in amazement as the squad car stopped and the cop got out.

Jason Riley was, up to that time, a ten year veteran of the police force. Ten long years of rolling up to scenes that he wished he could forget, domestic assaults that had turned tragic, car crashes where the victims would have to be sponged off of the pavement, shootings that left so much blood behind. Today was a first for him however, today he walked into a scene that he wished he only had read about, the images still haunt him to this day.

"Car 36, what is your 20?" Rosie's voice crackled across the CB in his car.

"Just pulled up in front of 2251 Wilson Lane. The whole street is filled with peepers. Inside the house you said?" Jason wanted to make sure that she was correct about the location of where the caller was. He had no desire toe nter the house, it looked as if he might get an infection just by touching the door knob, or the house might collpase if more than wind touched it. He knew that the property would be condemned before he even got out of the car. It had broken windows, peeling paint, weeds that had grown to almost a foot high choked out the front yard. There was a car of unidentifable orgini because of all therust that covered it on the driveway, and the screen door only had one hinge attached to it. The heavy wood front door was left hanging open, no noise was coming from inside. It was the flutter of unease that made Jason pull his revolver before going into the house.

"Is anyone in there?," Jason yelled to the house. He waited in silence for about ten seconds before he used his thumb to push the safety off on his gun. The nickel-plated barrel glinted in the sun as he took two steps towards the open door. He heard a shuffling noise from inside and then stopped, his hand shot out as he thumbed the hammer back in the ready position, his finger rested on the trigger. "Come out with your hands where I can see them," he called to the still empty doorway.

He couldn't tell if it was the unusally warm day so early in the season, or if it was the crowd that was making him this keyed up, but there was definetly something that was making every hair on the back of his neck stand up. His senses seemed to have increased by a hundred, every noise, smell, sight, touch was magnified. He waited, watching the empty doorway, hoping that a figure would materialize so he knew what he should expect inside. Still nothing, the tension was starting to infuriate him.

Suddenly in the doorway he saw a figure that made him almost pull the trigger. He saw a shaggy, disheveled looking young boy standing in the entry. Long, staggly, dirty hair matted with blood hung down to his shoulders. His face looked like he was fighting a battle, trying so ahrd not to cry and laugh hysterically at the same time. In his hands, which were also covered with blood, he was holding a long butcher knife in the left, and a gun in the right. His feet were bare and had blood over the tops of them, his clothes were stained with spots of blood. Jason levelled the gun so this ghastly figure was in the middle of the sight on top of the nickel-palted barrel, "FREEZE! DROP THE WEAPONS NOW! I SAID NOW DAMNIT!!"

The boy seemed to flinch just a little, he had no idea how close to death he was just then, he had no idea where he was. The only thing that he knew was that his family was dead. He had heard yelling and went outside to see what was happening. He did not even know that he had a knife or a gun in his hand. When he got to the door he was confused as to why the policeman was pointing a gun at him. He flinched when the cop yelled at him, he was able to hear two words, Freeze and Damnit. He looked down at his hands then and realized why the cop was holding the gun level at him, he saw the bloody knife and the gun. He dropped them and then fell to his knees crying. He felt hot tears sting his eyes as they welled up and fell down his face. He could see the cop walking towards him with the gun still up, he could not understand a wod that was being said to him however.

Jason saw the boy flinch and felt his finger tighten on the trigger even more, surprisingly it did not set the hammer into motion. He felt something errie and odd in the air, it was almost like he felt a cold hand touch his and stop his fingers from moving. Any other time in his life he would have gone with his gut reaction, which would have been to shoot, but something about the boy and the way he was moving told him not to do that. He felt so much better once he saw the boy fall to his knees, yet he still had to assess the situation. He kept the gun raised but his finger off the trigger, he had eased the hammer down (thakfully he had a double-action revolver), and walked forward keeping the boy in his eyesight the whole time. He recognized the smell of death and blood as he got closer to the house, it was a smell that he was familiar with and one that he will never forget. His suspicion of this boy grew more after he smelled that, his finger tightened once more on the trigger, his eyes never left him. Jason walked up the porch and chanced one glance away from the boy, but left the gun held on him, to look inside the door. He nearly vomited from the smell and saw an image that gave him nightmares for years afterwards.

From his one glance into the living room Jason was able to tell one thing, a massacre had happened here, a killing he knew would be notorious for the rest of time. He had never seen so much blood in one area. He could see swirls and smudges covering the walls in his line of vision, he was not able to discern if it was letters or symbols that he was looking at, he was also able to see feet on the carpet. The smell was so powerful this close to the house he had a hard time believing that this boy was able to stay in there for long, in fact he was ready to believe that he had not been in there for over five minutes. No one could have possibly been in there without a face mask, it was too thick. Jason stopped his glance inside and turned towards the boy, his vision had become a little blurry from his eyes tearing up as he held in his omlette from this morning.

"Son," his voice a little strained as he tried to stop the puke from spewing, "I need you to get up and come with me to the car, right now, please."

The boy turned and looked at Jason, his eyes filled with tears he tried to speak but all he could do was stammer. He blinked a few times, Jason watched those tears of his fall from his eyes as he looked down at his feet. Finally he looked up at Jason, the boy was able to get the word sout this time, "Why? What did I do?"

Jason looked at the boy for a few minutes trying to size him up, was he being serious? Was he yanking his chain? Did he really not know what was in the other room? Jason decided to treat this kid like he was in shock, not a crazed killer. Based on what he saw in his little glance he judged that this frail, shaggy young boy could not have done that. "Son, please, walk with me to the car so I can keep you safe. That's all, you're not in trouble. I just want you to be in my car so I can make sure no one else is here."

In a very calm, quiet, errie voice the boy whispered to Jason, "He is not here anymore. He left right when I got home." He pointed up the street behind Jason and held his finger level, " He went that way, driving a car of fire." At this the boy's eyes rolled up into his head and then he fell to the ground. Jason was not ready for the boy to fal and tried to catch him with the one hand that was not holding a gun, but he missed. He heard the boy's head crack against the wood of the door and saw his body go limp.

"Shit!" Jason sheathed his gun adn grabbed the boy under his knees and his shoulders, dead lifted him off the ground and brought him to the back of his squad car. By this time two other squads had shown up and they were getting out of their cars coming towards Jason. When they saw him putting the boy into the car two of the cops started towards the front door. jason saw this out of the corner of his eye, "Don't go another fucking foot Rodriguez, trust me, you don't want to see. Willimas, get back here with Miller and Wade right now. This boy needs help."

Rodriguez and Willimas, neither of them 30 yet, young and fit, came over to the car and stood next to Miller and Wade. The four of them made a small wall that the peanut gallery could not see around. Miller was the first to say anything, "Is he dead Boss?"

Jason turned and looked at him, "No Miller, he's not. But from what I saw when I looked in that door he might be better off if he was. If he witnessed anything that happened in there he will never be the same. All his innocence is gone from this day on." He looked each ofhis patrols in their eyes before giving his next order.

"No one is to go to that front door. I want the two of you" motioning towards Rodriguez and Wade, "to run the back yard. Miller and Williams patrol the front yard. I am going in to see if anyone else is in there, anyone with a breath anyway. I doubt I will find anyone, if I do they will be running. In that case you are to stop them using any kind of force you deem necessary." He added that last statement as a way of making sure that they were all on their feet.

Miller and Willimas went running to the back yard witht heir guns up, after they passed through the gate they went into two directions hunched over. Rodriguez and Wade pulled thier guns and went two seperate ways to corner off the property. Jason turned towards the other cars that were now approaching and using his hand to signla them, told them to cut the sirens. He looked at the drivers and signaled for them to get out quietly, round up the spectators and get them out of here. All of the training he had hoped he would never have to use was coming out of the deepest recesses of his brain. All of those, at the time, stupid training exercises were now saving his life. He silently thanked Sargent Bobkowski for drilling all of this shit into his head.

He turned back towards the car and looked inside, the boy was breathing and sleeping. Jason rolled the window down enough to let in some air and then closed the door. He turned towards the front of the house, he raised his hand and held up a fist, letting the rest of the cops know not to move. He pulled his gun once more and walked towards the house, once again his gut was getting a strange feeling. He was not aware of it, but he was about to change his life forever once he was inside the nightmare of the Stillman house.