When I finally got home, the house was empty, as expected. My uncle and aunt worked at a private clinic in town and never returned before eight o'clock. It was barely five.
I headed straight to the kitchen to see if there was anything I could snack on. Maybe I'd cook something if I found the right ingredients.
But as I entered the living room, I saw a figure slumped on the couch.
Hannah.
She was there, legs tucked under her, a bag of chips in hand, eyes glued to a documentary.
I frowned.
"How'd you get in?"
Without looking away from the screen, she raised a casual hand and replied:
"I made a spare key."
I sighed, running a hand over my face.
"And here I thought I still had some semblance of privacy…"
She just snickered and crunched a chip with satisfaction.
I sat down next to her and tried to take one.
"Hands off," she snapped, clutching the bag to her chest.
"Don't you think you're getting a bit too comfortable at my place?"
"No, why?"
Her mocking smile made me roll my eyes.
"Alright, I'm going to take a shower," I announced, standing up.
As I climbed the stairs, her voice echoed behind me.
"Oh, by the way, I corrected the letter."
I stopped dead in my tracks.
"What letter?"
"Hugo's letter. In French."
I slowly turned around, perplexed.
"In French?"
My brain quickly made the connection.
That idiot actually wrote a declaration in French?
Hannah looked up at me with an amused glint.
"There were so many mistakes it gave me a headache."
I let out a deep sigh. Hugo had asked me what fascinated Hannah, apart from medicine and tennis. I'd told him she loved French literature… And he, instead of trying to talk to her normally, had written a letter full of errors.
"It's not a real declaration," I tried to salvage the situation. "He's just practicing writing prose poems in different languages. Since he knows you're good at French, he wanted your opinion."
"What was he hoping for, exactly?"
I stayed silent.
"Honestly," she continued, "I'd never date him. He's got a pervy vibe. I'd be scared if we were alone in a room."
I raised an eyebrow.
"You're overreacting, Hannah. Hugo might be a bit… intense, but he'd never do anything weird."
My mind, however, recalled a few moments when his gaze became strange when he looked at a girl, his sweaty hands that he constantly wiped on his pants.
*'Well… Hopefully.'*
"If you say so," she concluded with a shrug.
A mocking smile stretched my lips.
"Anyway, your type of man is dead bodies on a dissection table."
She laughed.
"Exactly. By the way, you've got a corpse-like pallor today. Are you sure you're alive?"
"Very funny."
I waved her off and disappeared into the hallway leading to my room.
Once in the shower, I let the hot water run over my face. The tension of the day evaporated a bit, but my mind remained restless.
I opened the medicine cabinet and took out my pill bottle.
I didn't feel like taking them today.
These pills reminded me that I was a damn sicko, a madman society would lock up at the slightest slip-up.
After a few seconds of hesitation, I closed the bottle and put it back.
With a towel around my neck, my hair still damp, I pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt before heading downstairs.
Hannah was still there.
"You should go home, it's getting late."
She smiled, crossing her arms.
"You think you can get rid of me that easily?"
I rolled my eyes.
"You live a ten-minute walk away. It's a long way, but you've got a bike. Why didn't you come with it?"
She was about to reply when the doorbell rang.
The silence in the living room was abruptly broken by the sound of the front door. I looked up from the couch, surprised.
"I'll get it," said Hannah.
"They finished early?" I muttered to myself.
I wasn't expecting anyone, and my guardians weren't due back for hours. Yet, someone had just knocked. A wave of apprehension washed over me.
As I approached the door, I found Hannah standing there, looking slightly nervous. But before I could ask her what she was doing there, a deep voice echoed.
"Kaiser."
I turned to the man standing in the doorway. He was tall, in his thirties, with a well-trimmed beard and a piercing gaze. His dark coat revealed a badge at his belt.
"Yeah? What's up?" I asked, frowning.
"It's the police," Hannah whispered, her eyes wary.
"Huh?" I blinked, surprised.
The man stepped forward slightly, towering over me.
"Good evening. I'm Officer Tom," he said in a calm but authoritative voice. "May I come in? I have some questions for you."
I eyed him for a moment. His gaze was too direct, too insistent.
"Uh… sure," I mumbled, stepping aside to let him in.
He entered the living room with an ease that made me uncomfortable, as if he'd already decided he was at home.
"Have a seat," I said, closing the door behind him. "My guardians are out, so you'll have to wait for their return."
Officer Tom raised an eyebrow slightly and gave a faint smile.
"Oh, that's fine. It's you I wanted to talk to."
My stomach tightened.
"Huh?"
He sat down in an armchair, crossing his legs.
"Weren't you in the forest last night?" he asked casually.
I felt my heart skip a beat.
"You must have seen things..."
Before I could respond, Hannah suddenly turned to me, arms crossed, a suspicious glint in her eyes.
"What's he talking about? What did you do this time?"
I rolled my eyes, annoyed.
"You talk like I'm a delinquent..."
Then I turned to the officer and shrugged slightly.
"Yeah, Officer. I was in the woods with some friends. Apart from some stray dogs that attacked us, there was nothing special."
Officer Tom stared at me for a long moment before repeating my words in a thoughtful tone.
"Stray dogs, you say..."
A shiver ran down my spine. His gaze had changed, intensifying in a way that was almost... inhuman.
I suddenly felt dizzy, and my vision blurred. The officer, though of normal height, suddenly seemed... immense. His shadow stretched, distorted by the dim light of the living room. My breath caught.
"Wow... I should've taken my meds," I murmured, unsettled. "Look how tall he's become all of a sudden... He almost looks like the ones from yesterday..."