I assigned the days succeeding Rodger’s disappearance a woman named Christine to Rodgers household to search for any traces to aid and solve his case, and his controversial disappearance.
His neighbors declared he had rushed into his property and retired inside his home. He never came out. The acquaintances were questioning if he murdered himself, but there were no traces of him leaving any clues why he was missing. I gave Christine orders as the chief of law enforcement to go to Rodgers home, and to compile evidence, but to be wary, because several employees have quit due to unexplainable circumstances.
The swat teams and CSI crews were at his home. Upon her arrival, she could hear many flies as she rolled up her window. The noise was deafening. She lined up her automobile next to Rodgers got out of the car and strolled up the paved pathway to the front door.
She recognized as she went over to enter the home was a sign. It read. Welcome, The Aragon Family.
Christine walked to the door and discovered on the home were thousands of flies. Her presence divided the flies as she got closer to stuccoed walls where they were flying. The flies appeared to compose in cursive. The comments in which she saw sent chills down Christine’s vertebra.
He comes to feast upon your soul. Walk into this home and you shall bear the mark of the beast. Beware the shadows!
Christine shakily pulled the key out of her handbag and stuck the key into the deadbolt. She turned until she heard the click. The sound sent chills down her bones. She could see the hairs on her arms begin to lift as she twisted the doorknob and opened the door into the home. The air stunk of sulfur. She coughed as she wobbled away from the entrance. The stench was extraordinarily powerful. It hurt her eyes as she lingered for the smell to leave the household. After staggering backward she went over to her automobile and grabbed a white mask to shield her from her from the vile-smelling odor.
She walked up the paved road again and found herself peering at the flies. They were no longer buzzing along the wall. She was seeing something inconceivable and unexplainable. The flies were stiff on the floor. The land on the lot was covered in black lifeless insect remains. What? Christine said as she made her way to the door. Christine looked into Rodgers home. She placed the mask on and stepped inside his home. The ground had been blanketed in Mala Mujer plants. Which made it complicated to travel around the city, and the water from the lake was still falling out blood red from the tap. What happened to you Rodger? She reflected as she walked around the living room section. The guy had class and had many pictures of his woman and kid. Christine walked on the wood floor and declared she was now more than ever working to investigate his disappearance.
Christine strolled around the home looking at all the furniture. Rodger had many cabinets and bookshelves in a chamber in the rear of the home, but when she arrived to his chamber, she discovered nothing strange or out of place. There was no foul play in the home at all. She strode back into the living room area and walked toward the restroom door. She snickered as she glanced down at a Playboy magazine. Rodger, you are a classic husband. I wonder if Irene knew you read these magazines. She went over to the restroom and spun the doorknob. She had desired to go since she fled the police station, but something spooked her as she opened the door. An arachnid fell down from the ceiling and touched down on the wall near the doorknob. Christine with a sudden shift of her legs and feet crushed the spider. The spiders gut spewed on her shoe and on the wall.
She laughed and announced it deceased on the spot. Christine was a muscular girl who went to martial arts classes and hot yoga twice a week. She studied at the spider guts on the wall and glanced down at her tennis shoe. The spider’s leg even jerked, as it remained attached to her tennis shoe. Christine jumped as the leg twitched, but realized there on the floor were footprints. The footprints were of a male adult. She studied them and thought they had to be Rodgers.
She opened the door to the restroom and realized the footprints lead straight to the lavatory. The toilet right in front of a colossal mirror. The bathroom huge, and the lavatory three feet away. She followed the footsteps up to the mirror. Christine questioned how the footsteps got there. She recognized the city had the same dilemma. The cream from the Mala Mujer staining all the wood floors. The pathway of footsteps leading up to the mirror and disappeared, and as Christine looked into the mirror, and did not see a reflection. The mirror seemed bizarre. It rippled and changed. What’s going on? Christine looked harder into the mirror and peered at a black hand reaching out of the mirror Christine questioned her sanity and moved away from the mirror. She bumped into the toilet and jumped. She screamed as she saw the black cloudy hand reaching for her as it escaped the mirror. What the…? Christine said as she forced her way toward the exit. She looked at a warped image of a devilish face staring at her in the mirror.
The being said.
I require your soul. You cannot escape me.
The creature looked evil. Christine’s heart thump so hard she did not believe her eyes. The report in which the chief told her and the stories they informed her about were fact. Rodger investigating the supernatural. The black hands reaching out of the mirror must have killed Rodger; or worse, the being killed him while conducting his investigation and destroyed his soul. Christine made her way out of the restroom and drew deep breaths though she had the mask on she inhaled and tasted sulfur. Her eyes hurt as she tried to take a breath. She rushed out of the home. She left the door wide-open, but as the black hands moved throughout the residence. The door slammed.
Christine did not believe what she was seeing. She pulled the mask off, fell to her knees, and cried. The dead flies were all twitching and moving where she sat. The buzz from the flies hurt her ears as they flew up towards the front entrance of the house. The flies created an impression of a monstrous-looking creature with long horns. The creature stepped towards me. He lay his palm on my forehead and suddenly the flies took off towards the home. The flies were engaging suicide as they all flew hard into the door and walls of the house. Christine pulled herself together and forced her way to her automobile rushing at top speed. She took out her keys hit the unlock button on her remote, and opened the door, and got into the car slamming the door, stuck the key into the ignition and high-tailed it out of there.
When she was further than a mile away from Rodgers home, she appeared to sob. Her pulse was rapid and she could sense the adrenaline pouring through her nerves and this cluster in her belly. “What the hell?” She replied. She pulled off to the side of the street and punched the drive wheel of the automobile. Christine, she declared. Pull yourself together lady. The whole scene looked creepy. She put her hand on her other arm and felt something on her flesh. She noticed her skin was black. Her arm had the image of a hand. It was black, and as she fixated on her arm, she recognized it said Illuminati. The word formed and terrified her. Christine manic and scared put her head on the drive wheel and took a deep breath. She was struggling to center herself. She picked her eyes up and noticed the road she was on was Illuminati. The black spot on her arm disappeared, and it left her with questions.
What happened to you Rodger? Where did you go and are you alive? What is happening and why did that black monster of flies not slay me? It makes no sense. Christine still resting in her car stared at the neighborhood she was in. The streets all had strange names like Devils Lane, Sins Drive, Bloody Avenue, and many others. It was a strange city, but Devils Lake was the reason for the bizarre names. The city’s people viewed something haunted the mountain and evil. Christine was a native to the city and someone not acquainted the city, or the city’s mythology. The problem was she learned how the city shaped, and it scared her. The city was in the shape of a Devils’ skull with horns branching the city further into the mountain, but few live near Camp Devils Lake.
Christine focused on her arms moving her arm around looking for the black mass was on her arm just moments ago. She centered her emotions and could focus on the current case. Christine put her car in drive and made her way into the city. Christine looked up at the biggest building and drove into an underground parking parked her car and opened the door. She looked at her arm as the black mass again showed a name called Devil’s Den as her arm burned she looked away and made her way up to the elevator. Her attention turned when she was making her way into the building when a man called her from a distance.
Christine, Christine, how are you doing today?
Christine looked at the man and noticed it was Jerome. He was a small man who loved to draw. She could tell he was in a hurry to catch up to her. Christine rolled her eyes and waited for him to catch up to her. What’s up to Jerome? How are you today? I asked first he said. I am doing well, and you Christine said. Jerome said. I am doing well he said. I have just completed painting a portrait of a demon looking creature. You did what? Christine asked. Jerome explained. I had to go to a home and paint a portrait of an infernal-looking monster. Why do such a task? He claimed there was an inhuman slaughter in one home in the city. He was shuddering as he informed me of the household’s tragedy.