My body felt like I was hit by a truck. My bones ached, my muscles were sore, and my head pounded. The nurse who looked me over said it was due to adrenaline and how my body had initially locked up.

Between the police and the hospital, I wasn’t released until the next day, late afternoon. There weren’t many people I could call for help. Normally I’d ring Francis, but…the thought caused a lump to form in my throat, and my heart felt like it was shredded. It was a jarring feeling to know someone was dead, someone you loved like a brother. I sat in that hospital bed staring at the ceiling remembering all his smiles. The good morphed into bad as I wondered how much pain he must have been in. That led to more tears and eventually vomiting.

I was nervous calling Elise since I’d never really asked her for anything before. We were work buddies, not friends. But she didn’t hesitate, and without me wondering where I was going, she took me to her apartment. I was so zoned out I never got a chance to really see the outside of the place.

We didn’t speak much, she said she wasn’t sure what she could say to make this even a little bit okay. The inside of her apartment wasn’t much bigger than mine, but it was in a safe part of town, and she decorated it to feel like a real home.

While I showered she set up her couch, called Augustine and explained everything, and he told her to relay his deepest condolences and to take the week to grieve. Of course, that made me worry more. There was no way I could go back to my place; the killer saw my face. The police treated it all like I stumbled upon someone stealing my underwear, not carving into my friend.

I knew in my heart there was no way I’d be able to ever be in that apartment again. It wasn’t like Francis got sick and died in the hospital. He was murdered in the place he should be the safest. If the fear of being in there didn’t get to me, the utter depression would.

Exhaustion got the better of me and before I knew it, I was fast asleep. The smell of sauce and spices woke me, and the view out Elise’s window was dark. Night time. I’d come to fear this time of day. As a kid we believed monsters were under our beds or hiding in our closets, parents taught us that was silly and we trusted them. But monsters are real and they are in our closets and—

“You awake?” Elise’s voice was soft and the sound of her footsteps shook me from my dreaded thoughts.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

She sat beside me, worry and sympathy shown in her cornflower blue eyes. “Your thoughts aren’t a safe place to be right now, Andy.” Gently, she took my hand in her own. “I don’t have a roommate or anything. You can stay here as long as you need to. Don’t let that be something else worrying you.”

“I heard one of the cops talking at the station; he said the killer carved words into Francis’ chest and stomach.” The pounding of my heart echoed in my ears. I didn’t want to repeat them; at the same time, I didn’t want to know it all by myself. “Said he wrote ‘Come Back To Me’ in his skin.”

“Oh, Andy.” She pulled me close and wrapped me in her arms. I was tall and lanky and Elise was small and plump. It wasn’t a graceful hug, but it was one I didn’t realize I needed until her warmth thawed the chill of fear.

“Who would do that to Francis?” The tears flowed, and my already raw throat began to close. “What does any of it mean?”

“I don’t know sweetheart and I have nothing to compare it to, but you know what I do know?” She scratched the nape of my neck, and it felt nice to be comforted.

“What?”

“I know how to get through sadness. I made spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread. I picked up a triple chocolate cake at the bakery by work, and there’s a rom-com marathon on Lifetime. I say we stuff our faces and cry it out with Reese Witherspoon and Julia Roberts.”

Suddenly my sobs were replaced with laughter. It wasn’t going to fix anything, the fear was there, but Elise wanted to help me forget for a night and I wanted that, too.

“Sounds perfect. What can I do to help?”

We spent the next hour filling our faces with delicious carbs and then sat on the couch, each with a huge slice of chocolate cake, and began our movie marathon. At around eleven I looked over and noticed Elise was fast asleep. I grabbed the remote and changed the channel to the news. There had to be something on there about Francis. And while just thinking his name made my pulse ache, I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t real.

It wasn’t until twenty minutes into the newscast that they began to talk about it.

“What we have been able to find out is Francis Darby was brutally murdered in his apartment over Tumble Dry Cleaners last night. Police are tight lipped on this case, but a source at the police department told me it was similar to the murders six months ago. Of course, when questioned Captain Green offered ‘no comment,’ and it has us all wondering if there’s a serial killer on the loose, and what does this mean for the young men of New West City?”

I couldn’t hear anymore, hitting the button the living room was immediately washed in darkness and silence.

“What happened?” Elise jolted awake. “I fell asleep. Damn, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s late. You should go to bed. I’m going to wash up and pass out myself.” I didn’t want to tell Elise what I just saw because I didn’t want her panicking on top of everything else.

She hugged me good night and when her bedroom door closed, I turned the side lamp on and reached for my phone. I Googled everything I could find on the murders six months ago. There wasn’t much which was a little concerning, but one in the New West Gazette went into detail about the killings. It sounded exactly like Francis’ death. Words were carved into the bodies, but the reporter wasn’t able to find out what exactly. Going through the archives I found an article from two months ago, same reporter, wondering what ever happened to the killer. He spoke about his sudden disappearance speculating he left town or was killed himself.

I knew from reading this that the killer was back and for some reason, Francis was his latest victim.

Scouring both articles, I searched for anything that could help. A name, a location, someone aside from the reporter who knew and would believe me that I was in serious danger.

Captain Green appeared often, but another name was repeated almost as much. Detective Raymond Clancy. He was lead on the case before the killer disappeared. I wondered if he would be taking over again since the murderer was back?

Doing a search for him didn’t give me much with the police force. I wondered if he’d retired or quit? I scrolled a little more, eventually finding Raymond Clancy, Private Investigator. There was a number and address. It was too late to do anything about it now, but first thing in the morning I was calling him.

I wasn’t able to shut the light off beside me, and I checked and double checked all the locks in Elise’s apartment. I knew the killer saw my face and I’d told the police. They had told me they would have a police car drive around Elise’s apartment, and to let them know when I started back to work and a police presence would be there.

It was the most concern I’d seen from any of them. How could they not be more caring that my life was in danger, that I’d just witnessed the only person in my life that mattered slaughtered before my eyes? A quick glance of my clothes answered that question. They likely saw me as a poor guy, not important to society. Not realizing I was a man saving for a better life. To them I was barely worth the man hours. Well, I happened to like living and wanted to do it for at least another seventy years. Tomorrow, I’d call this Raymond Clancy and see about him swapping some information and maybe, if I was really lucky, he’d help to keep me alive.