Static Reflections: Book 1 of The M... - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Tyler drove down the dark and curving road, past flatlands, and looked for somewhere he could stop and calm down. Boris was back there, in that house, with Amaranthe. He was all alone with what was most likely a killer.
The German shepherd gripped the wheel as the golden weight in his mind constantly shifted on either side. Think, damn it! You could just run away from all this, leave him behind, steal his car, and he could die. Or, you could go back and what?! What can you do?! Go in there and be a hero?! With what fucking weapon?! God damn it, god damn it, god damn it! He smacked the steering wheel multiple times.
Why him? Why did this have to happen to him of all animals? And why did Tyler keep having this fight with himself in his mind? He had already told the otter he wouldn't leave him.
This was insane. There were two killers back there that, legally, should be in custody. He had a phone and the power to do that. He could pull over and call right now with his data.
But something inside Tyler just kept his foot pressed on the accelerator, driving down the ominous asphalt with only the light from Boris's car to guide him. The further he got from the situation behind him, the more nervous he got.
Up ahead, the white lights from a gas station could be seen, calling out to him. The canine's eyes flicked down to check the gas meter, unsurprised to find that it was near full. He would be surprised if Boris even let it get half empty, to be honest. A little down the road, Tyler pulled into the gas station and parked in a spot off to the side. He let go of the wheel and sat back, tilting his head back against the headrest.
Deciding to try and calm himself with the power of music, he reached his hand up and fussed with the fancy radio. As soon as he pressed the power button, a classical piano tune began playing. Tyler closed his eyes, trying to relax himself to the sound. He had always enjoyed piano, sure, but knowing that Boris played it and what was going on, well, it certainly wasn't helping.
Go back, Tyler. Find something that can help you. If Boris dies, it will never leave you. That's what you told him, isn't it? Fuck.
Tyler sighed, eyes flicking open. The dog began searching around the car for something, anything, he could use as a weapon. He even opened the glove compartment to check if maybe his murderific companion had any spare knives he kept in there. It's not like he knew how that mirror portal blade thing worked.
Just his luck. No weapons. He shook his head as the song continued to play, and he put the car in reverse, pulling out of the generic gas station just as soon as he had pulled in and sped down the road. Hopefully, Boris wasn't already--
Fuck. Faster and faster, the car careened down the empty street in the dead of night, Tyler hopefully going quick enough to make it back in time. He decided that he would just find a weapon there. The reason he had even driven off in the first place is so that the wolf didn't suspect anything.
The small white house quickly came into view, and Tyler rushed to park on the side of the road, despite the lane being only big enough for one vehicle. He sat there, looking at the creepy golden light leaking from the windows.
Alright, game time, Ty. You just gotta go in there and hope Boris is still alive and if he isn't-- He sighed, leaving the car to idle as he unbuckled, opening the door and stepping out, shutting it slowly but firmly so it wouldn't make a loud noise.
Coming around the car, the canine slowly got closer to the property, dreading what was to come. That is until he saw a large lump in the grass that definitely shouldn't have been there. A sinking feeling rose inside of him, and he sped up his movement, going over to the strange form and kneeling. Using his hands, he rolled it over and gasped at the sight.
"Boris!" He gripped the otter. "Boris, wake up!"
Nothing. The German shepherd felt panic rising. He placed his hand on the mustelid's chest and felt that he was still breathing, but tugged his hand back when he realized how sticky Boris's clothes were.
Pulling out his phone and switching on the flashlight, he shined it over his body and immediately noticed the dark red staining his ravewear and the cuts that made slits in his shirt. He moved the light around and noticed lesions on his face and arms, and his eyes just about popped out of his head when he saw the otter's left hand.
A piece of sharp glass was impaling through it, blood crusting around the spot where it met the skin under his fur. The sight was an unholy one, and Tyler imagined how that would feel like in his hand. He cringed, shuddering.
Well, he couldn't leave him like this. Rushing back to the car, Tyler opened the back door and let it stay there as he went back to Boris's body, gingerly sliding his arms under him and lifting him. The otter groaned, and Tyler looked down, thinking he might open his eyes. "Boris?"
When there was no answer, he brought him to the dark blue vehicle and rotated just outside the door so that the otter's head would be going first. He bent his knees and very slowly inserted the luggage he was carrying into the open door. Tyler's chocolate eyes lingered on Boris for a moment, and he sighed, pulling back out of the car and pushing the wounded animal's feet up. He put his hand on his hip as he looked back toward the abode nearby.
Without a doubt, he needed to get Boris to a hospital, if that was even possible. But first, he felt himself being drawn toward the house.
He needed to see what happened inside. If Boris survived, then chances are Amaranthe didn't.
Tyler walked down the dirt driveway, finding the same golden car that Boris and Amaranthe had taken there. First, he decided to try and check if any of the doors were unlocked. Happily, he found that Boris had left the passenger side open.
Tyler looked around the soft seats for anything that might have been left there, then tried the glove compartment. Even more bad luck, it required a key which he didn't have.
After determining that he found nothing else in the vehicle, Tyler walked toward the three steps to the door. The middle step had broken, and there were red footprints on the top and bottom steps. Did that happen in the struggle? Tyler slowly climbed the steps and then peeked into the glass, hoping that a large white wolf wouldn't turn the corner and barge at him. Once it was safe, he reached for the knob, pushed open the door, and stepped inside, staying on his guard.
Looking down, he noticed that more bloody prints led past the otherwise clean washroom and living room, turning left around a corner. Tyler was sure he would find the answer to all of this at the end of the trail.
Walking to the side of the prints, the dog located the kitchen and found the set of knives, reaching over and pulling one out from the wooden block that held them. Looking at his reflection on its shiny surface, Tyler saw the image of his grandfather, dead on the floor, knife in his chest, and blood seeping from his mouth. His hand was shaking, then, but he couldn't stop now.
Safely armed with a weapon, he followed the bloody footprints, turning down a hallway with beige walls. There was an open door on the right, the scarlet path going right inside. It was eerily quiet. Tyler held the knife out as he swallowed. "Hello?!" He called, waiting for an answer. "I-If you're in there . . . I have a knife!" There was still no response.
Tyler got even closer, just about to turn into the doorway. Steeling his trembling nerves, he quickly turned the corner, and his heart fell into his feet and remained there.
It was reminiscent of the scene with Hugh, only much, much worse. The floor had drops and lines of crimson all over it and gore-drenched the sheets on the bed. Tyler could practically feel how much heavier it would be if he had tried to carry them.
But that would be impossible with the three bodies that were strewn across the bed, all limp, all dead. Tyler couldn't tell how they died from where he was standing, but he noticed the ropes on the two of them.
The animal in the middle was the white wolf, alive and driving not even thirty minutes ago. All of this, whatever happened here, had happened in mere minutes.
He hadn't even noticed the devices littering the floor or the smear of blood on the back of the door before an immense sick feeling crashed over him like a wave, and he set the knife on the floor.
The German shepherd turned and rushed down the hall, pushing open the first door on the left and, finding what he had hoped for, practically slid on his knees toward the toilet. He rapidly fumbled the lid open and then bent his head over the bowl, retching out everything he had eaten recently.
He coughed as dark bile erupted from his throat and hit the water. Tears came to his eyes, and he groaned and panted while on his knees.
After the barrage was over, he felt a tear roll down his cheek as he stared at the mess below. His throat was on fire, and the smell almost made him begin another round of vomiting, but he fought it.
Closing the lid, Tyler wiped his mouth with his forearm and rested his cheek on it, feeling the cool porcelain against his face. The dog raised his hand and pressed down the handle, the toilet roaring as the water flushed. He sat there for a bit longer, formulating a plan for a moment before knowing what he had to do. Standing up, he went to the sink and rinsed his mouth out of the awful taste of what was inside of him.
Returning to the carnage from before, he willed his anxiousness to stay down as he got closer to the bed. Dreading what he was about to do but knowing he needed to, he pressed his knees against it. Amaranthe's head was at the foot of the bed, the rest of his body splayed out, cut up and bloody. Tyler looked down and— "Oh my god!" He shouted, jumping back. Where the wolf's left eye once was, an empty socket surrounded by cherry ichor remained.
Tyler felt like hurling again, but he had to stay focused. It was so, so hard, but Boris needed to go to the hospital. The more time he wasted here, the less likely he was to live. The only reason he had been taking his time so far is that he knew there was no way Absalom would let him go down without a fight. And what happened here wasn't it.
Using a hand to shield the side of his face so he could avoid seeing Amaranthe's lack of an eye, the German shepherd groaned as he placed his knees on the sticky red sheets. This is so fucking disgusting. Tyler could barely even handle what he was doing at the moment. He crawled on the bed and tried to ignore everything he was feeling, reaching Amaranthe's pants.
Tyler patted his pocket and heard the chink of keys. Digging his fingers inside, he fished out the car keys and then put them in his pocket, getting circles of blood on his shorts. Lifting the wolf's hip with one hand, he pulled the killer's black phone out with the other, putting it in his other pocket along with his phone. He quickly crawled back off the mess and stood up.
First, he ran back out to the golden car Amaranthe drove, pulling the door open and using the key to gain access to the glove box. Inside, he found a pistol which he finally felt some victory in discovering.
Tyler took the weapon and rushed to Boris's car, putting it in the glove box for later. After he obtained it, he put the keys back in his pocket and entered the house once more, searching in the washroom and the kitchen, eventually finding a box of bullets for the gun. Not only this but easily found supplies to clean up the bloody footprints all over the floor. In fact, he had found more cleaning supplies than anyone would ever need. It took longer than he would have liked to get rid of the entire red path.
Afterward, Tyler went back to the room and pulled out Amaranthe's phone. He used the emergency call function so he wouldn't have to gain access and dialed 911. He didn't have time to breathe before the operator picked up the line.
"911, do you need an ambulance, police, or fire department?" the female voice asked.
"My name is Amaranthe Snow," Tyler said, trying to adjust his voice to match a wolf's tone. "I have killed two animals, and now I'm going to kill myself. You can find my body by tracking this phone. Goodbye."
The canine hung up and threw the device next to the dog's dead body as soon as he finished. Going at max speed, he ran out of the room and back to where he left the box of bullets, listening to the rattling and clinking inside as he sprinted full-stop back to the car that held his injured companion.
Tyler ran around the front and pulled open the driver's side door, sliding himself in and not bothering to put his seatbelt on before speeding away again.