The Huntress Bloodlust (Pt2 )

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Chapter 11

My first trip - the first after a very long time. It felt strange to go out into the night. As I stood in the portal, I remained there for a few moments and listened hard. It was a cool November evening, but not as cool as it should have been around this time of year. My eyes searched the surrounding area for something suspicious, but all I could see were the trees and shrubs, still wearing autumn leaves. I didn’t know what I had expected. That the monsters met outside my front door night after night and lay in wait for me to come out, so they could finish me off right on the threshold? Instead of that, there was absolute silence. To be honest, I wasn’t really ready for a confrontation with my enemies. I felt kind of rusty and yet didn’t trust my skills. Insecure, I looked back over my shoulder into the nave of the church. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea,” I pondered. Maybe I should wait until I have tested my ability and felt the old competence inside of me again, that always had me storming off without much thinking. The hesitation was strange to me and I could only overcome it by thinking of what risks the reporter had taken to help me.

Without a hitch, I arrived at Mister Meyers’ house. Quickly, I found his name on the doorbell panel and rang the bell. I patiently waited for the buzzing sound, which would tell me that the door was opened. But even after several minutes nothing happened. I tried it once more. Again, the door wasn’t opened. Either he wasn’t at home or he intentionally refused to let me in. But how was he supposed to know I was the visitor? He lived on the twelfth floor of the building. I stood in the entrance area, which wasn’t visible from above. I decided to call him. After a few seconds he actually picked up the phone.

“Miss Pearce, what a surprise!” he said, amazed. I heard him panting and I wondered what he was doing.

“Are you at home? I rang the bell, but nobody opened,” I said, listening carefully and waiting for the door to be opened, now.

“What do you want?” he snapped at me. His rudeness made me speechless for a moment. Then I cleared my throat.

“I was wondering, how you were doing and just wanted to drop by,” I said.

I didn’t get a reply from him and I began to wonder, whether or not he was still on the phone.

“Come up!” he said gruffly and hung up.

I put away my mobile phone and rang the doorbell again. Immediately, it buzzed and I could finally enter the house.

I stood in front of the elevator. I didn’t like to climb stairs. That still hasn’t changed, though I had lost quite a lot of pounds over the years. As I waited for the elevator, I looked around the hallway. I saw the doors of two apartments. The spyholes made me hide further in the shadows.

“Father Michael surely would read me the riot act, if he would see me walking into a house just like that, where people could bump into me at any minute,” I thought. But I hoped the good residents worked hard during the day and now enjoyed a well-deserved evening watching TV, not noticing, that a presumed dead monster huntress was standing in front of their doors.

The elevator announced its coming with a full peal, making me jump. It wasn’t a very loud sound, but in the darkness and quiet of the hallway it was like a stroke of clock. I hurried into the elevator and pushed the button for the twelfth floor. About thirty seconds later, there was a ringing again and I got out on the top floor. Here, too, were two apartments and I thought about which one was Mister Meyers’. But then I saw one door being open invitingly. Determined, I headed for it and gently knocked. I didn’t want to burst in. That just seemed rude to me.

“Come in!” a voice urged me.

I entered the apartment and stood in a dark corridor. Only a narrow strip of light to my right showed me the way. I went up to it and came to another door. Carefully, I pushed it open. The light, that met my eyes, blinded me and I blinked. After a few moments, I got used to the brightness and looked round. The room was crammed with countless boxes. On some of them there were handwritten words, telling me what was inside of them: bathroom, living room, study. The reporter sat among the cardboard boxes. He just sealed a box with some brown adhesive tape and put the box aside.

“Oh, Miss Pearce. Long time no see,” he said and came up to me.

I held my hand out to him to greet him. For a very brief moment he looked at it, thinking about whether he should shake it or not. In the end, he refused to do so. Alrighty! Apparently, he was mad at me.

“I see you’re moving, Mister Meyers,” I said.

“What choice do I have?” he asked. “After my short movie being on the internet everybody in town knows me. I cannot walk the streets without people pointing their fingers at me, laughing. I was given the sack, Miss Pearce, and am not able to find a new job here. So, I must leave.” He looked at me fiercely, waiting for my response.

It shocked me to hear of it! I had no idea how bad it had been for him. I had never thought something like that could happen. If I had known what consequences there would be, I wouldn’t have dragged him into my plan.

“To be honest, I really don’t know what you want,” the reporter began to say and got back to packing. “You, Miss Pearce,” he pointed at me with a few books in his hands, which he then put into a cardboard box, “have been my ruin! Just because of you I lost my job and have to flee from the town like a dangerous criminal!”

Wow! That hit home. I swallowed hard and looked down in shame. I couldn’t think of anything to say, except for: “I’m sorry, Mister Meyers.”

“You should go now!” he said, interrupting me. Single-mindedly, he put more books into the boxes. The conversation was over. I was not wanted around here any longer.

Hanging my head, I left the apartment. That wasn’t how I had imagined my last meeting with him.

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