The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 689: Witnessing the People's Suffering

Creak.

Abiloki returned home.

His mother wasn't in the living room, so he went to the foot of the stairs and called up, "Mom, give me some money!"

Hearing no reply, Abiloki figured his mother must not be home and headed upstairs.

After a quick search for his mother yielded nothing, Abiloki returned to his bedroom, retrieved some shillings he had hidden under the bed, and got ready to leave.

He had just reached the bottom of the stairs when something suddenly seized him by the throat, choking him.

A gurgling sound escaped him as his face turned crimson. He clawed at his neck, trying to grasp his unseen attacker, but his fingers found nothing, only leaving bloody scratches behind.

Thud.

A few seconds later, Abiloki collapsed. The thing choking him still hadn't released its grip. Just before he blacked out, he felt himself being dragged, his body thudding against the stairs....

Slowly, Abiloki came to.The first thing he saw was an old, filthy ceiling. He was disoriented for a few moments, then slowly, he remembered what had happened.

He instinctively reached for his neck, the sting of the scratches confirming that it hadn't been an illusion.

Confused, Abiloki looked down and saw he was covered with a rotting blanket, bits of black fluff clinging to it.

A thick layer of dust coated the floor. The wardrobe had rotted, and patches of mold splotched the walls. Everything felt at once familiar and foreign, as if the room had stood abandoned for a decade.

What is going on...

Abiloki tossed the blanket aside, and it ripped as easily as old cotton. As he started to sit up, he heard a slick, dragging sound from the hallway beyond the door. It was getting closer.

Click—

The doorknob turned, and the door slowly swung open.

A figure entered, the source of that slick, dragging sound. It moved toward Abiloki, who quickly shut his eyes and feigned sleep.

What the hell...

Terrified, Abiloki risked a glance through a barely open eye. The monster looked like a melting candle, its form only vaguely human.

In one hand, it clutched a small hammer with a rusted head. A gurgling, wet sound escaped its mouth every time it opened and closed.

It didn't seem to notice the torn blanket. It appeared to be speaking, but the sounds were incomprehensible to Abiloki.

"Gurgle... gurgle..." The monster's tone seemed to shift, taking on an emotional quality. The limb holding the rusty hammer extended toward Abiloki.

A jolt of terror shot through him. Abiloki dropped the pretense, his eyes flying open as he lashed out with his foot, kicking the monster hard.

The monster was weaker than he'd expected. It stumbled and fell, its mouth quivering as it let out a piercing shriek.

It's calling the others!

The terrifying realization hit him. Not daring to touch the creature's molten skin, he shoved the rotting wardrobe, sending it crashing down on top of the monster.

The shriek was cut short.

Abiloki's heart pounded. He crept to the door and listened. Silence. There were no other dragging sounds from the hall; the shriek hadn't alerted the others.

Quietly slipping out of the room, Abiloki crept down the decaying staircase. The living room was in the same state as the bedroom—eaten away by time and coated in a thick layer of dust.

Just what happened...

Gritting his teeth, Abiloki snatched a spear that was leaning against the fireplace.

The wood was rotted, but the tip was still sharp.

He paused at the front door, then thought better of it. He turned back, slipped out the back door into the yard, and scrambled over the wall into the alleyway.

The familiar yet strange outline of the next house belonged to his Uncle Barton. Just as he recognized it, a scream erupted from the yard.

Someone else is alive!

Abiloki went to the fence and peered through a gap into the yard.

A naked figure hung upside down from a frame. One of the wax monsters—identical to the one from the bedroom—was slitting the person's throat, the blood draining into a bucket placed beneath.

The scream dissolved into a choked gurgle, like the sound of someone drowning.

Gripping the spear, Abiloki drew back his arm and hurled it. The weapon flew true, piercing the wax monster's neck. Vile ooze spilled from the wound as the creature collapsed, lifeless.

Abiloki vaulted over the fence, yanked the spear from the monster's neck, and turned his gaze to the hanging figure.

"Uncle Barton!"

A profound shudder wracked Abiloki as he recognized the blood-soaked face.

Uncle Barton was dead. His pale, naked body swayed gently from the rope, fresh blood still dripping into the half-full bucket below.

Click.

The back door clicked open, revealing another wax monster on the threshold. It was holding an empty bucket.

"Gurgle..." it mumbled, and then its mouth began to quiver, building into another shriek.

Whoosh!

The shriek was violently cut off. The spear had buried itself in the wax monster's mouth, knocking it backward into the house.

Rage flared in Abiloki's eyes, tinged with a sliver of fear.

If Uncle Barton was killed, then Missy...

He didn't dare let himself finish the thought. Striding into the house, he planted a foot on the dead monster's body and wrenched the spear free.

After wiping the vile ooze from the spearhead, Abiloki began to search the house for Missy.

In the end, he found her in the basement... along with them.

The bodies of the townspeople, stripped and bloodied, had been tossed into the cold, damp basement. He recognized so many of them: his mother... his brother, Jils... the mayor's grandfather... Aunt Susan...

Rage flooded his mind, but it didn't strip him of his senses.

Abiloki didn't see the body of his older sister, nor that of the exorcist.

Maybe they're still alive...

The faces he'd known his whole life were now just cold corpses. Forcing himself to look away, Abiloki left the basement. He picked up the butcher's cleaver that had killed his uncle and walked out the front door.

The street was crawling with wax monsters.

Startled by the sudden appearance of a human, they all turned their heads at once, fixing Abiloki with an eerie, collective stare.

"Gurgle..."

One of the wax monsters shambled forward, gurgling something. In response, Abiloki raised the spear and threw it.

Their mouths began to quiver. The surrounding monsters shrieked and backed away.

They're afraid of me?

Abiloki suddenly realized they were weaker than he thought.

Driven by a cold, rational hatred, Abiloki hacked the head off the monster he'd just killed and held it aloft as a warning.

The other monsters seemed even more terrified. They let out grating shrieks and scrambled back.

As the monsters fell back, Abiloki advanced. He had nearly reached Aunt Susan's house when another group of them moved to block his path.

They carried bizarre, twisted weapons, and the sight of their comrade's head in Abiloki's hand sent them into a rage.

One of the wax monsters broke away from the group and rushed at him.

This one was stronger and faster. It dodged the spear Abiloki threw, then knocked him off his feet with a single swipe of its arm.

Abiloki swung the cleaver, but a hand shot out and seized his wrist. A sharp blow to the back of his head followed, and the world went black.

...

Slowly, Abiloki regained consciousness.

His vision was still blurry, the world a swimming haze. Dim, indistinct voices reached his ears.

"He attacked Mrs. Gass first while she was cooking dinner. He killed his own mother by crushing her with a wardrobe. Then he broke into Uncle Barton's house and killed him while he was butchering a pig, along with his daughter, Missy. After that, he went outside, ran into Jils, and attacked him. In front of half the town, he... he cut off his own brother's head."