Nothing, Nothing, Nothing, Then...

“What are we still doing here?” Jared asked, dropping his head into his hands wearily over the journal. I glanced at him over my coffee cup. I couldn’t answer him. We’d been in town for three days, and we still hadn’t found anything concrete.

There had been a total of four suicides, each exactly three days apart. The last one had happened while we were driving. There were no connections between them. Three men and a woman, two married and two single, a lawyer, a student, a mother, and a mini mart cashier, and ranging between 17 and 56 years old. There were no signs of demonic activity, or any other kind of paranormal activity.

But we still stayed. Jensen didn’t want to leave yet, and I couldn’t understand why. If there wasn’t anything to hunt here we should leave.

“We’re here because there’s going to be another suicide tonight,” Jensen said, not looking away from the window. I glanced at him. He was right, of course. Since we hadn’t found anything, there would most likely be another death tonight. It had been three days since the last one. If we didn’t find something and stop it, someone else would die.

It was a sobering thought.

Jared groaned, and began pouring through the journal again. He had been searching it and the local newspapers the entire time we’d been here. He hadn’t found anything yet, and he was starting to get discouraged.

“Come on,” Jensen said, leaning forward and finally looking away from the passer-bys through the window. “We’ll work extra hard to day, waste this son of a—“ he glanced at me and hesitated. “Then we’ll be gone.”

I nodded. I couldn’t argue with his reasoning. I would have argued if he’d sworn, like he was getting ready too; I got the intolerance for swearing from Cassandra.

I felt a wave of sadness sweep across me as I thought of Cassandra. She should be the one here glaring at Jensen to stop swearing, not me.

I took another sip of coffee so hot it burned my tongue, grateful that the pain pulled me free of the melancholy. I needed a clear head if we were going to find this thing before it killed again.

Jared huffed, then ‘huh’ed, and began flipping one page back and forth, reading quickly. I glanced at him. He read for another moment, then stood abruptly, gathering the book and the newspaper up.

“Were are you going?” I asked, setting the coffee aside. Jared glanced at me as he moved to leave the little coffee shop. He frowned for a minute, thinking, then shook his head.

“I’m not sure, but I have an idea,” he said. Then before Jensen or I could follow him he was out the door and striding quickly down the sidewalk. I looked at Jensen, but he didn’t seem to care, again. It was as if he was leaving all the leg work for Jared and me, while waiting for the actual beatdown to happen. Either that, or he just didn’t care whether we found the thing or not.

I hoped it wasn’t the latter.

The End

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