Thread: You Need Me [Leon x Emily]

The day had been long and the hours seemed never ending, one minute dragging on to the next. He had every intention of trying to get off earlier today in order to have some alone time with his wife. Lewis didn't hate his job, it was just that it was a job, something that he once had a passion for but at this point, it was to keep food on the table and afford the better things, for his wife and hopefully, in the future, his own child. These were all things that he wanted for himself and if that meant that he needed to buckle down and get the job done, then he wasn't about to complain out loud, a bit of whisky would take the edge off and he would just be able to relax. He let the car door close as he would pull down on the neck of his tie, finally feeling that he could breath. He came to the door and went to turn it but found it locked. She usually never locked the door when she was home. It was a bit of an annoyance now as he had to dig around for his keys to unlock the door, now of all times. The door would open as he would take off his jacket, throwing it on the back of the couch, tossing the keys on a nearby stand by the door. The lights were off and there was just something...wrong. He would stare around, as if trying to find something, anything to tell him otherwise. Honey? Are you there? He would take a few steps, looking at any place she would be. Something was wrong. Not on the couch, not the recliner, the kitchen was just as empty and he would have heard her if she was outside. The only place she could be at this point was the bedroom. Honey... you okay? Still, no reply. She was usually never this quiet, maybe she had gone out. His hand would come to the bedroom door handle. The door always was a bit ajar, closing of its own accord with the tilt of the houses foundation. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Everything in him told him that. His hand didn't want to open the door but he forced it too. Something was wrong. Lewis would push it open, once more he called. Honey... As the door opened, he saw a small bit of blood at the front of the door. Wrong. The smell of iron came to his nose, full and thick. He would reach over, letting his fingers find the light switch and flicking it on. It was wrong. The gruesome scene that was spread out over the bed, his body froze, his mind shutting off as if a moment would cause the entire scene to return to a normal woman, laying there waiting for him to take her. But it didn't happen. Her eyes locked in fearful shock, piercing his own in that lifeless manner. He would take a step forward, and then another. As he reached the baseboard of the bed, his feet were slick in the blood, her blood. His mouth would open but no words would come from them, his eyes becoming moist with tears but they never fell. He would crawl into the bed, his hands trying to touch her but every time they came close, he knew that if he touched her and she wouldn't react and it would become real. He continued to look her body over, wanting nothing to do with the sadistic nature in which the lines that were created on her flesh. His hand would finally make it to the side of her cheek. She wasn't even fully cold yet, it pushed him over the edge. A light noise broke through his lips, almost a whimper. Then, another, slightly louder but the next, was a scream of frustration. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to him. Not to her. His arms would wrap around his lifeless love, pulling her to his chest, the blood soaking through his shirt, he could feel it against his chest now. He would stroke her hair as a tear began to roll down a cheek. The creak of the door would be like a call from the pitch black hole he was falling into. His head would pull itself from her own to turn as the door would slowly close as it had done night and night before but this time, it was his torment that was locking him in. ' You'll thank me someday '. Written on a mirror that showed the blood stained man holding his dead love. A nightmare made real. The door would snap close and Lewis would stand there in front of another door, hand on the handle. Something was wrong. He had associated the feeling now. It gave him purpose instead of fear. It was his own to command. It was his fire that he would use to burn the world down in order to find this monster. He would turn the handle to come upon another crime scene.