The Murder Of Willowstream

Ch.04. Mr Santana

Word had quickly spread of Yasmine's murder throughout the town. "Beloved Student Found Murdered In High School Boiler Room". It was painful to hear, to speak what was ever present in their solitary thoughts aloud. As if being physically reminded of what they had lost ripped what last shred of doubt they allowed themselves to forcibly cling on to. It made the journey to Alaric's house a clenched fist rush while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, as they dodged and ducked away from gossiping bystanders as if under bullet fire, all to avoid just hearing about it.

The Santana manor sat a little ways out of town on it's outskirts. Where the paved roads gave way to poorly maintained, gravel tracks that were slowly being over grown by black weeds and the serpentine roots of neighbouring trees. It was a simple enough journey for one that doesn't necessarily require a vehicle to get places quickly. But for everyone else it was at least half an hour by car from the town centre.

Luckily, Lilly had such a vehicle having recently been given a provisional license, and with the unbounded confidence of a staggering three lessons under her belt, she was more than ready to ferry Alice and Alaric to the Santana abode.

The car itself was a small, beaten, little thing. Gifted from her mother who had saved all year from what she could skim off the profits of the towns bakery; it looked as if it could be third, maybe even, fourth hand. It's once electric blue paint was faded and scratched, although the metal still glittered sleekly from Lilly's tireless care. The doors squeaked in loud protest when they were opened, and required being closed twice before staying put.

Alaric questioned whether the beat up old machine was road legal. To which Lilly would proclaim that "Bertie" was not just any car. She had personality.

Soon they found themselves carefully spluttering down the gravel paths, the main road now swallowed from view by a swathe of thickened trees that grew thinner the deeper they went. Bertie would jump over fattened tree roots that had no business being as thick as they were, and carry on crunching the gravel beneath her wheels.

The trees grew thinner. Sparse. Gnarled and lifeless as they twisted their bony appendages to the clear midnight sky, and casting their grasping shadows to tap gently against the hub of the car. But soon the manor house came into view.

Thankfully, to Bertie's integrity, a much better maintained driveway lead up to the black iron gates of Santana Manor. Trailed on either side by immaculately kept rose bushes that even in the grip of the chilly, dark, air still bloomed vigorously as if the sun were still shining. The leaves and stems looked black, and the thorns viciously glittering like salivating teeth, as they reflected the moons light.

The manor itself was tall and daunting. Archaic and grotesque gargoyles sat on their haunches at the top. Leering down with their intimidating visages of stone. There was naught a single light in the buildings' three storeys, that signalled the presence of home. Save for one to the left of the large, oak, front door. It was a yellow light, with the warming undertones of orange, flickering as if by fire or candle.

The girls, or rather the entire group, had only been to Alaric's home once in the entire lifetime of their friendship. They stayed for a little more than a few hours, before it was agreed that it was better to hang out else where. Or at least: less dangerous.

"I think I'll stay in the car... Keep her warmed up, ya know?" Lilly said with an uneasy grin.

"You want to stay out here? Alone?" Alaric questioned as he unfolded himself from the cramped back seat and scooted out of the vehicle as Alice slid the front seat forward.

As if adding a fullstop to his question, there was the unmistakable howl of a wolf calling from within the forest. Causing Lilly to grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Alaric raised an eyebrow with a smirk, as if the howl had proved his point.