A Deadly Sin by T J Stone

Author:T J Stone [Podger, Tracie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Podger & Stone

“Mich, fuck’s sake, help us,” I heard.

Dean’s words had me spring into action, although my mind was whirling with scattered memories, distorted images, and confusing thoughts. I knelt beside him, pushing my hands over his already soaked ones. We tried to stem the blood, but every time Louis’ heart beat, although it had slowed, blood pumped out. His artery had been severed. Corey gave rescue breaths to keep some oxygen circulating, but all the while he bled out, it was a pointless exercise.

I could hear the sound of sirens. If Sam had been in the house when we’d arrived, he’d be long gone by then. But there was fuck all we could have done about that. Saving Louis’ life was the priority and we were failing.

“Jesus,” I heard. A paramedic had run into the room, his feet slid in the pool of blood as he came to an abrupt halt.

When he gained his composure, he pulled me away. I noticed the lack of pumping blood as soon as we released pressure on the artery to allow him to take over. We were too late. We were always too late. I sat back down on my heels, not wanting to look at the woman.

Light flooded the room as one of the officers had found the power box under the stairs and flicked the switch to on. A green velour sofa faced an open fireplace. The woman was sitting, although sitting was the wrong word, she was bolted and cable tied to a wooden chair, next to it. An old clunky TV sat in one corner, and I doubted very much it would have been able to pick up a signal. The walls were yellowed with age but I could make out a floral pattern on the paper. It was if the room had been transported out of the 1970’s.

I scanned the room; an old memory flooded my mind. We had a sofa just like that when I was a kid. In fact, the more I thought about, I remembered that I’d replaced that sofa less than a decade ago. A picture above the mantel caught my eye. I walked toward it. Again, I remembered something similar in the house when I was kid.

“This room has been set up to look like the living room in my house, when I was a kid,” I said, quietly.

“Huh?” Dean turned to look at me.

“When I was a kid, we had a sofa like that. Remember you helped me lug it from the garage? That picture? We had one similar, my mother loved it.”

“So he set this house to look likes yours? But yours is one story, this isn’t.”

“I’m not saying this house, but certainly this room.”

I watched the paramedics pack up their cases; there was no saving Louis. Blood soaked bandages were strewn over the wooden floor. Eddie had been called, and we retreated from the room while we waited for her arrival. Dean and I walked through all the rooms. Some were empty, devoid of any furniture.

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