The Devil in the Angel

By: Osas Omonoyan

Prologue:

We slowly creep into the back of the store when Joe was attending to an elderly costumer that was counting her pennies to get rid of her change. The woman slowly picked up a penny from her wrinkly, small fingers and counted the bronze, circular coins one by one; wanting to pay $6.50 in pennies. It would take her a while, long enough for Florence, Lacey and I to go to the back to find the cold cellar; and to see the reason why Joe doesn't ever want us to go there.

We slowly keep creeping forward; it felt like whenever I took breath in, the whole world heard; when we took a step, it felt like we were too loud. My heart was beating against my chest, and pounding in my ears, so hard I wanted to ask if Florence, or Lacey heard; but I knew they didn't.

But what we saw made me want to scream…

Chapter 1:

"All the hot guys just have to die, don't they?" Lacey observed. Florence threw a handful of cheesy popcorn at my, large flat screen TV. I watched it fall onto the brown, comfortable carpet; adding to the mess that consisted of buttery and cheesy popcorn, empty plastic see-through bowls, small pieces of barbeque chips, and Pepsi cans from the Grocery downtown that I always had in my stainless steel fridge.

It started off as a regular day to hang out at my house; like we try to do every weekend. We usually do other things after the movies like playing a game, going to walk aimlessly around town, or to do something. It was almost noon and we were all in our baggy sweatpants and loose t-shirts; already bored of watching the movie. I switched the movie off; with one of my favourite Australian actors dead, I couldn't watch it anymore; and there was no protest.

"I'm so bored," Lacey said. Lacey and Florence are my best friends. Florence has been my friend since Kindergarten, with her fiery red hair and piercing grey eyes; and her pale skin; and Lacey has been since last year; but we've been close. She has black hair with purple streaks and tanned skin. We all survive the jungle we call our class; where there is an invisible food chain so the lions and tigers only get noticed, ignoring the others and getting tangled in themselves.

The silence rings loudly in my ears, or maybe it's the buzz of the TV; either way, I hate the silence. "Well, what should we talk about?" I ask, wanting to start some conversation.

"Um…" Lacey thinks for a moment, "You know that guy that owns that grocery store downtown, you know uh…that bald, chubby guy that always wears a bloody apron?" Lacey asks, looking at Florence for help, she gets the message and finishes for her, "Yeah, Joe." She says shrugging, "He's nice, everyone knows him."

"Yeah," Lacey stresses, "But there are also rumors that there's something fishy about him."

"What do you mean?" I ask looking at her. She looks excited, Florence looks bored as she looks at her phone; then tosses it away, probably no new messages.

"Jannie, it has to be obvious. You know the people who have gone missing? Well apparently they investigated and found out it had been by the grocery every time. Do you know what that means?" She said with mischief in her voice.

"Um, no?" I said, sounding more like a question. By now, Florence had grown a little more interest and she joined in; sitting down so we now sat in a circle. Lacey leaned in, "It means, it could be that guy that always sits at the corner of the grocery; he seems weird anyway." She says shrugging.

Florence rolls her eyes, "Maybe, it's Joe; I mean, he's nice and everyone trusts him with their lives. You know, the trusted ones are always the bad guys." She says slowly.

"The police found nothing. They searched everywhere except for the back cellar. He did not want them back there for some odd reason. But he said he was at home during the murders. They still can't find the guy." I said, adding to the conversation.

"But, let's say that he asked you to help in in the store, would you?" She asked to no one in particular. I nodded, "Exactly." She stated. I didn't catch her drift and she rolled her eyes as she continued. "It means we trust him Jannie, even if he offered us a ride home you would say yes."

Just then Lacey started talking, "Well, I found an article on it." She set her phone in the middle. We all saw it on the news; I mean there is a psycho dude out there wanting to kill just for the fun of it. The thought of it makes my stomach flip. Ever since the news, our parents are against us going out past six, and they insist that we go altogether; never alone. All our parents are constantly on business trips and the alarm system is always on. There is fear in the whole town, so much fear that you could sense it.

Parents hug their children closer to their bodies, there is a 'Keep safe' announcement on the PA system after school every day, the way people eye other people in the store or the hard, serious look everyone now wears; as if it would shield them from a gun to their head. It all makes me sick. We used to go out without a second thought, alone to the grocery store, or to the mall; but no one is trusted anymore. We still do. It's like there has been a blanket of fear and sadness blanketed over our small town.

Over the past few years, twenty children have died; both girls and boys of all ages. The thought scares me. It's not that we are a town that has a law to allow guns, we are actually well secured and well off; but they have not caught the person. I don't know how a person could get away from twenty murders without getting caught. Maybe we need better police men and women.

We live in a place called Brasker; it's like a city segregated from the map, but it really isn't. With the beautiful beaches and oceans, lakes and mountains, meadows and parks, the place basically calls your name. The land and houses are expensive but it's well worth having a nice lake in your backyard like I do.

"It does say that they were killed by the grocery but not specifically there." Lacey observes. "How about we just print a picture of the place you know; satisfy our curiosity?" I suggest. We nod and head for the basement since all the laptops in the house are charging.

X

"I feel like I'm freaking Nancy Drew." I say as we stare at the photo on the desktop computer. It was a simple picture of the older side of town. I tuck my black hair behind my ear as we look. It looks like a day in town for them; a boy rising past on his bicycle, a young girl and boy arm in arm going into the bakery, a young, cute girl hiding behind her mom as someone hands her something from the truck they are offloading that says Grocery and Fruits, but it was cut off at the side.

A woman is looking down from her sliding window at the scenery down below. Two men are talking at the side of the bakery and looking at the people passing by; everything looks so old, since it is the older part of town. Then we see a younger version of Joe. Lacey enlarges the photo and we stare at him. There is a small smile on his face and he has his signature white apron on, the one that always has some sort of blood stain on it. He is much older now; I don't know why Florence would even think it's him.

But I have bad ad feeling about all this; a feeling that says stay out of it, it's not your fight. I think we are just looking in for ourselves, nothing else.

"Nothing looks fishy here at all." Florence says. Lacey rolls her eyes, "That was a long time ago, when Joe just got the grocery, of course there won't be any activity." I was getting bored of looking at a useless photo so I suggested we go to the Grocery; since I thought we all needed some fresh air. We printed the photo and headed out into the beautiful place we call outdoors.

We walked to the grocery, taking the shortcut. The grocery was in the older part of town, but it was still lively. The area was fairly loud. There was the truck there, offloading food for the grocery; and as I looked at the scene, I realized that it looked the same as the photo that we were looking at. Thanks Google! I always wondered why he didn't order meat; he never ran out. I opened the door hearing the familiar ding! as we entered.

"Hey Joe!" Lacey called out as we made our way through the store, grabbing some Pepsis' and candy. The place is still the same from the photo; it still has the Pepsi logos' in the front by the entrance outside and it still had Coloniale Grocery in the banner too. He didn't want to change that.

The grocery is the same as always, you have your fruits, vegetables, sweets, drinks, food, junk food, and of course Pepsi. It was all put in an organized fashion. The walls are a light blue and it has a sort of glow to it. The tiles are pure white, and spotless as always. All in all, the store has a friendly vibe to it.

We put the items on the counter to pay, but Joe was too distracted by his phone. I cleared my throat.

"Oh, hey girls. I just got a text that was totally LOL!" He said, sadly attempting to be young again; then he put his Blackberry in his khakis. He scanned the items and bagged them. I wanted to ask a few questions.

"There is this person that we are wondering about." I started. He urged me to continue with his hand, still smiling. "Well, he has killed over twenty people over the last few years' right by this place. Do you have any information or anything about the person?" I finished. There was a flicker of emotion in his hazel eyes, but it quickly disappeared; leaving me to wonder if it was actually there.

He shook his bald head, his simile faltering a bit. "Nope, whoever it is better stop. The person is like crazy going around and killing people like that, you catch my drift?" the three of us nod in unison.

"But, this isn't your battle," He continues, "It's the laws; so I advise that you stay out of it for your safety. We don't need any more missing people. They will find the person; the cops are just being way too slow. Now run along girls, the day won't last forever."

Florence isn't satisfied by this, so she continues firing questions, "So, why do they keep saying it's always within meters of this place? Why is it that you don't answer these questions? Do you think the suspect is bribing the cops to keep the person hidden? Does the person even live here?" She finishes, smugly crossing her arms over her chest, her lips twisted into a smirk.

Joe shifts on his stool, looking kind of angry, "I don't know, but as I said, this isn't your battle, it's the laws." He says, a bit agitated. His answer bothers me, the way his face is twisted into some emotion bothers me, it makes my gut wrench. After a moment of silence, we grab out stuff and we head out of the grocery store, letting the cool breeze hit our face.

X

The school week drags on like months not days. I still wonder why Joe looked so mad, and I am still trying to piece together the look he had on his face when Florence fired questions at him; as if he was being interrogated. During the week, we dissect the image for some reason, pretending to take away every person and object, except for Joe and the store.

Every recess and lunch is spent in the library, looking up articles and images about the crimes. Notebooks are used until the very last page, our data plans are almost done, pencils, pens, and highlighters are thrown out after being used until the very last drop; our hands are achy and our brains are fried. Instead of think of history in history class, I think of suspects for the crime. We create our own theories and suspects. By the end of the week, I never want to look at the computer again because I think my eyes are squared; but we have a whole list of suspects.

Suspect 1: The creepy guy who is always at the corner; even in the pictures online.

Suspect 2: The creepy guy's friend.

Suspect 3: The guy who delivers Joe's supplies (Maybe stuffs the bodies in his truck)

Suspect 4: They dude everyone loves and trusts, Joe (Due to the way he answered Florence and our previous hunches)

But there is also one thing bothering me; the cold cellar. Even if you need to get one more packet of hot dogs or a turkey, he would get it for you.

A few weeks pass like this. We hang out at my house, investigate a bit and throw popcorn at the TV, well Florence does. We finally make a decision to do something that I never thought I'd do; and we think we might finally have the suspect. It is someone that we might not have thought it would be.

After emailing the police a few times for some information that would help us, they just say to stay safe like they say on the PA system every day. What we are going to do well take courage, and maybe some diapers. We don't know how it will turn out; with all our parents on a business trip, we have so much time on our hands.

Now, in present day we make our way down to the older part of town, passing a beautiful lake on the way.

"Lacey, distract Joe; if there is already a distraction, come with us." She says, she nods. "If all else fails, I will see you both in heaven." I say walking a bit faster. My hands are clammy, and I feel my insides turning.

"Oh, be optimistic, nothing will happen. We are very stealthy people." Florence says a little too happily.

I force myself to believe her.

Chapter 2:

We opened the door to the sweet smelling, air conditioned place, the complete opposite of our school. My heart starts beating at a fast rate, and Joe waves at us. It looks like he already has a distraction.

We slowly creep into the back of the store when Joe was attending to an elderly costumer that was counting her pennies to get rid of her change. The woman slowly picked up a penny from her wrinkly, small fingers and counted the bronze, circular coins one by one; wanting to pay $6.50 in pennies. It would take her a while, long enough for Florence, Lacey and I to go to the back to find the cold cellar; and to see the reason why Joe doesn't ever want us to go there.

We slowly keep creeping forward; it felt like whenever I took breath in, the whole world heard; when we took a step, it felt like we were too loud. My heart was beating against my chest, and pounding in my ears, so hard I wanted to ask if Florence, or Lacey heard; but I knew they didn't.

We saw the huge, steel door that hid what was on the other side. A million questions swam in my head. Why am I so nervous; I mean it could just be meat and stuff, maybe things he was saving for the future, but I kept in mind that we were just checking. I twisted the door handle and what I saw made me want to scream….

The sickening smell of blood hit my nose and I forced myself to open my eyes. My stomach twisted and I held back some bile in my throat. Lacey gasped and my brown eyes snapped open. All I could say about the scene is that I never forgot it until this very day.

Now I knew where he got the meat from. He was the murderer; and how did I know? I saw human body parts, lined up to be cut. The cellar was cold but I felt hot all over. Florence was already on her phone and I had to tear my eyes away. We had gotten some of our meat here, and let's just say that we have all ate some human in this town.

This wasn't a movie that I could just turn off at my will; it was life. I saw those decapitated heads and their eyes looking helpless. These were the innocent lives taken; and the murderer was just under our noses the whole time.

X

Now, after the reporters were done taking our pictures and asking us questions, I was exhausted. Apparently, we could do a better job than the cops ever will. Joe has been charged with so many things; I can't count or remember them.

Now, standing behind the yellow caution tape in front of the grocery; I still can't forget the scene. I guess I wouldn't for a long time, but by the look on Florence's face, it looked like she was about to say her signature line.

"Don't-"I started, but she cut me off, "I told you so!" she says smirking. I roll my eyes. Lacey hasn't said a word, but she smiles at the statement. It makes me want to laugh out loud how we figured out such large crimes based on a hunch and Lacey's overactive imagination.

There was a devil in that angel after all.