Death at Dawn
It is a cold, dark, and gloomy morning at the Montgomery Mansion. Surrounding the mansion, 200 acres of apple trees grew healthy and expeditiously. The town of Riverstone, a small town in Williamsburgh, five kilometers outside of the town of Ramshodow, where the Montgomery family dwelled, is known for their crime rate, which is the lowest in Williamsburgh.
Mr. Alex Montgomery rises early in the morning, earlier than usual. He glances at his alarm clock on the left side of his bed. Quietly, Alex exits his bedroom and tip-toes toward his sons' room. Hesitantly, he opens the door and finds it empty. He calls for his wife, Heather.
"Heather!" Alex yells.
"Yes dear." Heather answers wearily.
"Did Donald come home last night?" He asks feeling alarmed.
"I don't know. I fell asleep." She announces annoyed.
Angrily, Alex marches down the long, narrow staircase toward the back door of the house, leading to the thickest part of the apple orchard. He impatiently journey's into the orchard, searching for his seventeen year old son, Donald. Donald is usually on the other side of the orchard looking over the water falls. Surprisingly, Donald was not there. As Alex turned back to go back to the house, he sees a long, narrow trail of blood. Both anxious and frightened, Alex follows the trail. After a few minutes of walking through the orchard, Alex finally stumbles upon his son, dead. He hovers over his sons cold, dead body. Donald's face completely burned off. Alex notices several deep wounds on his son. On his neck, there is a long slice that never seems to end. To his surprise, Alex notices that his son does not have hands. His hands have been cut clean off. Alex remains sitting next to his deceased son, bewildered.
With legs like jelly, Alex runs home to tell his wife the awful news. When he emerges from the orchard, he feels a sudden chill down his spine. A haunting presence engulfs Alex as soon as he reaches for the doorknob to the back door. Slowly, he steps away from the door and runs around the mansion, toward the front door. With a burst of energy, Alex smashes through the front door, breaking down his screen door. To his surprise, Heather is dressed and is also making breakfast. The sweet smell of crispy beacon, homemade pancakes, and orange juice could not adjust his broken heart. He slowly proceeds toward her.
"Did you find him?" She asks.
"Yes." Alex answers.
"Where is he?" Heather asks, worried.
Nearly crying, Alex takes Heather's hand into his and begins to tremble. He holds her hand and leads her to the dining room table and seats her to the nearest chair.
"He's dead." Alex answers sadly.
Heather remains in her seat stunned. With tears in her eyes, she rises from her chair and proceeds to the oven. She quickly removes the pan of pancakes from the burner and places her hand on the high temperature burner.
"What are you doing?" Alex rushes toward his wife and removes her hand from the burner. He examines her red hand. Heather does not answer. He pulls her into his chest and embraces her.
"We should call the police." Alex says calmly with tears streaming down his cheek like water in a narrow river. Heather nods in agreement and gives her husband one last squeeze before finally letting go. As Alex calls the authorities, Heather sits down and ponders about the news she was just given. Within minutes, several tall police officers arrive at the Montgomery mansion along with Detective Polehouse, the best detective in Ramshadow. After hours of questioning, the police officers retreat to the station to find clues about the murder. Detective Polehouse approaches Alex and Heather.
"Mr. Montgomery, Do you know who did this to your son?" Detective Polehouse asks.
"No." Alex responds.
The detective begins writing a series of notes in his notepad. He sighs, than turns to exit the mansion.
"Where are you going?" Alex asks confused.
"I'm going to take another look at the body." Polehouse answers.
The detective slowly walks toward the body. After several minutes, he finally reaches the body. He examines the boy's face carefully then writes "acetic acid" in his note book. As he emerges from the orchard, he communicates to the Montgomery's that acetic acid was used to burn off Donald's face. Alex and Heather both step back in astonishment.
"Whoever did this will probably have a burn on their arm or fingers." Says detective Polehouse.
Relieved, Alex and Heather close their eyes and let out a short but comforting sigh. As the detective turns to depart, he receives a phone call. While he struggles to get into his 1998, gold Pontiac Sunfire, the detective waves goodbye to Alex and Heather.
A few months later, detective Polehouse observes Alex Montgomery at the Corner Convenience Store.
"Alex Montgomery, right?" The detective asks.
"That's me. Let me guess, you're Detective Polehouse." Alex answers.
"That's right." Detective Polehouse announced.
They both stand in the middle of the candy aisle discussing the case of Alex's dead son.
"So, I guess you guys are pretty close to finding who did it." Alex says anxiously.
"Actually, he's closer than we think." The detective answers. He gives Alex a dark, mysterious grin.
"I have to get going. Have a good night Alex."
Suddenly, Alex feels a chill down his spine. He brushes it off and goes to the cashier to pay for his candy and milk. He begins his walk home. Alex decides to take the faster way home; he decides to turn left on Herest St. and continues straight until he sees the orchards located behind his home. After a while, he feels like he is being followed. He quickly runs into the orchards and finally begins to slow down. A hand suddenly appears from behind a tree. With a great amount of force, it grabs Alex by the collar of his shirt. Alex falls and hits his head directly on a rock. Blood begins to flow and trickles onto the cold ground. He looks up and sees a familiar face, detective Polehouse. Alex tries to speak but the only thing that leaves his mouth is a pool of dark, warm blood.
"Shhhhh!" Demands Polehouse.
He opens the right side of his long, black coat to reveal a small jar of clear liquid. Polehouse quickly scratches his arm. Before he can put hi sleeve down, Alex sees a glimpse of the detectives flesh, burnt. Alex manages to mutter a single word.
The detective gives him a wide grin. He goes into a different pocket of his coat and retrieves a large Swiss Army knife. Before Polehouse places the knife onto Alex's flesh, Alex mutters his last word.
"Good Question." Polehouse says. "I am in love with your wife. She has been having an affair with you for three years."
Alex gives detective Polehouse a confused look as if to say, "No, it can't be!" As if he read Alex's mind, he answers:
"I know, it sucks right? The funny thing is that she helped me kill your son and she's helping me kill you! Isn't that funny."
Alex, feeling both physical and emotional pain, begins to cry. He feels a quick, but painful, feeling on both of his wrists. Then, he realizes that his hands have been cut off and sees Polehouse putting them in a large, black bag. Suddenly, he feels a cold, sharp piece of metal on his throat. He begins to cry even harder, causing him more pain. As his life, in the form of thin, red liquid emerges from his wrists, he looks into the detective's eyes as if to beg for him to spare his life. Polehouse looks back at him and gives him another cold, mysterious smile.
"I don't think so."
Alex then feels a sudden pain in his throat. He feels his warm blood flowing down his neck. The pain however is not yet over. The detective pours all of the content from the jar, acetic acid, onto his face. As Alex feels both pain and pleasure of the feeling of the acid eating away at his skin, he takes his final breath and slowly drifts from life on earth.