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Darkness Reveals – Instalment Thirteen – You Are A Death Risk, Part 9

You Are A Death Risk, Part 9

By BD Scott

Dremond made a deal with the Chief of Police to visit his mother and to investigate the alleged murderous female residents in the same apartment building.


Dremond managed to trudge through the mad crowd gathering outside the Police station, dodging questions and demands, to which he said the Chief was still gathering the final tally of those dead from the deadly accident in town.

That’s all he said and he nearly regretted it, being nearly assaulted by angry partially blind elderly men and their  wagging walking sticks. Dremond firmly pushed his way through and walked into town and found a back entrance to the building where the Chief’s mother lived. And where the alleged murderous women resided.



“Ma’am, I’m here to see that you’re alright. Chief Pete sends me, ” Dremond offered with a hearty knock on apartment 302.

“Who? Pete? Come in, son.”

Dremond didn’t want to scream aloud again. He opened the door and slowly walked in, peering around the corner of the small hallway wall and into the living room area.

“Ma’am, I’m Dremond, friend of Officer Pete. He’s asked me to check on you.”


“No ma’am, Dree-mond. Your son is the Chief of Police.”

“Get in here!”

Dremond slithered around the old woman’s place with a slow walking cadence, being careful not to bump any furniture or move something out of place. Once he saw her in her wheelchair in a far corner of the living room, he rose a hand to greet her and half-smiled.

“You’re not Pete.”

“My name is Dremond, ma’am. Pete asked me to come by to check on you. Since your son, er, step son isn’t here.”

“You know about him? Where is he? He’s late in giving me my soup. He gives me soup. Where’s my soup?”

“Ma’am, I didn’t come with soup.”

“Freddie? Where’s my Freddie? I want Freddie!”

“Ma’am, I haven’t any idea…”

“Freddie! Help yer momma! Get this intruder outta here!”

Several books and trinkets flew in the air straight at Dremond, who ducked and dodged the assault from this feeble old woman buckled up in a wheelchair. He pushed his way toward her and could smell the unforgiving  thick smell of shit and urine. This woman needed care, and in a hurry.

“Ma’am, I can help you until he returns. Pete sent me.”

Several more pamphlets and pieces of mail flew at him, fluttering to his feet. Her smell was getting worse as he approached.

“I hear that banging. It’s getting closer to me. It’s you doing that from down the hall isn’t it? You’re here to beat up an old woman! Rape! Rape!”

Dremond scooted backwards, falling over a side table and a small padded chair, hitting his head against the wall.

“Get out! Get out! Freddie, come save your mommmma!”

Dremond scrambled to his feet to escape this strange situation on the quick. He reached for the door at the same moment an ominous thud echoed from down the hall, vibrating the the door of 302.


To Be Continued


BD Scott, Author, Producer of & Founder of Friedrich Imagines, Ltd. a media production company