Who Is The Killer? : Part 2

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Robert:

The car screeched to a halt in the driveway of my house. I stepped out of the car, and beckoned the driver to get the bags inside. I took a deep breath, realizing how much I had missed the smell of the roses blooming in my garden. I walked into the courtyard, slightly startled by the deafening silence instead of the constant chatter of parrots and humming of bees.

To my surprise, the door that led to the hallway was wide open. This was unexpected, because Janet was a very sensible woman, especially when the matter was related to her safety. I swiftly walked towards the door, and stepped into the hall, after two whole years. Contrary to the peaceful silence that I had initially expected, I could hear murmurs. They seemed to be coming from the gallery adjacent to the hall.

I was confused. Or rather, I was annoyed. All the unusual incidents since the past few hours, beginning with that weird dream, were beginning to get on my nerves. All I wanted now was something normal, something a little less unusual. After that pause of confusion, I decided to go to the gallery and find out what the murmurs were all about.

The gallery had something worse in store for me. Around fifteen people stood there in a circle, murmuring softly and sighing occasionally. I couldn’t really recognize most of them, until I saw my next door neighbor, Mr. Johnson. His wife was standing right beside him, and it seemed as though she had been weeping and he was trying to console her.

Alright, at that point of time, I was pretty sure that something was definitely wrong. Not being able to recognize anyone else in the crowd, I walked up to Mr. Johnson and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Johnson?”

He turned back, and seemed shocked to see me.

“Hey, Rob! I was just…”

Saying so, he turned quiet. Very unexpectedly, he pulled me into a hug and said,

“I’m sorry for you buddy. I really am.”

Those words drove me crazy. What on earth was even going on! Before I could ask Mr. Johnson anything else, the whole room was filled with sobs of a familiar voice.

When I turned to the entrance of the gallery to see that person, I was very sure that something deadly was about to unfold.

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