The sepulchral silence that had reigned in the surveillance room was brutally murdered by a voice coming from the console radio.
"Lieutenant...? Lieutenant Thompson? Situation report. Do we need to send the tactical team? Over."
The dispatcher's voice acted like a defibrillator for Donald and he reached a hand toward the microphone, but upon trying to respond, he felt his throat as dry as if it were full of sand.
His mind blocked at the impossibility of what he had just seen.
What the hell was he supposed to say!?
Could he report that a demonic entity that had been skinning teenagers in their dreams was dragged into reality through an adrenaline injection, to then be pulverized by punches by a minor until turned into ashes?
If he uttered that, he would not finish his shift at his desk, he would finish in a straitjacket in the psych ward.
…
Inside the isolation cell, calm had returned.
Lief dusted off his hands with indifference, wiping off imaginary dust, and turned toward Nancy, who continued with a lost gaze where Freddy had disappeared.
"Your hand," he said pointing at the wound. "Needs immediate attention. The adrenaline is coming down and it is going to hurt in three, two, one..."
Nancy lowered her head toward the four bleeding holes and the pulsating pain hit her full on, making her hiss while she held her wrist. Lief, without wasting time, raised his gaze toward the one way mirror, knowing perfectly well who was on the other side.
"Lieutenant," he said. "Ready. I think it is safe to call the paramedics now. And, please... do not forget our confidentiality agreement."
Donald took a deep breath to regain his composure and pressed the button on the walkie talkie. "Thompson here. Situation controlled. Lift the lockdown of Area C immediately and send a medical team to Cell 3 to treat lacerations. Now!"
He released the button and turned toward his men, who continued watching the screen terrified.
"Listen to me well," he growled regaining his authority. "What has happened tonight... never happened. No one saw or heard anything. If anyone leaks a single word, I will personally make sure that you hand in your badge and your gun before the sun comes up. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" they responded in unison, pale but loyal.
Donald pushed the door and ran down the hallway, followed by two officers.
Upon arriving at the reinforced door of the cell, he shoved it open.
A blast of hot air and burnt flesh hit him full on, while his eyes swept the room instantly: the pile of black ashes as the only trace of the evil, the calm of Lief and Airam and, finally, his daughter.
"Nancy!"
With a shout, he ran toward the bed and wrapped his daughter in a desperate hug.
"Dad... it's over," sobbed Nancy, collapsing against her father's chest. "It is really over."
"I know, honey. I know…"
The moment broke with the sound of boots and wheels.
The paramedic team burst into the cell with a gurney, pushing the police officers aside
They began to work on Nancy immediately.
"Good God..." murmured a young nurse upon seeing the four deep holes in the girl's hand. "Lieutenant, this does not look like a normal wound. They are perfect punctures... What kind of weapon caused this? It looks like..."
"Barbed wire," interrupted Donald with a sharp voice, staring her fixedly in the eyes. "Write that in the report."
"?"
The nurse blinked, looking at the wound and then at the lieutenant.
She knew it was a lie.
Everyone in the room knew it was a lie. But upon seeing Donald's stony expression and the complicit silence of the other officers, she understood that it was not a question.
"Understood," she said lowering her gaze. "Laceration by wire…"
Lief stepped away deliberately from the emotional scene between father and daughter. He was not insensitive, simply pragmatic. He walked until positioning himself next to Airam and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back.
"Mission accomplished," he said lowering his arms. "If I am being honest with you... he was much weaker than I imagined."
Airam nodded, looking at the pile of ashes with a critical grimace.
"He depended too much on the advantage of the terrain."
Donald finished giving instructions to the paramedics to take Nancy to the hospital for a complete checkup and then he turned around.
He walked toward Lief, with a complex expression of emotions: gratitude, amazement and a pinch of visceral fear that he could not hide completely.
"I..." he cleared his throat, searching for the right words and failing. "I do not know what to say. I do not know how to thank you for what you have done for my daughter. For all of us."
"You are welcome. We are professionals, Lieutenant. It is what we do," responded Lief, downplaying it with a gesture of the hand. Then, his tone changed subtly. "However... regarding our fees..."
Donald understood immediately.
"Of course," he said hurriedly, lowering his voice. "I have access to a discretionary fund for... external consultants and special operating expenses. I will request the highest bonus possible..."
He paused and extended his hand.
"And I want you to know that the town will always be in debt to you. If you need anything, whatever it is, you just have to call."
Lief shook his hand with firmness.
"I like how that sounds," he nodded with satisfaction. "Then, if there are no more formalities, we are leaving. It has been a long night and we are dying of hunger."
Without further ceremony, he signaled to Airam and under the reverent gazes of the entire police department, both walked out calmly from the station.
The streets at four in the morning were a desert under the yellowish light of the streetlamps.
They walked a couple of blocks in a comfortable silence until Airam, with her hands behind her back and her gaze on the stars, broke it, "We are leaving just like that, without more? I thought you would stay to explain the general vision of the world to him."
"It is not necessary." Lief put his hands in his pockets. "He is a good cop, but a man of logic. He only needs to know that there exist threats that he cannot handle and people like us to take care of them. Leaving him his perception of reality is an act of mercy; if he knew the full truth, he would not sleep again."
They turned a corner and the unmistakable smell of grilled meat hit them.
A food truck, a retro style food truck with blinking lights that announced being open 24 hours, appeared before their eyes like an oasis in the desert.
Inside, a chubby cook with an apron was yawning, cleaning the griddle with reluctance.
Lief approached the window, "Boss, save our lives," he asked. "Two double cheeseburgers, extra bacon. Two large portions of fries and two giant cola sodas. No ice."
The owner looked up, happy to see customers.
"Coming right up!"
Very soon, the steaming food was ready on cardboard trays. Lief and Airam found a bench on the side of the road, under the light of a streetlamp. They sat down and began to devour their midnight dinner.
"By the way... did you keep the souvenir?" asked Airam with her mouth half full.
"Uh-huh."
Lief took out the glove magically and let it rest on the bench, and under the light of the streetlamp, the four steel blades shone with a sinister glow.
"It is an interesting piece," he commented taking a bite of his burger. "It stinks of fear and hate. Technically, it qualifies as a high level cursed object. Although, being honest, for me it is nothing more than a paperweight."
They finished dinner just when the sky on the horizon was beginning to be tinged with a pale gray. The dawn was breaking.
Lief wiped his hands with a napkin and stood up, stretching his legs.
"Let's go. Let's look for a place to crash for a while," he said. "Tomorrow... or well, later today, we can take a walk around the town. After taking care of a minor plague, I think we deserve to enjoy ourselves a little."
They found a room in the only motel in town. It was the typical stopover place: a room not very big, with floral wallpaper, but at least the sheets seemed clean.
However, neither of the two went to sleep immediately.
Lief sat on the bed, taking out a rag to clean the stains from Freddy's glove. Airam, for her part, remained standing next to the window, pulling back the curtain slightly to observe how the town began to wake up.
Springwood. Elm Street.
After the chaos of the night, the place seemed to have recovered its mask of normality.
The light of the morning sun filtered through the branches, casting shadows on the asphalt. The morning runners jogged past, and a boy on a bicycle threw newspapers onto the porches with good aim.
Everything seemed obscenely peaceful.
"I just took a deep look through the mirror," said Airam without taking her eyes off the street. "This place is a hotbed, Lief. There is much more out there... latent resentment, repressed madness and some things... that definitely are not human."
Lief stopped his hand over the metal and raised his head with interest: "Oh, yeah? Sounds like we still have many places left for our dates."
"You could say that," Airam turned to lean her back against the windowsill, crossing her ankles with a knowing smile, "Although, if you think about it well... for someone like you, you just found the ultimate playground."
A predatory smile slowly formed on Lief's face, "Now that you mention it... I think I am going to like this neighborhood."
________
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