Part 1

I knew I had to meet with Ethan. My first shift back I held myself out and headed to the jail. Luckily, one of my old academy mates was working the cells that night.

“Sheriff Edwards. Long time no see,” I said sarcastically.

“Officer Wharton. Had it been a whole two days already?” He smirked.

“I’m actually here to follow up on a murder case. Ethan XX. Can you find us a room to chat in?”

He took a shallow breath and glanced to the side. “Man. We’re kind of busy tonight. Full moon, you know how that shit goes. Only room we have doesn’t have the fancy recording cameras and audio. Just normal surveillance.”

“Perfect,” I said- and I meant it.

Ethan shuffled into the room and sat down as the sheriffs secured his wrists to the table. He looked frail. He looked… absent.

Once we were alone I asked, “What did you mean about Hallowell?”

He slowly lifted his head, gaze meeting my own. “You were right.”

“Right about what?” I asked.

He shook his head, almost in confusion. “There has to be a glitch. I don’t understand.” His voice grew shaky.

“Take a deep breath,” I said.

He inhaled.

“Start from the beginning. I’m listening.”

He released his breath and said, “I was in the kitchen and suddenly I had the most intense déjà vu I’ve ever had. I was cutting an orange to make an Old Fashioned and the instant I smelled the orange it all hit me. Not only did I feel like I already lived this, but I was absolutely sure someone was about to break into my kitchen to kill me.”

His hands shook. I knew he was craving a cigarette. Not that he was a smoker, per se, but smoked when he wanted to. And boy, did he want to.

He continues, “I grabbed that knife like my life depended on it and no sooner did I hear that sliding door creak open.”

“Was it Lauren?” I asked.

“No. I mean, yes. I don’t fucking know. It was faceless. I just knew my life was in danger. Dude, I fucking KNEW it! I took the knife and stabbed them. It. Whatever it was.”

I tried my best to follow but he wasn’t making much sense. “Ethan, are you saying that you thought Lauren was an intruder?”

“Yeah, I guess. But then suddenly, I could see her. It was Lauren. As soon as I saw her face, I tried to hold her. But then she ran toward the stairs and when she turned around, it… it wasn’t her anymore.” Ethan bent down so his cuffed hands could rub his eyes. “It was a glitch. There’s no other way to describe it.”

“Where is Lauren now?” I asked.

He shook his head and his eyes widened. “I don’t know. God’s honest truth. She was in front of me, and then she just… vanished.”

This wasn’t the Ethan I knew. He sounded so, unreliable. He lost all confidence. “How many drinks did you have before this happened?”

“One. And you know one doesn’t do shit to me, Nick.”

He was right. I knew one Old Fashioned wouldn’t even phase him. “Alright. Well, is there anything else you had? Anything we’re missing here?”

His eyes finally locked with mine. “I don’t know shit anymore. I’ve lost total concept of reality. I don’t even know if you’re you right now.”

Is he having a mental breakdown?

I didn’t know what to think about my meeting with Ethan. Sure, some questions were answered, but so many new ones were raised.

All I could do now was look at the evidence. The blood samples and fingerprints would take a while to get back to us. The labs are so backed up, and it’s been that way for as long as anyone can remember.

Next, I decided to look into the crime scene. Even though the “Matilda House” has always been a fascination of mine, I never had access to police records until working here. I wondered if there could have been a string of braking around the neighborhood, or a history at the house.

What I found next was.. unsettling. Sure, there was a break in through the kitchen door before. Hell, it was even the exact same minute of the day. But here’s the thing- it happened 7 years ago. The previous owners who had the house had someone break in and attacked the husband who was standing in the kitchen. The wife was out of town at the time. I was shocked I hadn’t heard of this, being such a small town, but it turned out the intruder was an estranged son in law and luckily nobody died. But only because the owner was able to subdue the attacker, his son in law, by restraining him until police arrived. There was one news article at the time which even said that he must have had a guardian angel on his side that night since his son in law had a gun in his possession and every intention of using it, but the owner had such a hold on him that he couldn’t reach it.

I pulled out my old essay yet again to look for anything else that could have made Ethan latch onto. There it was, toward the end:

But sometimes our déjà vu moments can be echos. Echos of history, echos of energy, or even echos of vibration. Energy can be neither created nor destroyed, so where does it go? It’s in a loop. And sometimes, those loops crinkle like a garden hose.

I was still wrapping my head around my own words, as if written by an entirely different person, when my phone buzzed.

Call me.

It was Ethan’s mom. I immediately called her and all she could say was, “She’s here.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Lauren.”

I imagined her body, decomposing in their yard, or perhaps their basement. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering- did she smell? Where was her body? Why are you calling now?

But then I heard the faintest little thing say, “Nick?” It was Lauren, alive.

Jesus Christ. Whose blood is in that house?

Part 3