There was a creaky sound with every step down the peeling, old wooden steps. These steps that once lead up to the house, never lead up to the house anymore. The grounds are locked. The house is left empty.
Despite the creaking, you feel a sense of calm in the house, like there was someone who comes here every night just to sit on the wooden steps and talk to nobody in particular. You can see the cracked paint on the boarded windows, the bits of dry grass and bark on the floor, the frosty track through the house, and for a moment, you think the place is coming alive, senses coming alive. You are almost ready to leave. Then you hear the creaking again and as you half expect the wooden hand to grab you with sharp fingers pressed against your face, you reach the front door and you are standing in the middle of a huge field with nothing but sky, trees, and a few town houses in the background.
Detective Jeffery had been waiting here for fifteen minutes already. He is dressed in a plain navy blue suit, his brown hair already becoming thin on the hairline. His face is young and tired. A cigarette is dangling from his lips. Behind him, a low-lying cloud of smoke hangs over the top of the overgrowth. A full minute's worth of rain can be seen in the distance. Detective Andrea is standing beside him, her blond hair above her face. She has a gloved hand on a small black box she is holding to her ear. "We're here."
The cameraman steps out from behind the cloud and focuses his camera to the house. The cameraman is dressed in a full black suit with a white hood and boot covers.
"We're on the eastside townhouses, detectives, beautiful view of the grassy area with a great morning sunshine. The scene here at the childhood home of the most notorious missing person in the twenty-five year history of this town, is an interesting one indeed. As we can see, the house is in its original state, with faded paint, cracked panels, and boards that have fallen. There are two cars parked in the driveway, an old blue jag and a newer model black sedan."
"This is horrible," Detective Jeffery says, his face looking at the cameraman.
"We can see a lot of evidence here."
"What did you find out?" Detective Andrea asks.
"No one has heard from Michael Fitzpatrick since December of 1996. The case has borders on the paranormal, it being the two years since he was last seen. He went to his school regularly, he only missed twice, in 1993, for cancer treatments. Horrible thing. A bright young man, young, but very bright. The town was close to him, considering the cancer and all that."
"How was the place back in 1996?"
"Nearly the same as now. The yard was well kept, we have a witness who says they spruced up the place on the day he disappeared for the filming of a television show. Just one month after that, his mother ran away from another town and never came back."
"Is that woman still alive?"
"She's in prison right now, for murdering her husband earlier this year."
"Is that true? What an idiot?" Detective Jeffery mumbles.
"Anyway, it's been five years since anyone last saw Michael. The disappearance was odd, considering the circumstances. All alone in his lofty mansion, surrounded by the town, with only a few houses separating him from everyone else, and yet nobody really saw them. Once he was gone, all his things were left in there, his mom, a single parent, didn't even take any of his things."
"Was the house just left behind?"
"Everything was left behind, same as the last time I was here. On a second thought, I believe we should go inside."
"Right now?"
"Right now. There's nothing to see, no reason to go there now. I don't know why we're here anyway. The house is sealed up, and we got the same story from the past few officers who have been here."
"Well, it's just...we'd like to see it."
"I don't know, I'm feeling it's not a good idea. It might be a bit too creepy."
"Creepy?"
"The house feels like it's been abandon for years, we can feel the air off. We don't know what's in there. The door has been locked from the outside, let's see if we can get through it from the inside. Eyes are on the wall, over."
"Right."
The cameraman looks around the lawns and slowly walks towards the front door, the police following him. The cameraman tries the handle on the door and finds it locked. He looks at the lock for a while in the light, then turns around to face the detectives on the lawn. "There's no way I can break through that lock from the outside. We're going to have to go in from the inside. This won't be a fun experience."
"What do you mean?" Detective Andrea asks.
"The last time I was here, I couldn't go in, the boards were nailed up, that same smell in the air. I don't want to go through this again."
"Tell me about that smell."
"It's an odd one."
"What can you remember?"
"I believe it felt like the house was built on an island. I remember seeing the sea and a very bright sun, like someone had parts of the sea just feasting on me."
"The sea? Like the Atlantic?" Detective Jeffery asks.
The cameraman nods slowly. "Yeah, that's it, that's it. The rising and falling of the sea, unbound. The wind, cold, like snow."
The cameraman moves towards the house again. It's wooden door has a big padlock on it. "He must have had a nice bit of cash to stick that padlock on. Not sure a homeless person would have that kind of money."
"Or a locked padlock."
"Well, what do we do?"
"I'm going to circle the house with you," Detective Jeffery says.
"You know what, that's a great idea. Maybe we can find a way inside."
"How are we going to get in?"
"It would be best if we look for another way to break in. The door's not gonna give us a way. We got to look for something to break it down."
"The same format as last time?"
"I suppose."
"You've got quite a nerve, coming back here now. Maybe we should go back."
"No, relax. I'm feeling better, actually," the cameraman says. "It's time we head in, the only way of getting in is through the main window."
The cruiser drives slowly down the road, then breaks the line outside the house. It circles around the house in full view of the cameras and slowly makes its way towards the front door once again. "I'm going to circle the house once more, for good luck," the cameraman says.
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