When No One's Watching - Chapter One

Chapter 1

Invisible Rain

"Here it comes." The man thought as the first raindrop hit the edge of his nose, carving out his form in the light. He looked quickly, searching for an overhanging, anywhere to get out of sight. The irony made him scoff even in his haste for cover. No longer able to carry a watch, he looked to the sun to find it already falling down against the backdrop of the city. Why he came to this street he did not know, maybe it was because they would not find him here. "Damn it." He watched a parted curtain reveal an elderly woman stroking her cat, her face puzzled, her eyes glancing around him undoubtedly seeing the drops that pelted off of his body. "A cat lady. Shouldn’t every neighborhood have them?" He was not worried, some old woman with a vision problem could not draw attention to this part of town, and such a country place it was. "Grass, cows, and more grass. How did I end up here? I’m back at home." His lips twitched with agony, he scratched at his face knowing that he would not get any sleep tonight, the flashes were getting worse. "How much longer can I keep this up until they finally find me?" He rubbed at his eyes, the swelling already beginning to take a toll. It was barley luck that saved him from the last sighting. They had come for him seconds after the woman screamed into her cell phone. "How the hell did they get there so fast?" He kept the thoughts going, covering the pain coming in short bursts. "Damn technology, if it wasn’t for it I wouldn’t be here now." Of course, that wasn’t completely true. He couldn’t blame his problems on something else when he knew in his mind it was his sins that brought him to this. The doctors called it childhood trauma, but he knew what it really was. The same evil streak that had cursed his father and his father, only he had never used it until a year ago, which brings him here, to a neighborhood of cows and rain with no place to hide your secrets. He heard the springs on a screen door creek open, a sound he had come to recognize since childhood. A teenager stepped out, her more than modern clothes looking strange against the country hills spilling into the city. "She’s a cutie, this might be interesting." He smirked remembering the other homes he silently invaded, living off the families’ belongings and watching them blame each other when something went missing. He did not love listening to what people really thought, and knowing what they did when they thought they were alone. It truly disgusted him, but only made him regret more what he truly felt. He passed in the shadows of the light, cast by trailer houses’ forms. He couldn’t be seen by the young woman, for he now believed he had found his next hide away. He watched for an opening, any sign that might make her distracted and give him a chance to run for the door. Once that chance actually came, he passed it by; he was drawn to the young woman leaning on the railing. Her face flushed with anger, welting scratch marks leading from her forehead down along her neck, agony flourished all over her form, twisting and groaning with hate. Her black hair pushed back into a ponytail, hanging in front of her eyes disheveled, contrasting with the pale skin that accented her thin face. Her eyes moistened with tears, their blue haze shining against the shadows. She clung to her arms, covered by a massive black hooded sweater. Her legs switched from one to the other, their length and slender shape heightened by her skin-hugging blue jeans. He took a breath, realizing he had been holding it waiting for the perfect moment to dodge for the door. He gazed to the ground, seeing the prints he made in the wet grass. Here he was, naked against the dark, analyzing a woman that could not do the same for him. He could not even remember what he had once looked like, if he ever had features at all. Had he changed any since that year? Had his face paled and thinned, and had his eyes dimmed into the dark? How he wished the young woman could look over him as he could look over her. Such a wish is impossible, but then again, aren’t they all? He exhaled loudly, now noticing that he had held his breath even after remembering to inhale before. He backed farther into the shadows, the young woman’s eyes now drawn to edge of the house. She stared, fixated on the spot he once stood. "The hell she saw me. Don’t be such a dumb ass Keller. God, I hope I don’t have to do her in like the chick with the cell phone." It would be a sin to say that he did not enjoy the taste of killing, another curse that had taken him into the army, a place where it was legal for him to express his desire and peculiar talents. It was not his fault the woman with the cell phone would not stop screaming, he had repeatedly told her to "Shut up". "It’s amazing what people do, even when they are in danger." His eyes closed as much as they could, still swelling even though their size had grown tremendously in the last few seconds. He willed his breath to silence, hoping the teenager would not think to look around the corner and feel a body that she could not see. He could not afford another strange murder on his record; they would surly catch him then. He could here her feet crunch the grass, long dry from little rainfall, how lucky he was that God let it rain the one-day he didn’t want it. And then a voice came from the house, harsh and screaming though it was, it sounded like a chorus from heaven. "CHARLIE! Get your ass in here now! We’re not done young lady." He heard the sigh of the young woman known as "Charlie", her footsteps receding, and then the silent close of the door killing all chances of him getting in undetected now. Nonetheless, he still sighed with relief. The voice continued, yelling within the home with a heartless demeanor. The man chuckled to himself, "My savior." He blew a kiss to the crabby woman he pictured sitting on a sofa scolding the young woman that had stolen his attention just a moment ago. The rain had turned into just droplets now, not enough to show the form of a man running across a yard. Past his better judgment he continued around the house, searching for an undetectable way in. He knew it would be better to just search for another home, another place where a few creaks and groans would surly go unnoticed. But something kept him here, he would not admit, even to himself that it was that girl, that "Charlie" that had captivated his attention so very easily before. And he was a soldier for Christ’s sake, how could he have let that happen. "Damn it man. All this moving around is making you soft." His face twisted once again, the pain coursing through his veins, forcing a groan from his abdomen. He needed rest and he knew it, he also needed to prove to himself that he wasn’t giving up the life of a soldier just yet. He was only running from it awhile. Being a soldier was not enough, they only let you kill when others are in danger, not when you need it like a fix for a drug. Of course that is not why Keller was running from it, "But," he thought, "It sounds better than just saying ‘I like to kill for the thrill’." The creak of the door opening once again startled him out of pain and thoughts to pass the pain. The young woman had returned with a plate of cat food for an animal he must not have seen yet. Without pausing, he crept up to the porch and past the young girl whose eyes began weeping again. Her hand still holding the door open, he slipped past her and into the dark house that would take his eyes minutes to adjust to. He waited for the young woman to turn back into the house, but watched has she instead slammed her head into the side of the cheap plastic wall of the building. "What the fuck was that?" Keller heard the crabby voice scream. "Nothing mom." Charlie answered. "Just the rocking chair knocking against the wall. I’ll pull it out." She raised her hand to her forehead, and pulled it back down to find red drops staining her fingers. He watched as a line of blood trickled from the side of her head, cut by the pealing paper sticking out from the side of the wall she had beaten her skull against. She sighed, making an effort to make it sound like she was actually moving something along the porch, and then walked past him into the house where SHE could actually see what stood in her way. Keller laughed, his scoff silent and undetected by those inside the house. He pushed himself against the wall to the side of the door, waiting until he could see a sign of life in the darkness. He raised his hand up to his face, smirking all the while, "It’s so dark," he thought, "I can’t even see my own hand in front of my face." He pushed his head back against the wall, his skull aching with cold blood. He remembered the young woman sighing when she saw the blood on her hands; he knew that she would have trouble explaining that to her crabby mom. "Damn." Keller thought, rubbing his eyebrows with the tips of his fingers, a less than laughing smile forming across his face, "Is that what she does when she thinks no one’s watching?"