The Dead House

In a journal entry dated 31 January 2005, Kaitlyn practices several drafts of a letter, which she states she will give to Ari. It is evident by the confused writing that it cost her something to put down on paper all she thought. The bottom of the page has been torn off, presumably the version of the note she delivered to Ari.



dear ari

please come see me right away, something happened

i think i know who the shyan is

i don’t want to do this–i can’t believe it. i won’t.

i need to talk to you about john.


A return note is slipped inside the back of the journal beside the Claydon diary entries, and is presumed to be Ari’s reply.




IS IT HIM?




A reply in writing has never been discovered. Anyone under the age of eighteen should not read the rest of this report without parental consent.





102


26 hours before the incident


Naida Camera Footage

Monday, 31 January 2005, 10:57 PM

Basement



The basement camera clicks on as John throws Ari into the room. Presumably they have been arguing in the stairwell, but as Ari opens his mouth to say something, John yells, “You son of a bitch!” and hits him hard across the face.

“John—” Ari tries to yank free, but John hits twice more, and Ari spits blood.

Baring teeth smeared crimson, Ari knocks John in the stomach with his shoulder before landing two of his own punches across John’s face. He falls against the far wall, collapsing onto his left knee, and Ari kicks him hard in the stomach. John grunts but seems otherwise unaffected, and the two wrestle, landing blows and shoving back and forth.

Footsteps echo from some way off, but neither seems to notice because John’s large hands close around Ari’s throat.

Ari jerks and yanks at his arms, face bleeding red and then tingeing purple; John’s strength seems overwhelming. At that moment, Kaitlyn rounds the corner, saying “What is going on—” and stops, dropping her journal. She screams.

“John! John, stop it! Let him go!”

John doesn’t react—maybe he doesn’t hear—but when Kaitlyn launches herself forward, pulling on his arms despite her injuries, he grunts and shoves her back with one hand, the other still clasped firmly around Ari’s throat. She staggers, but tries again, this time jumping onto his back. Again, he throws her off, more forcefully now, so that she is, for a moment, winded.

Ari, foaming at the mouth, manages a startled choke, and his eyes roll back in his head. Kaitlyn moves onto her side, coughing, and then forces herself to her feet.

“Please!” she cries again, hitting John, her efforts futile. Panicked, she scrambles into the shadows. We hear metal scrape against concrete, then Kaitlyn runs towards John, yelling, her arms raised high, and brings down the object she is holding to strike his neck.

John jerks upwards, a tiny grunt escaping his lips, and stumbles away from the now-unconscious Ari. Kaitlyn jumps back as though shocked at what she’s done.

“I’m sorry, but stop it!” she cries. “Just stop!”

He turns to look at Kaitlyn, then reaches up to touch his neck. His hand comes away crimson.

He staggers.

He falls onto his knees.

Kaitlyn drops the knife. The same knife that took Naida’s voice. The sound echoes across the room.

John coughs, his lips rouge. Kaitlyn cries out once, then scrambles over to him.

“John—John—”

He coughs again, and a spray of blood follows, then a bubble of crimson pops on his lips. He is breathing very fast, and each exhale spills blood from his nostrils.

“Oh, my God, John, please!”

Kaitlyn grabs him as he collapses, his weight on top of her legs. Her cries die away as she watches him breathe, her hand pressed to the wound she created.

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s okay.” Over and over, she says it. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to!”

His eyes stare as his breath quickens, and more and more blood spills from the wound in his neck. He twitches, twitches again, and Kaitlyn stifles a sob as she strokes his hair. It is a terrible, lengthy process, during which Kaitlyn watches, her face contorted.

Ari stirs, coughs, leaning over to gasp in desperate breaths. His eyes meet the scene in front of him just as John stops his desperate inhalations, seizes briefly, and then stills.

Kaitlyn’s lips tremble, and her eyes fill with tears.

Ari staggers to his feet and hurries over to the door. He swings it shut just in time to contain Kaitlyn’s scream, which lingers on and on, as she bends over John’s dead, bloodied body. When the scream ends, another takes its place, and another. She grips John’s shirt, now vividly scarlet, and Ari has to pry her fingers free.

She continues to scream.

One must wonder why, in all the minutes John lay dying, she didn’t call for help.