Chapter 130: 31| Movie-2

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" My breath got caught in my throat, the question catching me off guard. "No," I sputtered, "I'm not in love with him. I'm not." Marshall nodded slowly. "Okay." "Marshall," I said pointedly, "I'm not." "Not yet?" I sighed in annoyance. "Not ever." His lip twitched. "Okay." "I-" Before I could continue the argument, there was a knock on the door, and when I turned around, Dante stood at the door. "Come on in," Marshall told him. Taking a breath, I forced my eyes away from Dante. "Shall we?" Marshall asked, gesturing toward the camera sitting on the desk. "May I?" Dante asked, taking hold of it. "Go ahead," Marshall replied. Swiping the camera off the counter, Dante smoothly connected it to Marshall's laptop before turning to the screen against the wall and air playing everything onto the screen. As the first video came into sight, Dante looked at me. "You don't have to watch this if you're uncomfortable," he reminded me. "I know," I said, "I'll leave if it's too much." He stared at me for a beat until I gave him a nod of reassurance. The video lasted almost an entire hour with no cuts in between. Sitting through it grew harder by the second as I watched the killer torture Adeline Vaughn with such brutality. I had to look away several times, and I had no idea how Dante and Marshall managed to watch it without flinching. With each passing minute, I started to feel sick, and just when I thought I couldn't handle it anymore, the video ended. Surely, several clues were hidden within it, but I knew I didn't have the stomach to sit through that again. But the one question we needed the answer to most desperately was still left unanswered. Who was the killer? Judging from the physique and build of the person on tape, it was undoubtedly a man. Tall, probably six feet or more. He was fairly well built, not exactly muscular, but lean and toned. Each move, every strike he took, had such force and strength exuding from him. He was masked. Instead of a typical clown, character, or Halloween mask, he wore a black medical mask, covering his nose and everything beneath it while a black baseball cap kept his eyes and hair out of sight. "Wait," I mumbled, staring at the screen as the video came to an end. His face remained concealed, but blond hair peeked out beneath the edges of his cap. Dante took a breath as he turned to me. "You're thinking it's Ethan?" I nodded slowly. "Even more than I already did." "What gives it away?" Marshall asked in confusion. "He's keeping himself concealed." "The hair," I said, "it's blond. I haven't seen a lot of blond men with hair so light, have you?" His hair was slightly dirty blond but had no hints of darkness. A pale golden on each and every strand with the softest brown peeking through the roots. His hair was slightly long in the back, just like Ethan's was. "It's him," I mumbled, "I swear to God, it has to be." "What if-" Marshall was quickly cut off by the sound of static playing through his computer as the screen went black completely. I turned to Dante. "What happened?" "I don't know, give me a second," he breathed out, clicking out of the video. Only when he went to replay it did an entirely different video begin playing instead. Not just one but a series of videos. Home movies. The camera was set aside in a field with a young boy's back facing it and the same head of pale blond hair clearly visible. "Are you ready?!" someone yelled from a distance. "Yeah!" the kid shouted enthusiastically, ready to swing the baseball bat in his hand. He hit the ball with all his might before dropping his bat and jumping ecstatically, running over to the camera and scooping it up. When the child's face was finally revealed, it was with a toothless grin and shabby blond hair falling over his eyes while a pink flush coated his cheeks. "I beat Daddy again," he giggled. Before the video could finish, a gray static screen replaced it again, and a new video began playing. This one was even older but showed the same kid at a younger age running around a backyard, dancing and playing while sprinklers went off around him. It was like a movie about this kid's life as he grew older, showing every stage. The person filming could be heard laughing, an older man's rich, deep voice clearly audible. "You'll catch a cold, Ethan!" he yelled. Dante and I exchanged a glance. "No, I won't!" the kid screamed, continuing to chase the air. Several videos of that kind played with the child always visible but the man behind the camera never being revealed. Until the last one. It was in an art studio. The man was seated on a stool, his face out of frame, but everything below his chest was revealed while he worked on a canvas hidden from view. The paint staining his clothes and hands gave it away, along with the occasional glimpse of a brush in his hand. In the background, the door opened, and the same kid, Ethan, tiptoed in hesitantly. "What are you working on, Daddy?" he asked quietly, staring at the painting. The man replied with a soft laugh, "Just a little painting, son." "Is that her?" "Her?" the man asked in confusion. "That girl. You called her little dove." My blood ran cold the second that nickname poured through the speakers. "Little dove?" the man questioned, turning to face his son. "Where did you hear that?" He was scared now, not knowing how to respond to his Dad as if he were caught doing something he was forbidden from. "I went into the basement, Daddy," he whispered. "Ethan," the man sighed, reaching for the camera to shut it off. Only before he did, his face was finally revealed between the gaps of his fingers that covered the lens. It grew harder to breathe until it was almost impossible. My heart was pounding beneath my rib cage, blood flowing in my ears. My breaths wouldn't go past my throat, my chest grew heavier like a weight was sitting on it, slowly suffocating me. It's him. It's him. I shot up out of my seat so fast the chair went reeling back, and even though my knees almost gave out from beneath me, I caught myself using the desk. Both Marshall and Dante turned to me in shock. "What's wrong?" Dante asked, taking a step toward me. "I have to go," I rushed out, beginning to hyperventilate now. "I can't- can't breathe in here," I gasped, taking a step back and toward the door. I stumbled over my own feet and almost lost my balance, barely catching myself as Dante rushed to hold me. "I'm fine," I forced out, still avoiding their eyes. "I just have to go." "Anastasia," Dante said quietly, "talk to me." I shook my head quickly. "I can't… I promised. He's going to kill me if I do." A flicker of realization passed through Dante's eyes, but desperation hit me in the gut before he could say anything. "I have to go," I mumbled, turning around and running out of the room. It was him. The man I spent my entire life fearing, the man that ruined my childhood. He stole everything from me, including my sister. He ruined me, he ruined my family, he took everything. I had no doubt it was him. Isaiah Morales. And if that boy in those videos really was his son and it truly was Ethan… Suddenly, everything clicked into place. My abductor, Isaiah Morales, and Ethan… was his son. . . . . . Chapter 31