Delirium~Part 2

     Well, it took a long ass time, three cups of coffee, and plenty of patience, but I'm finally in Scanton. The first person on the list is a widow, Martha Dustin. She was one of the first people to call in about this.
     In her report, she said her son had gone crazy and brutally stabbed his father, Stewart Dustin. This happened a while ago, but I should remain cautious. It would be best to try and remain from crossing any lines.

*End of note*

     Carly walks up to the door of the house. She blows a strand of black hair from her face and knocks on the door. She patiently waits for anyone to answer. A woman, with chesnut hair put into a bun opens the door.
     "H-Hello?" she mumurs.
     "Would this be the house of Martha Dustin?" Carly asks in return.
     "Yes. That would be me."
     "My name is Carly Hawthorne, Ms. Dustin." Carly presents her badge. "I'm a police dectective. Would you mind if I came in and asked a couple questions?" A soft sigh.
     "I suppose so..." Martha makes a gesture bringing Carly into her home. She leads her into the living and gestures for her to take a seat onthe couch. Martha places herself in a leather armchair. She takes the tea kettle on the table and pours some into a teacup. "Want some?"
     "No, no thank you. I drank a lot of coffee earlier."
     "Mhmm." Martha takes a sip of her tea. She sets the cup delicately on a small platter. "So what is it you want to know?"
     "Well...could you walk through the steps of what happened? So I can grasp more firmly how all this works." Another sigh.
     "April sixteenth, two-thousand fourteen. Carl had always been a very sweet boy. Very inteligent. At first, I noticed slipping in his grades. A's became B's but, I ignored it. Then, you see that piano over there?"
     "Quite the instrument."
     "Yes. Carl filled the house with beatiful symphonies on a daily basis. He started decreasing the amount of times he would play, though. Until he never touched the thing again. After that, he started locking his door. He never has done that before. All he does is study and read in there anyways. Why should he lock the door?"
     "I see..." Carly scribbled down the new information in a small notepad.
     "Then one day...Stewart came home a little late. He got himself a plate that we leave in the fridge for him, as usual. But when he was turned around...Carl took his oppurtunity. You know the rest. I called the police and he was incapacitated because he tried to kill an officier, merely wounding him. He was speaking in tongues the whole time, no one could understand him."
      Carly wrote down the information, feeding the words onto the paper. "Anything else you can recall, Ms. Dustin?"
     "No...nothing besides what I've already told you."
     "Was there any kind of unusual marks on Stewart? Like a pentagram or something?" Martha forced her teacup aganist the platter.
     "Are you saying my boy was some kind of satanist?"
     "I'm just making sure Martha. I can't afford to skip any details." A pause.
     "I've told you all that I wish to say." Martha walked over to the door and opened it. "Please leave my home."
     "Ms. Dustin, please..."
     "Get out." Carly got up and walked out.
     "Stay-" Martha slammed the door in her face. "...safe. Well that could have gone better."