The rain poured, creating a rhythmic melody of tapping on the windowpane as I observed the thunderstorm from Liza's expansive living room. White walls surrounded a dark couch, with a large open window at the front and a TV. Liza stood behind me, carrying one of her father's vodka bottles, and smoked a cigar from his secret cabinet, which we were only told never to venture into.

"You should have said something to Claire, Ez," she remarked, a slight smile accompanying a billow of smoke from her lips.

"I didn't want to," I replied, sinking into the side of her father's chair.

The rain intensified outside, adding to the symphony of nature, as Liza continued speaking, oblivious to the hidden turmoil within me.

"You should say something to Claire, Ez," she insisted, taking another puff from the stolen cigar. I simulated reluctance, settling further into the chair, my mind strategizing the next move in this intricate game.

"I don't want to," I repeated, my voice concealing the internal conflict. Liza gave me a knowing look, sensing that something was amiss, but she dismissed it, attributing it to the weight of the situation.

I observed as she poured more vodka into our glasses, the amber liquid mirroring the storm outside. As the intoxication gradually clouded her judgment, I took satisfaction in the cover it provided for my genuine motives.

"It's getting worse out there, Ez. I mean, first, it was just a couple of missing persons, and now these murders..." Liza's words hung in the air, and I played my role – a concerned friend entangled in the same web of fear.

"Yeah," I agreed, my mind skirting the edge of satisfaction. The thrill of deception mingled with the anticipation of impending chaos.

"I heard they found another body near the old mill this morning," Liza whispered, her eyes glancing towards the window as if seeking answers in the relentless rain.

"Another one?" I echoed, my feigned shock concealing that I was intimately familiar with the gruesome scenes unfolding in our once-idyllic town.

Liza handed me the bottle, and I took a sip, the fiery liquid adding fuel to the facade. A subtle smile played on my lips as she spoke of taking action and doing something. Little did she know that my concept of action was far from the sinister path she could ever imagine.

"We need to do something, Ez. We can't just sit here and pretend everything's normal," Liza declared, her eyes filled with determination.

I nodded in agreement, wearing the mask of a friend amidst the storm. The storm outside mirrored the turmoil within me, and as we crafted a plan to investigate, I found irony in the situation. Unbeknownst to Liza, she unwittingly aligned herself with the very force that haunted our town – a force reveling in the chaos and darkness unfurling in the aftermath of each murder.

I met Liza's determined gaze with a thoughtful expression, taking a moment to weigh my words. The storm outside mirrored the tempest within me, and I decided to steer her away from the dangerous path she was unknowingly treading.

"Liza," I began, lowering the bottle and placing it on the table. I get it. It's terrifying, and we can't ignore what's happening around us. But going after the killer, especially near the old mill, is too risky. We don't know what we're dealing with."

Liza looked at me, her determination momentarily faltering. "But we can't just sit here, Ez. We have to do something!"

I nodded, understanding her concern yet persisting in my caution. "I agree, but we need to be smart about this. Maybe we should go to the authorities and share what we know. They have the resources to handle it."

She hesitated, torn between her desire for action and the sensible suggestion I had just presented. The rain continued its relentless assault on the windows as if urging us to find shelter from the brewing storm for longer.

"I don't trust the authorities, Ez. They've been ineffective so far," Liza finally stated, her eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and defiance.

I leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We need a plan, and we need to be cautious. Investigating these murders without proper information could put us at risk."

She sighed a hint of resignation in her expression. "What do you suggest, then?"

I leaned back, contemplating the situation. "Let's gather any information we can discreetly. We don't confront the killer directly. We build a case, collect evidence, and then when we have something substantial, we tell my father."

Liza nodded, seeming to appreciate the more measured approach. The storm outside continued its relentless assault, and within the confines of Liza's living room, we embarked on a different kind of storm. Little did she know that by redirecting her impulse for action, we might uncover the truth without falling prey to the darkness in our midst.

Later that night, the relentless rain outside had transformed into a gentle drizzle. The streets were quiet, and the only sound that accompanied my footsteps was the soft patter of raindrops.

I wandered into the bedroom, shutting down Hazell's blaring music. He looked up at me from his comic and sighed. 

"Ezra, what's going on?" he asked.

As we settled in the room, the soft glow of lamps casting a warm ambiance, I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "Hazell, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me."

His brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded. "Of course."

"Have you been near the old mill recently?" I asked, my gaze unwavering.

Hazel's eyes widened in surprise, and he shook his head vehemently. "No, Ez. Why would you even think that?"

I exhaled, relieved by his immediate denial. "Liza and I heard about another murder near the mill, and, well, things are getting out of hand in town. I needed to make sure."

His expression shifted to one of concern. "Murder? Again."

I hesitated, not wanting to implicate myself in the twisted events that unfolded. "There's another serial killer on the loose, Hazell. Liza and I are trying to figure out what's happening."

Hazell's eyes darkened, a mixture of worry and disbelief. "Another serial killer? In our town? How fun!"

My mind raced with the events of the evening. "Liza wants to take matters into our own hands and investigate again. But I'm not sure it's the right approach. We need to be cautious and gather information before rushing into anything."

Hazel nodded. "What do you need from me?"

"A semi-normal brother who doesn't murder," I wanted to say, but what came out was, "Just... be careful, Hazell." Hazell rolled his eyes and continued to his comic.

"Update me," He muttered, his eyes glued to a page.

"Sure," I said, hoping I didn't get murdered first.