It's been hell of a week since we discovered symbol after symbol in the houses of each victim. It took us such a long time to find the hidden symbol per house; just because the killer doesn't leave them where it's obvious. He seems to have been hiding them on purpose.
There's one more house from one of the victims that we still haven't checked. All because it's located pretty far from the city and we haven't got much time left last week. Clayton said we'd go there once we tell our firm about everything. Especially to Officer Rankin, who clearly waits for us to present any form of evidence.
I think he'd find it hard to believe that a weird symbol could be one of the missing pieces of a puzzle. It rarely happens in real life. And as far as I know, it's only common in fiction and movies.
But then again, I wasn't aware that things like this really does exist. And what can we possibly do if the killer is really part of a cult? A religious agenda? He
I've been pacing back and forth the living room as I tightly embrace the bottle of alcohol with me. A few more drinks and it'll be empty again. I can't seem to remember how many glass I drank since I got home. But at this point in my life where everything about my career seems going downhill, I don't care.I could grab a knife with me and try to scare Clayton Jones when he gets to my door. But that would probably be too much. I just can't seem to find a way to let him know how much I despise his existence.Ever since that stupid car accident happened, nothing is going well around me anymore. I once thought that maybe working with him would help me hate him less.And it did work, for a little while.But now the anger just keeps coming back. He has everything with him and I basically have nothing to be proud about.This is so stupid.I nearly jumped as I hear a loud sound of bell coming from the door.
The first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning---after realizing I was already wearing a different pajamas, that there were bottles of alcohol scattered around the damn floor, and seeing my foot with a handkerchief covered in blood---was death. Pure one. A slow, painful death that would swallow me all the way down to the ground; never to be seen or heard from again.I keep playing with my straw as I stare at Brenna's sudden reaction. Her eyes are wide open and it would be an understatement to say that she's surprised. She's not only surprised. She seems to be... in total awe."Fucking shit, Sam!" Her voice raises. "You kissed him?!"I immediately gestured her to calm down. But it seems that it's already too late; now that everyone's eyes inside this coffee shop are on us."I was drunk!" I protested.It's the truth. I really was drunk. Half of me knew what I was doing that night. But half of me was also men
Just like what Brenna said, I'm trying to keep everything professional instead of wasting my time away worrying about Clayton's thoughts.I can't believe he's still able to convince me to get into his car. We'll be investigating the fifth house today---mainly to check if there's also a symbol from the killer. And if there is, then it sure as hell related to the crimes. The only thing to do after this investigation is to hunt the killer down.And we're halfway there.I turn my head to the car's stereo as Clayton turns the music on. It's better this way; to let the music take over than having to deal with the silence between us. I really don't like being in such situation, after all."Five more minutes and we're there," he said, keeping his eyes on the road.I just decided to snuggle up with my coat and keep quiet, not saying a word.It's been so difficult dealing with his presence since that embarrassing ni
The Detective Tag firm immediately found out about the case Clayton and I were handling together when a report from different police stations broke out.Initially, it was only supposed to exist between Clayton, Officer Rankin and Douglas, Brenna, and me. But now they all know it. Everyone. And unfortunately, Amanda and Tin has been giving me the worst look since this morning.As soon as the police came to us yesterday, Clayton was immediately sent to the hospital. I made a choice to go home instead of coming along with him. That way, the hospital staffs would give him more attention and eventually attend to his wounds quickly.I was given the chance not to attend work today and spend time at home. But I feel as though that would mean special treatment. I didn't want to be excused because I got hurt. In fact, I should be penalized for letting the suspect run away.I woke up early this morning and drive my way to work. Everyone here
"Three days is a long break, Dad." I said, putting my white nail polish down the desk as I let my toenails dry for a few minutes. "Besides, he's probably searching for his next victim. If I could only fight back that day, Clayton would've caught the man easily. It's my fault."After spending the entire evening with Clayton yesterday, I managed to find enough time to call my father and tell him about what happened. I couldn't help but repeatedly blame myself for the failure I caused that day."Everybody makes mistakes, Sam." My father sighed. "And worry about yourself! There'll be plenty of cases around. But you wouldn't solve any of them if you aren't okay."And as usual, he's right. But the weight and burden still remains on my chest.We talked for a few more minutes, having a simple conversation about how he managed to cook his favorite pasta today. He's cute. Always is and always will.My father told me about how he
The loud beep of my alarm clock jolted me awake in an instant. It's Friday and today's the day of my personal investigation without having Clayton with me.Only Officer Douglas knows about this. I pleaded him last time not to tell anyone about it. Not even Brenna, especially. Because I'm certain she'd let Clayton know about it the moment she learns I'm doing this alone.I've been trying my best to avoid replying on Clayton's texts these past few hours. I know I might accidentally bring something up that he shouldn't know about. It's safer for him to be clueless about my plans.Besides, like I said, I don't want him to get hurt because of me. Not for the second time. I feel guilty enough already for what happened that day."This is Samara Culkin," I put my phone into a loud speaker mode and grab my fresh pants on the bed, wearing it in a swift manner. "Yeah. I'd like to order a cup of coffee. I'll pick it up when I get there."
"Stay away from me."Those were the first words that came out of my mouth when he pushes me hard against the wall. His hands are tightly tied on both of my arms, making me unable to move."Who the fuck sent you here, huh?" he asked, voice covered in utter frustration."Let..." I could barely speak. "Let me go!""Tell me!" He raises his voice.I can feel his hot breathing on the nape of my neck. I tried moving my legs in attempt to kick him from the back, but his knees are pinning me in my place."Okay," I replied, catching my breath. "Okay, I'll tell you. Just let me go."If there is one thing that my detective school didn't teach me, it's about luring criminals and making them believe you're one of them. I'm not confident that this trick could work. But I know it wouldn't be bad to try."I promise I wouldn't do anything." I added. "Just let me go.""You think I didn'
The first thing I thought about when I got home was to take a bath. A long fucking one. A bath that would take all the negative energy away. Energy that I got from that stupid piece of shit who actually thought about abducting me.I didn't think about phone calls. Texts. Or anything else.During the course that I was inside the house with that man, I've been gone for two days straight. I didn't have any idea that it lasted that long. I guess I fell asleep too hard that I woke up after a long time.There was a huge sense of fright, anxiety, and courage in me all at the same time. But I was too confused of my situation that I couldn't think straight about how I really feel.I don't know if the man escapes again. Or if he's still lying down the ground. It's been four hours since I drive away and I couldn't care less about his situation.It's almost midnight. I'm tired and I want to fucking rest.-