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Chapter 91: Fourteen Floors
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2021-09-24 17:31:52CHUCK
Now, are you all ready to search for Travis?” I asked Rabiya and Philip and Janvic and myself. The question was stuck in the air and it floated there for about more than a minute or two. It was not a bubble that would pop out naturally after a few seconds of staying in the mid-air. It was too different and they were way too far from each other. After a couple of minutes, every single one of us nodded, but it happened in unison and not individually. “So, what are we waiting for? Let us now begin!” I commanded.
We decided that perhaps it would be better and safer if we search the same place, but divide the parts of the place in two sections. The section one, which is composed of the first foor, the second floor, the third floor, the fourth floor, the fifth floor, the sixth floor, and the seventh floor, will go to the first group in the names of Rabiya and Janvic. On the other hand, the
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The Photo Collector Chapter 151: The Letter
SAMANTHA Everything went so fast and abrupt since we decided to ditch the police and never show up in either of anyone’s houses. The best part was that, I felt what it was like being a villain. Yes, the way we moved, the way we established plans, and the way we executed them, it surely the same as how villains did their job on movies.By around this time, we were now inside our house. The black truck was parked outside the gate, as all of us entered inside to take a short break. While the rest were slouching on the sofa beds, I and my twin brother Vhynz searched the house to look for the map of the island where our slaughterhouse business was located. Well, the thing was, neither of us two was able to remember where we put that thing. All I could remember was the passcode of the safe where the credit cards and the money was left by our parents. When I checked it the moment we arrived, the map wa
The Photo Collector Chapter 150: Plans, We Need Plans
CHUCKLooking at Travis when he followed to cop to lead him to where our tents were located was already a pain in the eyes to me. I could sense the fear he was feeling from afar, and I could hear the loud drum rolls of his heart as he walked steps farther away that us. It was already given that if someone was here in this island with us, chances was that, he or should could have planted the evidences that linked to us inside one of those tents. There could be a slim possibility that we would be proven guilty. Every single one of us were drunk and wasted last night; it would have been a perfect opportunity for the killer to get our fingerprints or perhaps, to be more believable, tag the murder weapon in our hands right after killing Janvic with it. But until now, I still did not realize how Janvic was killed. There were bruises and stabbed wounds all over his body, but they were scattered. Was it a brutal way of slaughtering? Or
The Photo Collector Chapter 149: Torture
A not so long time had passed but still none of Noel Hummingbird’s so called disciples had went out of the cottage to give us at least the tiniest update they could provide regarding on how was the status of the conversation. It has been an hour already since the clash between Philip and the detective had happened, but still, here we were, pinned down to the ground just yet, feeling the intense numbing of our arms, and the pain on our necks as we contest on our nerves about who will stay longer in this position and who will remain surviving until the end of the investigation protocol. While we were trying our best not to collapse and get passed out on our spot where everyone of us friends were gathered, I decided maybe it was best if we had our own little chitchat just to shut down the dead air that had been wrapping and suffocating us. I initiated the conversation, and thank all the heavens above my classmates chimed in and made it as fluent as possible. “Are you still
The Photo Collector Chapter 148: Suspects
TRAVISWhen we heard the sirens wailed from afar, we already suspected that it was them already; Philip with the rest of our friends, and then the police car. Hearing them made us skip each of our things that we were doing and ran out of the cottage to meet them half way. There were some signs of relief in my heart, but at the same time I could not deny the fact that there were also nerves of nervousness trying to ruin the day. Obviously, none of us three who were left here in the cottage was the killer, and there supposedly have no reason for us to be feeling guilty. But why are we feeling the complete opposite? Why, while running going outside, are we feeling as if we wanted to hide something only to make sure that we could prove ourselves innocent? And lastly, why did I feel like here would go another round of spitting lies again, only to assure that this time, I, or neither of Rabiya and Chuck, would not be accused a killer?
The Photo Collector Chapter 147: All Are Shitty
RABIYA The amount of boxes for Travis to unpack was so overwhelming, just as overwhelming as the number of drawers I had check to make sure that not a single clue will be left unseen. Ever since we started doing what we were opt to do, we had not yet seen an evidence. Not one. Not even a little, slight, or discreet one. At this point of our semi investigation, I was now starting to think that what if there were really no clues hidden inside the cottage? What if we were just used to know that this was the usual routine every time there was a crime happening that it brought us to conclude that the same protocol should be implemented? I rested my face from frowning because of the unpleasant smell coming from the utensils that were long kept inside the drawers-- only God knew how long had they been there inside their cases. I moved three steps away from the kitchen cabinet, and then clapped the dusts off my hands. I then washed the
The Photo Collector Chapter 146: Breakfast Us Three
CHUCK After five minutes at most, Rabiya got out of the kitchen room with a serving platter and three cups of coffee. Just by the aroma of it, and just by seeing how the steam evaporated in the air sending thin clouds of visible smoke towards us, as if a hand trying to seduce us to drink it right away, I could already determine that the freshly brewed coffee were so satisfying. I jumped out of the sofa where I decided to sit for three minutes, and fetched Rabiya from the isle to get the cup she prepared for me. I determined it right away which cup was mine, because I was the only one who ordered my coffee to be black and pure. No sure, no creamer, no anything at all. “You better be sure this taste great,” I threatened Rabiya in a jokingly manner. She just gave me a good smirk, as if she was utterly confident that her brewed coffee would meet the standards of my peculiar taste buds. I then picked up another cup, the
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