Ezekiel trampled the old papers, his gaze sharpening when he looked toward his desk, surprisingly it only had one or two papers on it, both of which related to his first case, they were investigating an armed robbery, safe to say it didn’t end well. With a shiver, he swept the papers off his desk and reached for the top drawer, it was locked. Of course it was locked. He struggled to get it open, knowing he hadn’t used the drawer in years, he wouldn’t know where the key was, and he frankly didn’t care.


    He tugged at the drawer, planting his boot at the desk’s base and kicking at the drawer with his left foot. It was hardwood and he thought it would be more difficult to break, but, turns out the humidity had gotten to it. The drawer’s front splintered and snapped, Ezekiel dropping the remains the moment it did so and kneeling to see inside the drawer. His knees hit the splintered wood, more than a few slivers being caught in his skin, but he didn’t care, he was looking for a flashlight.


    Ezekiel stuck his hand in the drawer, it contained far more than a few packs of batteries, as if Ezekiel was heavily afraid the flashlight’s batteries would die, it seems it came in handy as after around fifteen years there was no way the batteries in that flashlight would still work.


    He would have merely opened the window to let some light in but, after the incident he’d boarded it off and stuck a cork board over top, that same cork board was now covered in photos and strips from newspapers etc. all connected with several different colours of string.


    Ezekiel scratched at one of the battery packs, trying his best to get it open so he could replace the batteries in the flashlight, said flashlight had been unscrewed and held between his knees so he could place the batteries inside easier. “God who designed this packaging…” Ezekiel hissed and resorted to using his teeth to tear through the package, most of the batteries fell on the floor which caused Ezekiel to scramble to try and pick up at least three, just enough to make the flashlight work.


    The flashlight clicked on, a beam of light illuminating the room wherever Ezekiel decided to point it. “Finally…” He grumbled, looking around the cluttered bedroom, despite being covered in paper everything else was well kept, as if before it was covered in documentation it had been obsessively cleaned.


    Ezekiel pointed the flashlight at the cork board which covered his window, it was eerily lit, it made him uncomfortable to stare at, but it had something he needed.


    Held on by a purple thumb tack was an article, an article that wasn’t connected to anything else on the board at all, it had a statement about a man who’d gone missing in the exact neighbourhood Ezekiel had been in about forty minutes prior, he’d never done anything with the case as they’d found the body and after about two years of searching never found the killer, but being there really made a realisation strike him. There was a slim chance that Valery had gone missing in this neighbourhood as the only evidence she was there was the fact she’d gone to see ‘Stix & Shovels’ perform. But perhaps she was stalked, starting from that neighbourhood, perhaps the same person who’d caused the disappearance and murder of Micheal Wilson had caused the disappearance of Valery North, but how would he find them, what would he do.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Ezekiel sat down on his paper covered bed, the documents were crips despite the humid air, the crunched underneath his weight. He had moved the article to the very centre of the cork board and simply sat. He didn’t remove the light, he didn’t move, he just stared, the light was directed at the middle of the board as to illuminate the case of Micheal Wilson. He gulped before whispering to himself. “This is gonna’ be a long night…”


    The sun soon had risen, though the light did not enter the room; Ezekiel was curled up atop the collection of papers which sat on his bed, surrounded by markers and notebooks, an empty coffee mug and some advil. The room was still stuffy and damp but now smelt ever so slightly of pen ink mixed with mocha.


    Ezekiel’s arm twitched, hearing an alarm clock on his bedside table tick before beginning to beep. his hand moving to grip his back, rolling onto his stomach to try and push off of the pile. He was disoriented and trying to figure out where the sad beeping was coming from, the alarm clock sounded like it was on its last life, it''s a shocker it made it this long.


    “Christ…” He murmured to himself, the pages shifting while Ezekiel staggered to his feet, reaching for the clock which was, not surprisingly, also covered in papers, sticky notes, and accompanied by a more than thick layer of dust. He struggled to reach for the alarm, his left hand running across the dresser in an attempt to find it, his right hand running across the bed to find his flashlight.


    The alarm clock fell to the ground, the sound was muffled by the large stack of papers beneath it, but it did stop the beeping, and that''s all Ezekiel cared about right now. “Can’t believe that thing’s still been goin’ off all these years…” He clicked on the flashlight, his apartment sounded more stagnant than usual, he felt heavy and gloomy, it was a weird feeling, he didn’t like it, not one bit. It felt almost as if he were in the presence of something he shouldn’t be.


    The door slammed open, Ezekiel tossed the flashlight onto his couch, he still had his boots on from last night and his hair was a mess but he was ready and raring to get to work; he ripped the far right drawer of his coffee table open, grabbing his house and car keys before booking it down the complex stairs.


    Ezekiel tripped into the car garage, kicking his vehicle on purpose with a slight rage against it, god knows why, he just felt like it. The vehicle he’d begun opening the door for was a janky, old sedan. He struggled to get the door open, though it soon gave way and Ezekiel was able to throw himself into the front seat.