《The Hanged Man》


 Chapter 1: Alphonse - Tribulation

    Chapter 1: Tribulation


    ¡°How did it come to this?¡±


    I asked myself that question repeatedly as I strengthened my grip around her neck while erotic music played in the background. The sounds of her gasping for breath, along with that terrified expression she had, drove me crazy. Why was she not dead yet? Could a human really survive this long without breathing? She tried to resist me, slashing me with her long nails while trying to push me away. The more she hurt me, the stronger I forced my hands. If it was a moment ago, I would have never thought that this frail girl could even do anything physical and certainly not injuring me. Was this what they called hysterical strength when one was faced to a life and death situation?


    Tears poured out of my eyes as I gathered all my remaining strength. Though in my mind, I was begging her. ¡°PLEASE DIE! PLEASE!¡±. It was then that my own adrenaline started to kick in. In a split of a second, I snapped her neck. The cracking of bones was much louder than I expected, considering how deep it was concealed inside our bodies. I only saw this kind of scene in movies but only assumed it was just acting. So, we humans really died when our neck snapped. I have always thought it was anticlimactic for action movies to have some major characters die in such a way. But now, my whole point of view has changed. It really was not as easy as it looked.


    Standing up straight as I released my grip on the poor girl¡¯s neck, I breathed heavily as I turned my sight on the result of my actions. What have I done? She was such a sweet girl. And here I was, standing in front of her naked corpse. What have I become? I tried to remain calm but couldn¡¯t. My hands were shaking, despite this was my second time. I wanted to think it was because I was still human that I was able to feel guilty for her death. Else, how could I retain my sanity?


    I looked at the mess we caused. The pink blanket was thrown off from the bed. The bed lamp was broken from our struggle with the glass pieces scattered all over the floor. A giant mirror covered the ceiling, allowing me to see everything in the room just by looking at it. I never really understood why they put it there in the first place. Maybe the effect of more visual clues gave the interaction a better perspective. I supposed that some people got turned on by this kind of things. Then again, it was not like I was well informed on this particular kind of subject. It was a bit of a surprise to see such a room destined for intimacy and the act of procreating could turn into a murder scene. And just moments ago, both the killer and the victim were on their way to divulge themselves in that same act.


    I never intended for this to happen. It was not supposed to end like this. But it did anyway. All because she said it. It was not my fault that she came to me by her own volition. It was not my fault that she was related to him. Could this really be my fate? Was I supposed to suck it up and die like a dog? Why did shitty things just keep happening to me? It was all because of the accident. It was all because of him. Everything started that fateful day one month ago.


    * * *


    My name was Alphonse Graves, your average salesman employee. Though I was now the manager of a whole branch, I was still low in the chain, but not as much as those nerdy guys. The title sounded like I was some sort of big shot but in the end, it was just another fancy title for a company slave. My job was practically the same, if not with even more things to take care of while the difference in salaries did not really justify it. A guy like me, you could find everywhere wandering the streets, knowing not what exactly they were doing. Even though I was already halfway of my life. Waking up in early morning, taking the metal long box to go to work, only to spend the entire day inside another suffocating box. Every day was the same as the day before. It was like a perpetual loop that just kept repeating itself over and over again. I felt stuck and lost, unable to move on.


    Although, to be perfectly honest, a part of me didn¡¯t want that loop to stop. Actually, I would be more scared if it just suddenly stopped itself. What would I do then? The daily life was certainly boring and stuffy but at least I knew how it happened. However, if I came out of that shell, the uncertainty would kill me. Those youngsters might like it but not for an old guy like me. All these years at work, I, and many others, have already been accustomed to this dull life. We could barely keep up with the developing technology like those high-tech phones and computers. Once you became older in life, you could no longer afford to take any risk. Your family, your job, everything required responsibilities, something you could not simply shake off. So no, I would rather be shackled to those burdens than taking a step into the darkness of uncertainty.


    While I did think that and accepted my fate for what it was, it didn¡¯t stop me to continue ranting about how boring my life was. And it was not just me. Everyone did that. It was our human instinct to complain about everything, even things we decided for ourselves. I simply played my role as part of the mass and blamed everything else on those rich guys at the top or the government. As time went by, it became a habit, a bad but strangely virulent one. Nowadays, people shamelessly blamed their government for their lack of money while sitting on their ass in front of their TV. Bitchy bastards I knew, though I did understand their reasoning. It was simply much easier to put the blame on someone else rather than yourself. It made your life much less complicated this way.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Just like that, my entire life was that of a side character: graduating from school, working, forming a family and working. Every day was the same. There were a few exciting moments here and there but none actually concerned me. When I saw the reports on those terrorist attacks in another country, the first thing I looked for was how many people died because of it. I meant, if no one died, no matter how big the thing was, no one would ever pay any attention to it. Besides, it made the story much juicier. I should be honest here. A part of me wished that something would happen. And when I said that, I meant something big, really big, enough to shake everything up. Instead of just a few tiny amounts of dead people, why not blowing up the whole freaking building? Or maybe the entire airport or something like that. Either way, I wanted something interesting. But I certainly did not want it to happen to me though. Maybe like it could happen but somewhere far away from me, so I could watch safely in the side lines while still able to go to work perfectly normal the next day. Surely, a lot of people shared the same idea as mine.


    I thought that I was abnormal at first back when my body could still run around the whole street without breaking down and gasping like crazy. But as you went through shitty things in life, things changed. I did not start out like this. When I just finished school and started out my first job, I was so excited to finally be free from those boring days at school. Back then, I never understood why my colleagues always looked so tired, as if they were forced to be there. Every day, they either spent the entire work time searching for cat pictures on the net or chit-chatted behind someone¡¯s back. How could these idiots get where they were? But slowly, before I knew it, I became one of them too.


    By this point, I was probably a sick man. But those were simply the wicked thoughts of the human mind buried deep in our subconscious. Deep down, we were all the same. The essence of conflict, the desire for something out of the ordinary, I was sure that everybody shared the same idea as mine. I wasn¡¯t anything thing special, not a psychopath and certainly not a saint. I was simply being human.


    Still, I played my part in society and no wanting to sound pretentious or anything but I was sure I did a good job being a contributing member of the group. I have never committed a crime in my life. I paid my taxes dutifully. I was a proper citizen. I have always respected the laws and performed my best in any task given to me. That certificate of the employee of the year I hang on my wall was not just for show. I was well liked among my colleagues, probably because I never yelled at them even if they failed something. Personally, I believed that scorning people to put them down was unfavorable in term of productivity. People liked to hear good things about them and refused to listen when confronted with their failures. I found that with just a couple of few encouraging words, a pat on the back and a smile on the face did wonders to people. It didn¡¯t cost me anything and most of the time, it improved their productivity. Well, it worked in most cases. There were a few exceptions here and there but those were just a tiny minority of rebels. Besides, antagonizing someone over work would make a bad image for me.


    My boring life took a turn when I first met my wife during a friend reunion. She was my acquaintance back then but simply a friend of a friend. Still, somehow through that crowded room, I saw her under a heavenly light. Our eyes met and one thing led to another. Eventually, I settled down with a lovely wife and had a beautiful daughter. It might be difficult to believe considering what I said but I saw myself as a proper husband and a loving father. I loved both of them from the bottom of my heart all the way to the top. They were my treasures, the only thing I cherished truthfully in this boring life.


    Again, I was just your average salaryman. Nothing interesting ever happened in my life but I knew my place. I was content with what I had. A peaceful life, that was all I wished for. To spend every boring day in this boring life just like this, to live until the end of my life fully, to sit in your backyard and drinking my afternoon tea with my wife under the sunny sky, to lead my daughter to her school, to see her grow up into another fine lady just like her mother, to see her being married to one lucky bastard and cry back home while holding onto my family album. Those were my dreams, nothing special. Perhaps I was too laid back. Perhaps I should have asked for more. But if those things happened, I would be happy with my life. They were all that I asked.


    ¡°So tell me, God, or whatever you are up there, why did you do this to me?¡±


    That day, while I was at work, just doing my job, as always. We were having an important meeting with a partner company about the upcoming project. It was about some kind of new invention that was supposed to revolutionize the whole tech industry. Or at least, that was what they claimed it to be. They didn¡¯t even send the documents to me beforehand, saying it must remain top secret. I was not thrilled with the idea of coming to a meeting unprepared but it was not like I could go against the wishes of my boss. So much for employee of the year.


    Anyway, as we were just passing through the boring introduction, my secretary rushed into the meeting room with a phone in her hand. Stupid woman, I told her to not disturb my meetings again and again. But she never learnt.


    ¡°But sir, this is important.¡±


    ¡°I am busy, don¡¯t you see?¡±


    ¡°But¡­it is from the police.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It is about your wife and child¡­They were in an accident.¡±


    For a moment, my mind seemed to have shut down itself. I was so taken back by the news that I didn¡¯t manage to hear what the secretary was going on and on. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the morgue. The police have apparently led me here to identify the corpses. But there wasn¡¯t much to see. And whatever was left, it was hard to stomach. I did not quite manage to follow but there was another driver. It was him who recklessly collided into my wife¡¯s car just because he couldn¡¯t wait a few seconds for that red light. My wife lost control of the car and it hit an electric pole before exploding into pieces. Everything happened too fast before the rescuers could take them out so the only things that could still be found were two charcoaled remains of an adult and child. Even the bones were turned into ashes, especially for the child.


    I couldn¡¯t recognize them. Were they telling me that these piles of black slags were all that was left of my family? I couldn¡¯t utter a word. I didn¡¯t know what to say. I didn¡¯t know what to think. I didn¡¯t know what to make out of this. My mind went into a hazy blur as it tried to cope with reality. I couldn¡¯t shed even a single tear. I just stood there, staring at the bodies. Then, everything fast-forwarded. I wasn¡¯t sure how much time has passed. A few days perhaps. Either way, I found myself standing at the church in front of two sealed coffins. I looked back, only to see the crying faces of our families. Some of them I knew, others I was not even aware of their existence. Actually, I was never the type to keep contacting people I didn¡¯t see often. Most of the people here were on the family side of my wife. I supposed mine couldn¡¯t be bothered to come, not since the day I left that house behind. The empty words of consolation, I needed not to hear of them. The bright flowers decorating their graves, I had no need for them. All I wished for was a peaceful life with my family. Was that really too much to ask?

 Chapter 2: Alphonse - Injustice

    Chapter 2: Alphonse - Injustice


    I didn¡¯t really know what happened the next few days. I woke up and saw myself on the floor of our home. It didn¡¯t use to look this way. The curtains shrouded the light from entering. The pungent smell of dishes and trashes that were not cleaned and thrown up since the day she was gone filled the air. Our lovely home has lost its splendor. The colorful picture of the family now looked black and quite like a proof of bereavement. Instead of that warm feeling, it was now covered in a dark mourning mood. Actually, it wasn¡¯t the house itself that caused that. It was me. All the emptiness I felt was leaking out, sucking all the happy memories we shared in this place.


    I lost my will to live. I didn¡¯t care for anything else. My mind has shut itself from the world, leaving everything else to its vessel to do whatever instinct told it to do. And who could have guessed what it would do next? The same thing it has always done for the last twenty years. It didn¡¯t take long before the mind became restless and curious of what its body was doing. So it decided to take a little peek and once again, I was myself, standing inside an elevator, wearing a suit with my usual briefcase. So, I went to work again. Just like that, I moved on? The human mind had a funny way to deal with its suffering.


    ¡°Just do what you have always been doing and forget everything else!¡±


    ¡°Good morning, Camille!¡± I said to the secretary as I passed by her desk. Instead of replying to me, she just looked awkwardly at me with a shocking expression. I soon realized that she was not the only one in the room to be surprised by my presence. All of my colleagues, those who worked under me and my bosses, they were all shocked with me being here. From the whispering crowd, a fat man with a familiar face approached me. I knew him. He was my branch director, one rank above me in the company.


    ¡°Alphonse, why are you here?¡± asked my boss.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What? I thought Camille sent you an email about it.¡±


    ¡°What email? ¡­ I haven¡¯t been paying attention to the emails. I apologize.¡± It was true. I never checked my mails once ever since the accident. Maybe there was a meeting somewhere else I was supposed to be?


    ¡°Come in my office! We will talk there.¡±


    The fat man led me to his glass walled office and poured a glass of wine for me but not for himself. It was weird because our company forbid employees to consume any alcoholic substance during working time. I had a bad feeling about it but couldn¡¯t quite make out what it was. I decided to drink the glass of wine anyway.


    "My apologies, Alphonse. I should have taken care of this more subtly. Anyway, it is good that you are here. I actually prefer to do this face to face rather than by email. It is the least we could do for someone who has contributed so much for our company."


    It didn¡¯t take long for me to learn the news. Simply put, I was fired. I didn¡¯t come to work for a whole week and they needed someone else to take care of the deal with their partner company. Yet, the person in charge was me so certain actions required to be done. And the easiest would be to let me go.


    ¡°Again, my condolences for your losses! Despite how things turn out, we are grateful for your contribution to our company after all these years. I put a good word for you to the higher ups so you will be well compensated. In case you need any recommendation to another company, I can do that too. Maybe we can discuss in...another occasion.¡± The fat man said as he opened the door of his office, waiting. What a move to ask someone to leave!


    I didn¡¯t even need to take my stuff away. They have already taken everything and sent them all to my home. Passing by my old desk, I saw another youngster in his early thirties or something, cheerfully discussing with those I once called friends. I was shocked. I didn¡¯t expect for them to just forget about me this quickly. I did remember seeing a few faces at the funeral but none of them were people I was close with. So they all ditched me for this new guy. All these years, apparently, I was the only one who thought them as friends. Unable to watch the scene anymore, I rushed out of the office, leaving everything behind, my job, my reputation.


    For the first time in years, I felt so lost. Before, everything I did, it was for my family. Now, what was the goal of my existence anymore? For what reasons should I keep this miserable life of mine? We humans were not so complicated as we made it appear so. In fact, everything could be quite simple if one looked at their own actions and the impact of their circumstances on them. At that time, I was desperate, in search for a new goal, the purpose to justify my existence to the world so that I could continue to live, my raison d''¨ºtre.


    People tended to overestimate themselves, thinking us humans as a superior race far beyond the animals living around us. But in reality, the beasts and us were not so different from each other, if not worse for us. Facing any imminent threat, it was within our basic primal instinct to try fighting back and survive, not so different from a cornered animal. But what if the threat was ourselves? What if the mind could not find any reason for it to continue on living? How would it react then? Some brave spirits managed to move on and found a new reason to live. In some cases, it usually ended up with them taking their own lives. Others became insane, unable to cope with reality. But there was another category that was a mixture of the ones mentioned. It was actually very simple if you thought about it. Because there was no reason to live, our brain decided to make one for ourselves so we could cling onto it. And amongst the many possible ropes, one stood out as the strongest drive to survive: hatred.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    This was where things started to become a little hectic. In my mind, I started to shift the blame onto that reckless driver that caused the accident. To me, it was simple logic. Have he not caused it, my family would still be alive today. I would still have my job and my status. If anyone was to be blamed in this story, it was him. And oh boy, how it was so easy to shift the blame onto someone else. Things that were not there began to link to each other in my mind. Somehow, they all made sense to me. But I was not one of those unruly bastards who thought themselves as above the law. Our society had rules and the hammer of justice would fall onto those who wronged the innocent. I must retain my sanity. I must remain myself. That was what I told myself.


    Thinking about it, why was that I have not heard anything from the police? From their tone, they seemed to have caught the driver immediately at the scene. Shouldn¡¯t there be a prosecutor or some sort of trial to judge him? Shouldn¡¯t they invite me to the hearing? Back then I was na?ve. I didn¡¯t know that there was a lot of things that I didn¡¯t know about. I didn¡¯t claim to be all knowing of course. I was just a simply salaryman. But I have always prided myself in knowing a few other things than the common people. Either they were from books or on the net, I was always the curious type to research things I was not aware of but may prove to be beneficial to myself. Yet, knowing it and experiencing it yourself were not the same. Sometimes, I wished I knew that before learning it through the hard way.


    As the elevator went down to the ground floor, my head began to hurt. Was I thinking too much? Or could it be the wine from earlier? Nah, impossible. It was just one glass of red wine. I could have tolerated ten times that amount. Still, my vision started to become blurry. Things became hazy afterwards. I didn''t remember much what happened exactly or how I ended up lying on my bed that night. It was weird because I went out in the morning and the next thing I knew, the sun has already long set down. Did I pass out? Then how did I end up home? Maybe it was just my instinct kicking in and my body remembered the way home. After all, it has always walked the same route every day for the last decade. Anyway, I was tired so I decided to go back to sleep, ignoring what transpired.


    The next day, I went to the police station and met with the detective in charge of the case. What I learnt however shocked me. There was never any case in the first place. The driver, who apparently was just a youngster, was bailed out through some shady connections and the case was scratched off the records before it even reached the prosecutor¡¯s office. The only thing that showed the records was just a car accident with the car having some faulty wires and that the driver drove recklessly, which was absurd. I put a complaint immediately but was met with little resistance from the detective. The guy too shared the same opinion about the case. However, the problem was that the culprit of this case was the son of some big shot. Using their influence, his crime was wiped out as if it never existed. He didn¡¯t even show up in the records of the accident, like he was never there in the first place. What a bull of crap!


    I have always thought those rich bastards were the corrupted ones of our society. However, the story on the news, to me, was just like any other story. Supposedly, it would never happen to me. I have always assumed so, until now. How funny it was for the same thing to come back and bite me for it! I have always taken for granted what I had, taking a bystander¡¯s position and doing nothing. Was it my curse? Was it because of it that I was being punished?


    I was frustrated at my own powerlessness. I wanted to scream in the middle of the streets, cursing those who have wronged me. Yet, here I was, unable to do anything. There was an invisible me that stopped me from doing so. No, nothing could possibly stop me from shouting right here. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. But the consequences of my actions, that was what I was afraid of. That was the chains that halted me from my freedom. The bonds I shared with other people. The affections I held. The family I loved so much and had responsibilities to. The job I must retain. The laws I must respect. Those were the chains I was bound to. But guess what, most of them were already gone. The one thing remaining was the law. I wanted to break free. Yet, I didn¡¯t. What would happen to me if it was gone? Would I still be myself anymore? The answer to that frightened me.


    But so did the burning desire of hatred inside me. I could not forgive the bastard that killed my family. Not only was he not dead, he now was walking free without being afraid of the consequences of his actions? To hell with that! I refused to let things end this way. That fucker had to pay for what he did. That, I swore.


    ¡°AAAA!¡± a female scream echoed from the street, waking me up from my thoughts. Curious of what happened, I decided to go and see. A woman was injured from a motorcycle while crossing the street. The light was clearly red for the driver and yet the guy insisted on going. Luckily for the woman, she was only lightly bruised with a few scratches here and there. But what shocked was not the degree of the incident but the attitude of that biker who looked like a gang member with his spikes on his leather clothes and skull faces imprinted on his jacket.


    ¡°Hey, what the hell are you doing?¡± a bystander helped the woman gathering the stuff she dropped. However, he was met with a punch to the face by another biker. Shit, there were actually two other menacing looking gangsters bike right behind the fucker.


    ¡°Fucker, get lost!¡± the biker spoke out angrily. He was more concerned about his stupid bike on whether if it was scratched or not. ¡°You are lucky, bitch. My bike is still fine. If not, who knows what will happen to you¡­¡± The biker glared at the woman who quickly lowered her head to avoid his stare. ¡°Lucky for you, I am in a hurry. Watch where you are going next time, you stupid bitch!¡± And he drove away, leaving only the awful smoke from his bike behind.


    Did this kind of thing happen often? Surprisingly, yes. Did the police do anything to help with the problems? It depended on whether or not the bastard in question was related to any big shot. A situation like mine where the powerful could do whatever they wanted without any consequence was not uncommon. There was no need to search faraway. Right within my company, the situation was practically the same. But I have never paid attention to these sorts of things. From the office to the daily streets I walked by, nothing has changed. It was not that I was ignorant about it. Only because my mind chose to ignore them. Why worry about other people¡¯s problems while you already had much on your plate? I was never a victim myself, always succumb to pressure from the higher ups the instant they asked so I managed to avoid the unnecessary attention. But now that I was a victim, my vision began to change.


    These kinds of injustice, they were everywhere, literally. They took place anytime, anyplace. I remembered from the movies I watched with my daughter about a black cape superhero who punished the criminals, yet never resorted to murder. In a way, he stayed true to himself by refusing to lower himself to them. That kind of hero was the person our society needed right now, but not the person we deserved. The mass spent their time in blessed ignorance, just like I did. As long as it didn¡¯t concern them, they would not lift a finger to help a stranger. I knew that feeling well. Unfortunately, we didn¡¯t have those superheroes in real life to punish the evildoers. Even if there was, I doubted they would be so saintly to not simply kill the criminals themselves. Heck, even our police was so incompetent, unable to do anything even though they knew who the culprit was.


    I clenched my teeth as I thought about how those fuckers could just do whatever the fuck they wanted. But wait, this was the same thing I have done in my entire life. Sure, demonstrating my anger was a small step up from a cold bystander but aside from that, nothing has changed. That was it if I stayed idle like I have always done. At the time, my unstable mind was whispering something to me. It was so small like the breezy wind that flew through the night. But it did say something, something only I could hear. A calling it was, my calling.


    I gave off a creepy smile to myself in the middle of the street, scaring out the onlookers. That was it. Why did I not think of it sooner? Was I really that blind this whole time? I meant, the solution was so simple.


    ¡°If justice cannot deliver itself, then let someone be the holder of the hammer of justice and strike them down!¡±


    The question was who could bear this responsibility. I didn¡¯t take long to figure it out. Such a person would need not to be afraid of losing anything. Someone brave or someone who has already lost everything, like myself. I held my face tightly from the illumination I received as I smiled maniacally. I cared not for the laws of our society. They were disappointing and useless anyway. They let me down when I needed them, despite me having followed them all these years. I shall become the wielder of that hammer and the deliverer of justice. I shall become the judge and the executioner. And for the celebration of my rebirth, I chose that biker as the first sacrifice. So began my story!

 Chapter 3: Alphonse - Turnabout

    Chapter 3: Alphonse - Turnabout


    The internet was such a useful tool, probably the best invention of our century. You practically had access to the entire world¡¯s archives of knowledge that have been assembled for centuries, all within the grasp of a few clicks on a computer screen. Not to mention how easy and fast it was to share information with someone on the other side of the world. The best part of all was that it was free.


    Back at home, I tried to search for the biker I saw the day before. He looked like the sort of guy who belonged to a gang, the rotten fruits of our society. The problem was I didn¡¯t know his name or any personal information on him so it would be quite difficult to punish him. But it didn¡¯t take long for me to find him. The skull on his leather jacket was the big giveaway. And I was in luck. There was an online article from a tabloid that depicted his photo. According to the article, the guy was the boss of a small recently formed biker gang in the south of the city and was known for causing a lot of troubles in that area, ranging from robbery and drug dealings. But the scale of his organization was too small for the police to even care about him. In short, an easy target for a first timer like me. Which would be what I wished to say but¡­


    Anyway, how should I make him pay for his crimes? Truth to be told, I had no idea just yet. I may have said this and that but I have never done anything like this so I had no idea where to start. Either way, I thought about stalking him for a while in order to find out more about his crimes, his weaknesses then decided what to do later. Depending on how things went, I might stumble across something. Justice took time. The more we waited, the more satisfying it was in the end.


    Little did I know back then, that was one of the stupidest things I have ever thought of. Without any concrete plan, I decided to follow a gangster in hope of finding something. What could possibly be stupider than that?


    But there were a few things I needed to take care of before beginning my mission. I have received a letter from our lawyer concerning some paperwork after the death of my wife and child. There seemed to be an urgent matter but the lawyer didn¡¯t say anything clearly so I had to pass by his office today to take care of it. Secondly, my ex-company has finally sent back my stuff, along with a check of ten thousand dollars for compensation. Such a measly amount for twenty years of dedications! So that was all I was worth to them. After how they treated me, I was not even surprised. And yet, despite how disgusted I was with their money, I couldn¡¯t just tear that paper apart. Now unemployed, I had no source of income, which would prove to be crucial should I pursue this plan of mine. Reluctantly, I put the crumbed check in my pocket, knowing I would need it in the future.


    I realized that I didn¡¯t have that much cloth to begin with. Well, there were quite a lot in numbers but they all had that same look of an office employee: basic white shirt and black suit. It was a little windy today so I added a brown long overcoat and a pair of black leather gloves just in case it turned out to be colder. My wife bought it for me on our last anniversary, saying it would change a bit from my usual outfit of black and white. Truthfully, I didn¡¯t take it made that much of a difference but her thought was more than welcomed. As I closed the buttons of the coat in front of the mirror at the entrance of our home, I saw a woman¡¯s silhouette behind me, helping me to wear it. To me, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She used to flatten all the wrinkles of the coat, wrapping down that collar which I always forgot. But now she was gone.


    I felt cold, despite wearing all these clothing. I missed her warmth, her touch. Still, I knew no matter how much I prayed or how much I begged, I wouldn¡¯t be able to see her anymore. I wondered what she would say to me if she knew what I decided to do. What was I doing this for? For me or for her? We humans claimed to do a lot of things in name of the dead. The funeral, the prayers. But for who exactly did we do all those things for? I was never the religious type so perhaps my opinion differed a lot from others. But when you really thought about it, those ceremonies were only for us, the living. So that we could say our goodbyes, so that we could let go of our grief. After all, the dead didn¡¯t talk, didn¡¯t mourn. They didn¡¯t feel anything because they were already dead.


    With heavy thoughts, I set out to the lawyer¡¯s office. It would be better to just finish it and leave it out of the way.


    ¡°Good morning, Mr. Alphonse! Please, take a seat!¡± The lawyer opened the door for me. ¡°Thank you for coming today! Before we begin, my condolences for your loss! How are you holding up?¡± I noticed something strange in the lawyer¡¯s behavior. In the past, I have encountered a few legal problems and it was this guy who solved them for me. He was rather crude when dealing with poor customers like me. While I hated to admit it, for the price he asked, he was good at his job, with ninety percent winning rate. Yet, that same man was here in front of me, speaking to me in such a polite way I found it a little creepy considering how long I have known him. He even asked if I wanted some tea, which was unheard of. What changed him all of the sudden?


    ¡°I can manage it. Thank you for asking! So why did you want to see me? I thought all the paperwork were already done.¡± I asked the lawyer.


    ¡°Most of them, yes. But there is one more thing. It is about the life-insurance policy to which your wife and child are subscribed.¡± Said the lawyer.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°What life insurance?¡± I inquired startlingly.


    ¡°Are you telling me you don¡¯t know?¡± the lawyer opened his eyes questionably.


    ¡°No. I¡­I am not aware of any life insurance. I mean...There must be some sort of mistakes. None of us in my family have any life insurance. It is too damn expensive.¡± I said.


    ¡°Well, I have the documents right here.¡± The lawyer took out a dossier. ¡°On the first page, both the names of the two misses are there, aren¡¯t they?¡± He handed me the paper.


    As he said it, there were really the names of my wife and daughter on what appeared to be a contract of life-insurance. When did this happen? I certainly was not aware of this and my wife would have told me something like this. I meant, who would put a life insurance on a child? Shocked by the news, I just sat there, motionless as I tried to figure out if I have missed something in recent memories. But no, no one has told me about this before.


    ¡°I have checked with the insurance company. Everything is in order. It might be disrespectful of me to say this but congratulations, sir! You are entitled to ten million dollars.¡±


    ¡°WHAT?¡± I jumped from my seat.


    The lawyer laughed at me. ¡°I know it is a shocking news. As your lawyer, even I was shocked to see such a thing.¡±


    ¡°But¡­but..how is it possible? I mean...can life insurance be that much?¡± I questioned.


    ¡°Indeed, ten million dollars is a lot of money for a life-insurance policy. Even for two persons. But it is what it is. The paper is authentic. The insurance company has also checked out. I have gone through every clause and found nothing suspicious. It is real. According to the insurance company, the money should arrive in your bank account within a few hours.¡±


    Ten million dollars. Even if I worked until the last day of my life, I would never get that amount of money. No, gathering all the money I could possibly make my entire life would not even be half of it. How could I be oblivious to this? The only person who could do this was my wife. But if then, why didn¡¯t she tell me anything?


    What the lawyer said eventually turned out to be true. Later that day, I received a bank notice and checked my account from the computer at home. Out of nowhere, ten million dollars, just like that, appeared on the latest entry. I was left speechless, just staring like an idiot at the screen for an hour or so. When I was poor, penniless, there was a lot I wanted to do, things I wanted to buy. But now that I had the money, I didn¡¯t know what to do with it. How funny life worked! Or perhaps, it was I who no longer desired those things. A large beautiful house instead of that small apartment? A luxurious car instead of that old thing? Travels across the world instead of simply local picnic? I longed for those because I believed they would make my life happier, my family happier. But now that they were gone, why would I need them anymore?


    Strangely, the more I looked at those zeroes, the angrier I got. Somehow, it reminded me of the rich bastard who killed my wife and child. Of course, there were plenty of other bastards who abused their money and power. They thought they could toy with us common folk as much as they wanted. I would show them how it felt like¡­one way or another.


    Now that I had the proper funding for my campaign, it was time to make the necessary preparations. After consulting a few online webpages, I set up to find that biker from the day before. The article talked about an alley in the southern district where he hanged out a lot. As I made my way there on the train, I wondered why I chose this man as my first target. There was no shortage of injustice everywhere I went. I could have simply picked a weaker opponent. But I didn¡¯t. Perhaps the incident with him reminded me of what happened to my family. It was because of reckless bastards like him that spilled the blood of the innocents. Have it been a car, that woman could have ended up dead.


    ¡°We have arrived at Brookrows! Mind the gap between the train and the platform!¡±


    Exiting the station, I headed for the location designated in the tabloid. And there he was, that biker, standing against the wall with his tough looking buddies. They all seemed like college students, reminding me of my school time. Unlike them though with their weeds and pots, I spent the entire time studying. I never went to a party, even the ones organized by the school. I was never the type to go out a lot, except when I really had to. Back then, seeing my classmates going out every night, I wondered how they could even have time to study. I looked down on them at first, thinking they were wasting their youths in those trivial activities. Yet, here I was, a simple office employee just like any other while my classmates have become the boss of their own firms. Just what exactly did I sacrifice my entire youth for?


    As I contemplated about my past, a rough voice struck me. ¡°What the hell are you looking at, old man?¡± I rose my head suddenly, fearing if my cover has been blown. It was indeed the biker who talked but it was not directed at me. ¡°You again, asshole?¡± The biker grabbed a suspicious looking man with sun glasses by his collar even though it was evening.


    ¡°Wait wait. You are mistaken. I..I don¡¯t know you.¡± the strange man said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking lie to me! I know your face. You are that reporter who wrote about me on the net, ain¡¯t ya?¡± The biker punched the guy in the face, making him fall down against the wall. ¡°Fucking paparazzi. You don¡¯t really know your place huh you piece of shit?¡± The biker stomped on the poor guy who could only curl up defending his head. The other gangsters soon joined beating up the reporter.


    These kids were freaking nuts. They dared hitting people despite having so many people around. Yet, none tried to confront. To my own regrets, I understood their reasons. No one would want to be involved with these kinds of things. What if the bikers were associated with some sort of criminal organization? What if they tried to take revenge on them? In my own personal experience, no common salaryman would dare to do such a thing. Coward they might be, but I had no right to judge them. I too was a part of that mass, living their days while ignoring the suffering of others, sometimes even sacrificing their happiness for our own. It was something far too common in not just our society but the world.


    However, things have changed. I was at this time a changed man, different from my past self. I could do it. I told myself so.


    ¡°Stop right there!¡± A brave man shouted from the standing crowd. It was me. It was time for me to abandon my weak past self and to embrace my new self.


    Though sometimes, bravery and stupidity were two sides of the same coin. It was so easy to mistake one for the other.


    ¡°Shut up!¡±


    The angry answer was accompanied by a heavy punch, blowing me away to the ground next to the reporter earlier. It hurt like hell. I felt like I have broken a tooth. Lying on the ground, I tried to stand up but a boot stomped onto my head, smashing it to the damp floor. My skin grazed itself against the rough cement below, scratching it lightly as the pressure on my head increased.


    ¡°Who the hell do you think you are, HUH?¡± The raging biker shouted loudly, scaring the bystanders. As for me, needless to say, I almost pissed myself.


    ¡°Your worst nightmare!¡± was what I wanted to say but unfortunately it didn¡¯t happen. I missed my chance there. Ever since I saw it on a movie, I have always wanted to say it out loud. But when the time came, not a single sound came out of the opening on my face. Besides, saying that while being stomped by the person you were talking to didn¡¯t quite have the same feel as the scene I saw in that movie.


    After suffering a few more kicks to the guts, the bikers quickly retreated upon hearing the sound of sirens approaching. Whoever called the police, I thanked you.

 Chapter 4: Walter - Redemption

    Chapter 4: Walter - Redemption


    Standing on the roof of the Metropolitan Police Department¡¯s headquarters, I took out my old lighter and lit my cigarette. Nothing beat a 555 roll in a cold night such as this one. One of the few benefits of working in a twenty-stories building stuffed with more than a thousand men and women was this great view you got from here. Although, it remained just a great view with colorful neon tubes lighting up all night. All those shiny sparkling luminescence however served only as a lid that covered this hell hole. When the sun came down, awful things spawned in the dark. The streets were filled with drugs. Gang members took out each other like flies, more than often involving innocent citizens. Meanwhile, the rich and the politicians were all corrupted to the core, caring only about their power and dirty money. Truly, staying in the streets for too long left a bad taste in your mouth.


    My name was Walter Goodman, a detective of the MPD. I have worked in this line of work for more than twenty years now and nonetheless, I never managed to get rid of that foul taste. There was never a shortage of crimes. No matter what the media said, we never ran out of them. I supposed it was unavoidable in a big city such as this one. We did our best to contain it. But despite our efforts, it just kept coming back, one way or another. After a while, it did make one wonder if what they did actually made a difference. Because I for one saw nothing has changed. On the contrarily, I believed it was getting worse and worse. It was like seeing a car without brake just keep accelerating, knowing for certain that somewhere down that road was a dead end. I wondered if such an end was close. For we sure were moving fast. Maybe we should just crush into that wall. That might be a better alternative.


    The door to the roof opened behind me. A familiar face walked out. Wearing a suit with a tie, this man used to be the best police officer on the field we had in this city. Now, with him as commissioner, I somehow just couldn¡¯t see the same light he had in the old days. Maybe it was because of his big belly? Or maybe his grey hair took the spotlight? Whatever it was, he surely gained some weight in recent years.


    ¡°Still gazing the stars, Walter?¡± the commissioner asked.


    ¡°I am sorry, sir. Just want to take a small break.¡± I said.


    ¡°No don¡¯t worry! I know you have a lot in your mind¡­.after what happened to¡­¡±


    ¡°Please don¡¯t talk about it.¡± I insisted, almost yelled out. ¡°It¡­is in the past.¡±


    ¡°¡­You got to put yourself together, son. There are people depending on you.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. I will keep that in mind.¡± I gave a formal answer. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you are here to gaze the stars with me too, sir?¡±


    ¡°Ohoho, of course not. I wish I can but I got to meet the mayor soon. He has been rather¡­impatient these days.¡± The commissioner said tiredly.


    ¡°Is it about the case? ¡­ about him?¡± I asked him reluctantly. In my mind, I already knew it was.


    ¡°It is nothing you should worry about. I got this. You just do what you have to do. Actually, I came here because of this.¡± The commissioner brought out a dossier.


    I quickly checked out the contents. It contained the details of a man named Connor Smith. I didn¡¯t recognize the face. Who was he? I didn¡¯t remember seeing him in the list of suspects on related to any of the cases I was handing at the time.


    ¡°Who is this? A suspect?¡± I asked.


    ¡°No no! Don¡¯t be rude! He is going to be your partner.¡± The commissioner asked.


    ¡°What? But¡­.¡±


    ¡°I know what you are going to say. But it has been a month since then. We need a new detective. You need a new partner!¡± the commissioner asserted. ¡°Look, I know you don¡¯t like it. But just go see him! He was recommended to me through some pretty high channels and his profile is very top notch. I think we can expect a lot from him. Just give him a try!¡±


    ¡°¡­.Alright boss! Whatever you say.¡± I conceded.


    ¡°That is what I want to hear. He is waiting for you in your office downstairs.¡±


    ¡°On my way, boss!¡±


    It was no use trying to fight him. The man still had that tenacity in him. Besides, I was not in the mood of a debate. Returning to my office, I saw a young man in his early thirties, all uptight sitting in the chair in front of my desk. Seeing me entering the room, he stood up and saluted me.


    ¡°Hello Mr. Walter, is it?¡± the young man asked.


    ¡°Yes. You would be Connor, Connor Smith right? Take a seat! Want some coffee?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°That would be great. Thank you!¡±


    As I prepared the coffee, I started to observe him. The short black hair was kept neatly with gel, reminding me of those salesmen rather than a police officer. The new black suit and brand new blue tie suggested he only bought them recently. I could even see the uncut tag on the collar. Just how clumsy was this guy? A silver watch on his wrist, one that looked quite expensive. In his resume I read earlier, the names of some famous law schools were mentioned, all with good grades. From first glance, I already knew his type. I was pretty sure that he was kin of some bigwig, probably from the Justice Department or something similar. He probably wanted to add some field experience, making the CV look better in order to get a promotion of some sort. I meant, what else could those slender arms of his be going to do? I would rather have him in the office than on the field.


    ¡°Is there something wrong? I notice that you have been staring at me for a while now.¡± Connor spoke with a smile.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Was I now? Sorry, just old habits die hard.¡±


    ¡°Is that one of those detective¡¯s instincts?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. When you spent years in this job, you started to pay attention to everything around you. Sometimes, they could save your life you know.¡±


    ¡°¡­pay attention to everything around you¡­¡± Connor took out a small notebook and wrote down something. I could hear him repeating softly what I just told him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­you are writing down what I just said???¡± I shouted at him.


    ¡°But of course! As my senior, you have plenty of experiences so I should take note of what you have to say. So paying attention is the first lesson right?¡± Connor finished writing down.


    ¡°For God¡¯s sake¡­this is beyond me.¡± I was taken back. I knew he was nerdy type but to this extent¡­This was going to be a lot harder than I expected.


    *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*


    One of my colleagues opened the door and pocked his head inside. ¡°Am I disturbing you?¡±


    ¡°Nah it¡¯s fine. What is it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°We got a call about a fight in downtown Brookrows.¡±


    ¡°Is that those guys again?¡±


    ¡°From the description of the witness, yep, it is those bikers again.¡±


    ¡°Was there any death?¡± I inquired.


    ¡°No but two citizens were assaulted. Apparently, the kids picked a fight with one of the reporters that were following them. The second citizen tried to help the reporter but got beat up as well.¡±


    ¡°It is nothing major then. Just send them home! Also call the other police department! Tell them about the biker gang. It is about damn time we put them in jail.¡± I said. The number of assaults in this city was already of the charges. If you started taking care each and every one of them, there would be no end to them. The only thing we could do was to solve the root of the problem, meaning going after the attackers themselves. Unfortunately, in these cases, that could prove to be more troublesome.


    ¡°Will do¡­And I think you probably want to speak with one of the victims.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Remember the accident a few days back? The case with the mother and child who died in the car accident?¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Well, the husband of the deceased is actually the victim in this case.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡­¡± I remembered that case. I was in charge of it. Officially, it was never called a case, only an accident. Though I knew better than that. The more I thought about it, the more irritable I felt. The official report said that it was the mother¡¯s fault that caused the incident. The impact caused the car to derail before it exploded, killing both the mother and child. But the truth was not that. There was actually another driver who tried to pass a red light and hurled into her car. Naturally, we got the real culprit red handed. But unfortunately for us, he was related to a very powerful political figure of the government. As much I wanted to deny it, our society was not perfect. On the opposite, it was rotten to the core. That bastard basically got free all thanks to the orders of the higher ups. I wanted to do something but there was nothing I could do. Could you imagine it? How hard it was for me to tell the family that there was nothing I could do? But I was not the one with the shortest stick. It was him, the husband who was also a father. He lost everything and he couldn¡¯t even get justice.


    I deliberately gave the information to the husband without consulting my superior. If words got out that I told him that, I would surely lose my badge. However, a part of me could not face him and tell him a blatant lie like that. Truthfully, I have hoped that he would give the information to the press and hopefully it would turn into a story. But I knew the chances were slim. There was no evidence left. Everything either was erased or destroyed. The witnesses have withdrawn their testimonies out the of blue. I believed they were either threatened or bribed with money in exchange for their silence. Whoever was behind it must be very influential. Every day since, I watched the news, waiting for it to come. But none whatsoever. Perhaps it happened like I thought I would. Or the husband himself never told anybody about the case. I would not blame him though. He must have realized by now how desperate it was to seek justice for his family. It might be wrong for a police officer, an upholder of the law like me to say this but it was best for him to just move on and forget about everything that happened.


    But who could actually forget this? Who could just forsake everything they had and just moved on? That was why I said it was him who got the shortest stick.


    ¡°I will go talk to him.¡± I told my colleague.


    ¡°Sure. I will let him wait in the interrogation room.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have any better room? That room is gloomy as hell.¡± I said.


    ¡°Sorry! Already out of rooms!¡± And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.


    ¡° *sigh* Can you wait for me in here for a few minutes? I got to talk with one of the witnesses.¡± I told Connor.


    ¡°Let me accompany you, sir!¡± He said excitedly. ¡°Interrogating a criminal is also a part of the job after all.¡±


    ¡°We are not interrogating a criminal here. He is the victim here. I just had a few questions for him. That is all.¡± Already five minutes with this guy and my patience was running out, very quickly. ¡°Just be quiet, alright?¡±


    ¡°Of course, sir!¡± He saluted me, putting his hand in front of his forehead.


    ¡°We are not the military! Stop doing that!¡± That was it. Tomorrow, I would tell the chief to let go of this douche bag. If he didn¡¯t kill himself, he certainly would get someone else killed, which would be me in this case.


    The interrogation room, like its name suggested, was used to interrogate the suspects or criminals in case. There was nothing in there but a table and a desk lamp in there. I remembered we used to play the good cop bad cop with a lot of the felons. Most of them broke in the end and admitted their crimes. But those who didn¡¯t, they were a real hassle to deal with. Serial killers, psychopaths, these guys didn¡¯t even flinch when they killed someone. They didn¡¯t even feel guilty about it. I had a handful of those in my entire career. Suffice to say, I wouldn¡¯t want to meet another one of those. Sick bastards really, they were the scums of society. But even they were not the worst of the bunch. There was another type whom I could never really understand how such an individual could be birthed in our era.


    Usually, most of the criminals we got in this city were forced one way in or another in this situation. Robbery, murder, they all had a reason. Whether these reasons were acceptable or not was another debate. But they all knew that what they did was wrong. That was why they were so afraid of getting caught. But the type of people I mentioned earlier, they didn¡¯t. Somehow, they managed to convince themselves that what they were doing was right. No, I was not talking about some insane madman. Unlike those, these people were smart, extremely cunny and organized. Somehow, their morality compass has been so twisted I couldn¡¯t figure out how they thought. Usually, these people would simply be branded lunatic and put inside some god forsaken asylum till the end of their lives with never really knowing why they were put there in the first place.


    To be honest, I couldn¡¯t help but pity them. In their own world, they were not wrong. But unfortunately, this world of ours was not theirs. We had our own laws, our own ethics, our own morality and they could not coexist with theirs. The current justice system could not help but branding them insane, deranged. No one wanted to open that door. If we started to judge people based on their own morality, it would become hell.


    Anyway, enough of side talking. I entered the interrogation via the surveillance room which shared the same door. A glass wall allowed us to see the individual inside the interrogation room without enabling them to see us. From here, I could see a thin middle-aged man in his long brown overcoat, sitting tightly while looking down at the desk. He had that same insecure look I saw when I first met him. I supposed it was to be expected if a supposed victim was suddenly put into an interrogation room. The poor guy probably didn¡¯t know what exactly happened. A medical patch was stuck to his cheek, along with a few bandages here and there. This guy really got some of the worst lucks I have seen.


    Opening the door, I entered, followed closely by the goofy supposed partner.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to see you again after our last exchange, Mr. Graves.¡± I said.


    ¡°You are that detective¡­Mr¡­Goodman was it?¡± He seemed clearly surprised seeing me.


    ¡°Yes, but you can call me Walter. So Mr. Graves, how have you been doing?¡± I asked


    ¡°Oh¡­hum please call me Alphonse¡­.I don¡¯t suppose I can say everything is fine at this fine¡­haha¡­ha¡­¡± The guy tried to force a smile but his injuries didn¡¯t let him so.


    ¡°I can understand why. You are in a very difficult time and¡­.¡± But I was interrupted by him.


    ¡°No you don¡¯t.¡± For a moment, Alphonse had a very serious look, almost as if he wanted to burst out. But when he noticed my bewilderment, that harsh aura disappeared and he retreated back to his insecure self. ¡°Sorry¡­.I¡­¡±


    I certainly did not expect to see him like this, especially seeing how he reacted in our last conversation. At the time, I didn¡¯t know what to make out of it. I thought simply maybe he just had enough of it. I certainly could not blame him for feeling that way. The guy lost his family for such a stupid prick and that prick got free. He would never get his justice.


    All these years, I did my best to uphold the laws and justice. I was proud of myself for being one of the clean cops. It was not easy to do so. Sometimes you ended up fighting with your own boss and losing your job. As for me, I almost lost my badge a few times but thankfully the commissioner got my back. But even he, as the head of the MPD, was not able to do everything. Even now, I knew there were some corrupted cops right in our department, perhaps sitting right next to me. But without any concrete evidence, anything I did would just end up with me as the victim.


    Despite that despair, the case of this lonely man sparked something within me, a fire I thought to be long extinguished. No longer would I run away from this kind of treachery anymore. I swore that I would solve his case and brought back justice to his family. They deserved it. And that was not all. I would do it for him to, my old partner.


    After talking a while with nothing new, I decided to send the husband home. He was of no use to anyone in his state. The only thing I could do for him now was to solve his case. That was it. No comforting words would do it. The night ended peacefully, just like any other.


    Looking at his back as he exited the station, I hoped that the guy would soon be able to return to his normal life. It was however a na?ve thought, one that could never come true. Little did I know at the time, it was but the calm before the storm. A string of disturbing events was about to start and break the illusionary peace of our city. And of all things to happen, like a raging vortex of malice, everything revolved around that man.

 Chapter 5: Walter - Bloody return

    Chapter 5: Walter - Bloody return


    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± I uttered in shock the moment my eyes laid on the crime scene.


    I had a bad feeling when I received a call from central command asking me to go down to a particular crime scene. At the time, I didn¡¯t expect much. There was not much to go on after all aside from a single call about a missing person. Like usual, they only told us what to do and cared not about giving us the reason for it. I knew full well what side they were on as well as where I stood. Perhaps it was because of that that they, to say the least, were not very fond of me taking the call. Nonetheless, we all had protocols to follow and despite their tone, I had a hunch, maybe a detective¡¯s instinct.


    But all my years of experience in criminal investigation did not prepare me enough for this. The landlord of the block said that one of her tenants has yet paid their monthly due. Furthermore, there was no answer from her apartment. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t have a spare key and the tenants of the apartment were not exactly your friendly neighbor type so she decided to call the police just in case some force needed to be involved. Furthermore, none of the neighbors reported seeing them coming out their room for the last few days, which made it even weirder. Having a bad feeling about this, me and my colleagues along with Connor decided to open the door by force. What we saw inside surpassed all our expectations.


    The word ¡°HE¡± was arranged the floor. But more than just a bloody message, it carried a much more terrifying significance. Its composition was nightmarish. It was formed by using dismembered body parts of the tenants. The floor below was stained with the crimson fluid, leaking from the cut limbs.


    ¡°What the hell happened here?¡± I asked myself in disbelief.


    ¡°Hey boss what is¡­.!!! Arggg! *Vomit* ¡° Connor vomited immediately at the sight of the scene. This was supposed to be his first time on the field so I expected he wasn¡¯t used to seeing corpses. But I wouldn¡¯t blame him. Not even the most veteran cop could hold himself and expect to walk out of here like nothing ever happened. In our line of work, it took more than just guts to maintain our sanity from all the sickening things we saw every day. Some managed to do that. Some didn¡¯t and ended up quitting their job. But no matter where they went, no matter what they did, those images would never disappear. It would stick in their mind till the end of their life. But what about those like me who got used to it? In exchange for that, what did we lose in return? I still remembered my first time on the field. It wasn¡¯t that much different from Connor, aside from the vomiting part. But I couldn¡¯t stomach it. My partner, however, who was in the field a few years before me, was completely fine. But perhaps just like me right now, he only looked that way. More accurately, he didn¡¯t feel enough to display it like I did. Little by little, crime after crime, I became like him too. Today, I just took something like this in a stride, like it was nothing. Perhaps with each crime, with each death, a part of me died along with it.


    ¡°Go out, Connor! You are not prepared for this.¡± I told the poor guy.


    ¡°Beurgg¡­ho¡­ho¡­I ¡­.am okay boss.¡± Connor forced a smile as he wiped away the fluid on his face. He might be a fool but at least he got the guts, I would give him that.


    ¡°If you are staying, wear the gloves! Don¡¯t disturb anything until the forensic team comes!¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir!¡±


    It took us nearly half an hour to gather them and to reassemble them. From our discovery, we found a total of two bodies, one adult male and one female. The cause of death, needless to say, was fairly obvious without a need for a post-mortem exam. A closer examination of the corpses showed that the cuts were clean, almost too clean. I could hardly imagine it was done by any normal weapon. Not even a katana could make this kind of cut as even the bones were slashed neatly. In addition, it must have also happened pretty fast. The walls in this apartment were quite thin. I could easily hear the woman next door talking. So if there was any struggle, the neighbors should have heard it. However, based on what we obtained from the questioning, no one heard a thing. Even if we assumed the killer was someone they knew, taking out two people in such a short amount of time without any struggle required skill, very good skill. Definitely not something just about anyone could have. Perhaps the culprit killed both of them then cut them later? That could explain the lack of noises.


    Suddenly, a thought came to me. How could I possibly forget it? These cuts, they looked just like those in those cases I have been following in the last few months. But if that was to be true and this was the same culprit, did it mean that that guy has finally returned? An eerie feeling suddenly took over me. I felt like this was not over just yet.


    ¡°Connor! CONNOR!¡± I shouted loudly.


    ¡°Yes, sir?¡± Connor rushed back inside, bringing the phone with him on his hand. It looked like he was talking to someone.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Call the commissioner! We got another case of that serial killer. We need to¡­.¡±


    ¡°Sir, you need to take this.¡± Connor interrupted me.


    ¡°WHAT?¡±


    ¡°It¡­¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t understand if you just mumble like an idiot. What is it?¡±


    ¡°I just told HQ about what we found here and they told me that they have just found two similar crime scenes just like these.¡±


    ¡°WHAT? Give me that!¡±


    As it turned out, I was right. The nightmare had yet to unveil its full self. Before we could even finish wrapping up the place, I received yet another call. Two more crime scenes have been found. Both of them involved multiple murders and dismemberment of the victim¡¯s bodies, just like the one I found. The only differences were the identities of the victims, the locations and the letters left behind using the body parts of the deceased. I have come directly to observe the other two locations. It was the same, that dark ominous aura that englobed those places. Based on what I have seen, I was fairly confident to conclude that all three murders were committed by the same person and with the same type of weapon too, perhaps even the same one as well. Of course, we still needed the results from the forensic team for proper evidence but I believed it was safe to assume such.


    The most mysterious piece of evidence left behind in these dismaying murders were the characters made from the bodies. In the first case, the letters ¡°H¡± and ¡°E¡± were found. In the second were double ¡°L¡± and in the third, ¡°O!¡±. It was rather easy to see what these words meant at first glance.


    ¡°HELLO!¡±


    Normally, I would have thought there had to be some kind of hidden message or meaning behind the obvious line. Maybe I had arranged the letters incorrectly. Perhaps that was why. Else, all these murders just to say a simple ¡°Hello¡±? No one could possibly be that crazy. I wished I was wrong about this.


    A string of mysterious murders involving a strange weapon capable of cutting people like nothing without leaving any evidence? My body trembled at the thought. This dreaded feeling I had, it was just like before. It was exactly like that case, the one that took the life of my partner. Rushing out of my desk, I went to see the commissioner. I slammed the door open, making a loud sound.


    ¡°Sir, it is him. He is back!¡± I said loudly.


    ¡°Settle down, Walter!¡± The old man scolded me, telling me with his big open eyes to look to the right. His office was twice as large as mine so he could welcome important guests should there be a need for it. I was too hot headed at the time to even realize the people in black suit sitting on the bench, on the opposite side of the commissioner. One was a woman with a black ponytail hairstyle while the other was a large stern looking guy with a scar across his left eye.


    ¡°My apologies! Should I come back later?¡± I asked apologetically, knowing I would get another scold later.


    ¡°Is he the one you have been talking about, commissioner Reed?¡± the woman asked.


    ¡°Yes. As you can see, he has a lot of energy in him. Sometimes I wonder if he got too much.¡± Reed sighed.


    ¡°¡­¡­¡± the man in black glanced at me, analyzing me from head to toe before turning back without saying a word.


    ¡°Still, he is the best detective we got. I believe he will be a great asset to you in this case.¡± Reed spoke as he looked at Walter.


    ¡°Commissioner, what are you talking about?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Walter, this is agent Eliza and Alexander.¡± The commissioner presented the couple as they shook their hands with me. ¡°They are from the FBI and starting from today, they will be working with you and Connor on the case.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± I quickly pulled my hands back. I still haven¡¯t forgotten about they screwed us police over last time. Coming here and taking over our operation, these arrogant bastards thought they ran the place and could do whatever they pleased. They fucked up big time, made us lose all clues to the killer. Now that they knew he came back, they wanted to do it again?


    Still, their presence here took me by surprise. It has only been a few hours since the discovery of the first case and they have already sent their hounds to our headquarters? I supposed that even the higher ups could not afford to avert their attention from this particular case. The gruesome murder of a few civilians was one thing. However, I was sure that it was the method of killing that caused this sudden rise of attention. After all, based on what I have seen, it was the same as the series of murders a few months ago...the same as his.


    During the first few weeks when it happened, it sent the entire nation on a frenzied wave, attracting a lot of attention. Even after dozens of murders, both the identity of the culprit and the murder weapon remained a mystery. The crime scenes were so chaotic, it was as if the killer didn¡¯t even bother to hide it but rather was using it as a message. Whoever they were, I was sure that they were not afraid of being caught or simply didn¡¯t give a single care for the crimes they committed.


    That was why the FBI finally intervened. They tried to lure him out. But they screwed up hard. In the end, it was my long time partner, someone who has been with me for ten years straight, who paid the price for their mistake. Thinking back, I was also to blame. I didn¡¯t even realize it. At the time, I was not able to contain my anger toward myself and them and let it show on my face.


    The woman stood up and approached me. ¡°Us at the FBI take this case very seriously. We may have gotten on the wrong foot last time but let us cooperate on solving this case together!¡± She said with a friendly smile on her face and extended her arm.


    ¡°¡­¡­¡± I stared at her hand and lifted up to her eyes. I knew their tricks far too well. I wouldn¡¯t back down from this.


    ¡°Now now I think that is enough for today. We have made introductions. That is important. I will arrange your desks next to Walter¡¯s office. Should be ready tomorrow. How about we call it a day here?¡± the commissioner proposed. I was a bit disappointed that he didn¡¯t take my side. He, better than me or anyone else, should know how frustrating it was to put all your efforts into investigating the cases, only to let someone else take over when you were so close to the end. He used to be the figure everyone aspired, the model of our department. But now, he was just like any of those officials, seeking compromises.


    Not wanting to stay in that room any longer, I stormed outside. Rather than dealing with all these bureaucratic craps, I preferred to actually do something in order to solve this case. But where to begin? Knowing not what to do, I decided to head to the forensic lab. It has been a few hours since then so hopefully, they might come up with something.


    ¡°So basically, nothing?¡± I said in a disappointed tone.


    ¡°I am afraid so. We still have not finished our test just yet but as far as I can tell, the weapon used in all three murders is the same type and probably the same weapon too.¡± The forensic expert said.


    ¡°What about the old case? Could they be committed by the same culprit?¡± I asked.


    ¡°That is difficult to say for sure.. But I am confident that the material is the same.¡±


    ¡°Material? What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°In both cases, the wounds were extremely clean. This shows that they were done in a very quick fashion through a singular attack. Not even the sharpest blade in the world can do that kind of You probably already know this from the last case since you were part of the investigating team but the skill and strength required for such task are exceptional. Your killer is not just your average guy out there. This person is very dangerous. Moreover, the murder weapon worries me, because I don¡¯t know any material that could create this kind of cut. You must be careful, detective.¡±


    ¡°For what?¡±


    ¡°For a person with this level of skills and resources, if it is indeed the same culprit as before, I doubt this will be the end of it.¡±

 Chapter 6: Alphonse - Dubious Confidant

    Chapter 6: Alphonse - Dubious Confidant


    I haven¡¯t changed at all. I said all that and still, I remained a pathetic loser. Back when I was facing that biker, if that could be called as such, I couldn¡¯t move. Even his voice alone was enough to shake me up. I thought I have made my decision. Did that mean that was just all talk? I clutched my hair, trying to pull them out with frustration.


    ¡°Hey there buddy!¡± A voice called out to me. A man in his fifties or so wearing a round hat and big nose in slightly oversized brown cloth showed himself. It was the reporter from earlier. Has he been waiting for me in front of the police station? ¡°I want to thank you for saving me earlier.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything.¡± I said to him. ¡°Instead, I got beat up without being able to do anything.¡± I dared not look up at him.


    ¡°Hohoho but you did. You were brave enough to shout at them. While you may not have beaten them up, it was the act that counted. As for me, it is thanks to your effort that they didn¡¯t hit me. In my view, you saved me from all those injuries.¡± He pointed at the bandages on my face. ¡°You are free after this? Want to grab a beer?¡±


    ¡°Well I¡­.¡± but before I could even answer, the man has dragged me away along with him.


    ¡°I take that as a yes. Let¡¯s go! I know a great place to drink.¡±


    Our destination was not far. It was actually right around the corners. A set of stairs led down to a red door shut tight one level below the ground. Have it been me, I would have never thought it was actually a bar. There was no sign and it remained quite hidden from the high street. The inside was actually bigger than I thought it was. Well, it was not exactly like those fancy clubs with hundreds of chairs but it was the perfect place for a small group of friends to hang on in a nice quiet place. Some jazz music played in the background, softening the atmosphere. The glasses were cleanly arranged behind the counter, along with the many brands of bottles. I haven¡¯t even sat down yet and already I liked the place. It somehow reminded me of where I proposed to my wife back in the past.


    It was in this same kind of place. She and I have both just moved to our new home together. After two years of relationship, I felt like it was about time I made a decision. Then I took it. Though it was not as dramatic as it sounded. We both kind of knew what we felt about each other. All I needed to do was to say the words. A few months later, our cute little baby child was born. Thinking back, it all seemed so distant now.


    A fruity voice called out to me, bringing me back to reality. When I came to myself, a terrifying face greeted me. Wearing a bright yellowy tight one piece, the person had a red wig and used a lot of makeups, too much for any normal lady would use. The heavy smell of perfume emanated from this person. But the most striking feature was the gender of the person. It was a man.


    ¡°Hello beautiful!¡± the man lady said.


    ¡°AAAAA!¡± I almost jumped myself when she¡­or maybe he¡­or it put their face so close to mine.


    ¡°How rude to scream in a lady¡¯s face like that!¡± the man lady said.


    ¡°Don¡¯t scare him like that Cassandra! Everyone would freak out if you put your ugly face so close to them.¡± The reporter said.


    ¡°Pffuu. You just don¡¯t understand a maiden¡¯s heart.¡± The person named Cassandra pouted.


    ¡°Yeah yeah. Just bring us some beer, will you?¡±


    Cassandra brought us to a table in the corner of the bar and departed. I sat down, still trying to figure out what Cassandra was.


    ¡°Is it your first time seeing a transsexual?¡± asked the reporter cheerfully.


    ¡°Well¡­yes¡­I..hum¡­so is that a he or she?¡± I shyly asked.


    ¡°Hahaha I suppose it is normal to be confused. It is actually not that complicated as people makes it. Cassandra is a woman trapped inside a man¡¯s body. Pure and simple. Nothing too difficult to understand. Just remember to call her HER! Else you are in for a beating. Anyway, here comes our drink.¡±


    Cassandra came with a plate on her hand, bringing some small side snacks and two large pins of beer on our table. As she put down mine, the woman, if I could call her that, added a handkerchief with a lipstick mark and a telephone number written in black and put it right next to the cup.


    ¡°Call me!¡± Cassandra winked at me and departed.


    ¡°Well, someone got a fan already.¡± The reporter joked. ¡°Anyway, a toast to our meeting. Cheer!¡±


    ¡°Cheer!¡±


    ¡°That is good stuff.¡±


    ¡°It sure is.¡± I said. I still had no idea why he invited me for a drink. If anything, life has taught me not to trust any stranger, especially if they were overly friendly with you. Behind every smile hid a secret intention. No one would be willing someone else for free. Either they wanted a favor or put us in debt with them for a potential future favor. It was always the case. I put down my pin and crossed my hands. ¡°So why exactly am I here?¡±


    Feeling that his charade no longer worked, the reporter dropped his cheerful tone and took a serious voice. ¡°Just a little chat. That¡¯s all.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Really now?¡±


    ¡°But I guess a senior employee of Orchitech Pharmaceuticals such as yourself wouldn¡¯t be fulled by this. Am I right, Mr. Alphonse Graves?¡± the reporter said.


    ¡°How do you know who I am?¡± I asked angrily.


    ¡°If you haven¡¯t been paying attention to the news, I suggest you go and read this.¡± The report brought out yesterday¡¯s newspaper belonging to a tabloid.


    Picking it up, I read the headline. ¡°Unfortunate husband or wicked murderer?¡± The title shocked me to my very core. Below were some outrageous speculations, saying that I may have planned the deaths of my wife and child in order to get their life-insurance money.


    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± I threw back the newspaper at the reporter.


    ¡°Easy easy. Hasty one aren¡¯t you? This is a fake.¡± The reporter said.


    ¡°What?¡± I grabbed the thing back. Once you carefully read it, aside from the article about me, all the others were in some gibberish language, not meaning anything. ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡± I questioned with rage. Even if it was a fake, I didn¡¯t find the joke funny at all.


    ¡°That was a story I intended to publish¡­¡± Before I could grab my cup and smash it into his head, the reporter quickly resumed. ¡°That is until I find some new evidence. I know that you are not responsible for the accident.¡±


    ¡°Of course not!¡± I retorted.


    ¡°You never know these days. I am telling you, people are capable of doing some sick stuff. Just watch the news recently and you will see what I am talking about. Anyway, here is my card.¡±


    I reluctantly took the card. At that time, all I wanted to do was to leave that place. Still, something told me that maybe, just maybe, I could use this guy for something. That was why I decided to take a deep breath and calmed down. ¡°Buck Cash, freelance reporter and publisher of the Capital Observer.¡± Capital Observer, where did I see that name? The Capital Observer was the name of the tabloid where I read about that biker online. No wonders why this guy¡¯s name seemed so familiar. He was the reporter that wrote that article. However, it would not do anything good for him to know about me researching about the biker. So I decided to feign ignorance. ¡°So you are a reporter. What does that have anything to do with me? How did you know about the life-insurance money?¡±


    ¡°Well we all knew about the accident. Horrible stuff really. Anyway, I originally wanted to arrange an interview with you so I chased down your address. But when I came to your home that day, you were just on your way out. My journalist¡¯s instinct kicked in and instead, I decided to follow you to that lawyer¡¯s office. You should really pick a better lawyer next time I tell you. All I needed was to invite him to this place and make him drink a couple of shots before he started spouting everything about you. Then again, if your client suddenly gains ten million dollars without giving a single dime to you, you would be pretty pissed off too. I suggest you deal with that.¡±


    ¡°What exactly do you want?¡± I was not afraid of his threat. He knew better than I was how little that kind of rubbish article would affect me. I was perfectly innocent in this case. The police, even the insurance company, agreed with me. There was no one anyone would believe his crap. However, he should know this already. So why did he want to talk to me?


    ¡°A story, Mr. Graves. A good story.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡±


    ¡°You see, you might not agree with me but I understand your current situation. I mean, losing your family to some selfish prick who couldn¡¯t wait just a few seconds before a red light is pretty frustrating, don¡¯t you agree?¡±


    ¡°What? Does that mean you know who that guy is?¡± I stood up suddenly. Then I noticed that I have frightened the other clients in other tables and quickly sat down. I must calm down. I must take this slowly.


    ¡°Looks like I hit the spot. I might have some info¡­.That is if you are interested.¡± Buck said with a sly grin on his face, rubbing his two fingers.


    ¡°How much do you want?¡± I asked him.


    ¡°Oh I don¡¯t know. I am not really good with money you see. Lost the whole lot of them in horse racing. Maybe just a tiny bit to cover the debts and funding for my next article.¡± Buck raised one finger. ¡°How about a hundred grands for start?¡±


    ¡°One hundred thousand???¡±


    ¡°Quiet down! Do you want the whole world to know? It is actually quite cheap you know. It includes all the fees plus some additional exclusive service for you. Besides, there is also the fee to keep my mouth shut. And don¡¯t worry! Unlike that lawyer, I am a very ethical person. I keep my words. Come on! It is a friendly price. Who knows? I may not look like it but I have quite the network. I can be a lot of assistance to you for future reference.¡± Buck spoke excitedly.


    From appearance alone, it was more than enough to see how shady this guy was. Despite how it may sound, Buck¡¯s offer did manage to catch my interest. Information was power and a shady reporter would definitely have his way to find out things others would not have. In my line of works, or rather what I used to do, we most often had to resort to turn to some back channels in order to gather intelligence about our competitors, our clients and often our own coworkers. Who could possibly not be interested in that upcoming promotion? Getting some dirt on the other candidates did help bringing in that achievement. But of course, these precious info did not come from our daily chats, but rather through shady connections like this. However, sometimes, these connections could also come back and bite you later. Blackmail was a common result. It was a risk not everyone was willing to take.


    I had to make a decision. It was certainly risky but who was going to say that I would get another chance? The police would never give out the info about the culprit. In addition, they were all corrupted or too unreliable. No one else but these kinds of guys would be willing to help me. I had no other choice here. It required evil to defeat evil. If I decided to follow my vendetta till the end, I must be prepared to do some questionable things. Yes, I needed to.


    ¡°How do I know you won¡¯t be lying to me?¡± I asked him. ¡°Or maybe betray me?¡±


    ¡°Surely you jest. I would never lie to my clients.¡± Buck smiled.


    ¡°The fact that you said that makes me worry even more.¡±


    ¡°How about this? You give me half of the money we agree to. Think of it as the funding for my investigation. I will bring back some proper evidence so you can check it yourself. Once I am done, I will get the other half. Not a bad deal huh?¡± Buck proposed.


    ¡°¡­.Sounds fair.¡±


    ¡°Of course it is fair. Old Buck never lies, if you have the money of course.¡±


    ¡°Can I count on your silence then?¡±


    ¡°But of course. Whatever you do with the information is up to you. I can even find some dirt on them if you have more to pay for it. Old Buck is your friend, buddy.¡± The shady reporter spoke cheerfully. ¡°Now, a toast to our new friendship! CHEER!¡±


    ¡°Cheer!¡± I said softly. As I sipped through that enormous pin, a part of me wondered if I have made a mistake in dealing with this guy. But there was no going back. I would do it this time. But first, there was something I wanted to ask him. Just before I started to have a spark of hope on my revenge that I forsook what I have committed to. The biker remained at large. ¡°By the way, do you mind if I ask you something?¡±


    ¡°Sure. Shoot ahead!¡± Buck replied.


    ¡°Do you know who was the one that attacked us? That biker?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Oh you mean Ross Duran? Yeah I know him. I wrote an article about him, telling how he scared the shit out of people because of his reckless driving and gang members. A real piece of shit I tell you. The police caught him a few times but there is always someone bailing him out. I tried to find out more who was behind his little gang but couldn¡¯t find anything yet. For once I do something journalist-like and look at what it got me!¡± Buck showed the bruise he had from the biker¡¯s punch. ¡°If you are smart, better avoid him!¡± the reporter took out a cigarette and a lighter.


    ¡°I see. So¡­where does he usually hang out?¡±


    ¡°Why are you asking?¡± Upon the sudden question, Buck stopped and put down his lighter.


    ¡°Oh, I just want to know where to avoid encountering him. I am afraid if he sees me again, he will kill me.¡± I faked a cowardly posture. All those years working as a salaryman have made me a pretty actor at faking it.


    ¡°Ahaha, I get what you mean. I would probably do the same thing. But don¡¯t you worry. Aside from the alleys we met last time, he usually only hangs out with his buddies in the central park starting from midnight. Though I am sure even he wants to avoid attracting too much of the police¡¯s attention so he will definitely be at the pack only in late night. You have nothing to worry.¡± The shady reported said.


    ¡°Thank you for the info!¡± I grinned secretly. ¡°I expect good things from you.¡±


    ¡°Of course! About the payment¡­.¡±


    ¡°You will get it tomorrow. I will give you a call when I am ready.¡± I put Buck¡¯s business card in my wallet.


    ¡°Yes yes of course. Well, it is almost midnight now so we should probably call it a day. Wouldn¡¯t want to miss the train or have an unfortunate encounter!¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? What unfortunate encounter?¡±


    ¡°Have you been living under a rock? Just look at the news for once! It is all they have been talking about for the last few months.¡± Buck pointed at the hung television of the bar. ¡°Hey Cassandra, can you turn on the volume a bit?¡±


    On TV, two reporters were discussing with each other in a breaking news section.


    ¡°It has been three months and the police has not yet succeeded in identifying the serial killer who is behind five murders. Jim, I get it that the public has given this killer a nickname?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Andy. Due to the mirrored states of the five crime scenes and the similarities between the accounts of the witnesses, the mysterious killer has been nicknamed¡­..¡±


    ¡°The White Reaper?¡± I uttered.


    ¡°Yes. According to the witnesses, the killer wears a white mask and black cloth, making him look like a real reaper of the death. Furthermore, his signature killing method is cutting the victim into two pieces, as if they have been slashed by a giant scythe.¡± Buck said. ¡°Really creepy shit. What has our city come to, letting murderers roaming around like this? Anyway, let¡¯s go home!¡±

 Chapter 7: Alphonse - Encounter

    I hoped I didn¡¯t screw up this time. That deal I made with that shady reporter, Buck, I wished it wouldn¡¯t come back and bite me later. But from my perspective, it was something worth the risk. Not many people would be willing to lend me their aid, surely not against the people I was facing. I had no idea who they were but to be able to shut down such a criminal investigation just like that and even erasing everything in the record meant they had tremendous influence and resources to back it up. Perhaps one of the top politicians of our country or some millionaire. Either way, against this kind of threat, few would dare to.


    In this society, money was everything. People could say how money couldn¡¯t buy anything. It might be true if you were talking about sincere love but aside from that? Money could buy a lot of things. It was a very powerful incentive that could be used to push people into doing something they wouldn¡¯t normally do. In the case of a greedy man like Buck, it worked wonderfully.


    The next day, I proceeded to make my move. I had ten million dollars, should be able to do a lot of things with that. It surprised me a bit when I came to the bank, only to be serviced in the most luxurious way possible. I had access to a VIP room where I could make all the transactions I wanted without fearing about any leak of information. Unlike before whenever I had a problem with my bank account, I must stand in line for almost half an hour just to get an appointment. I didn¡¯t care what people said. Having money was the best in the world.


    Which was what I wanted to say. I wished I could dance like a maniac throwing money like throwing trashes. I certainly could. It was once a small selfish dream of mine. Yet, now that I obtained the means to do it, I didn¡¯t. For what exactly was I happy for? This money only came in my possession because my wife and child were dead.


    I started by pulling a chunk of cash out of my account. One part would be for Buck and his investigation. We decided to meet in in the alley next to the bar we had visited the day before. Sneaking around in dark places was not really my thing and I almost dropped the envelope with the money inside. Buck seemed used to stuff like this, however. As I expected from a shady reporter such as him. After recounting the money like a banker, Buck gave me a few pieces of advice for our next meeting. Like how I should make sure not to be followed by anyone, avoid looking too nervous or suspicious, those sorts of things. I supposed for a first timer like myself, I did look a bit odd. It reminded me a bit of those spy movies, except that I was not nearly as half as cool as those agents in the shows.


    At this point, I was pretty sure that Buck knew about my intention of revenge. However, he didn¡¯t know what kind of revenge I was looking for. For all he knew, I only wanted to expose the scandal even further and hired him to look for shady businesses or affairs behind the man responsible for the death of my family. I guessed my goofy look only gave him that idea. But that was not what I wanted. That kind of revenge would go nowhere. I was sure that to those who were able to just halt a police investigation, a few scandals would do nothing. It was already too late for them to face the judgment of the law. The only thing they deserved was righteous retribution and I would be the one to bring it to them.


    But I could not rush this carelessly. What I intended to do, I must not let anyone get in my way, one way or another. Before I knew it, it was already past eleven at night. Did I black out again? The last thing I remembered was me wandering the shopping district in the morning and now I found myself amidst dense vegetation at night time. Perhaps I went crazy from the loss of my family. I was never the strong kind of man, merely a weakling in both strength and will. It was possible that this has affected me more than I had imagined.


    Before doing anything else, I needed to figure out where I was. I thought at first that I was in the middle of some tropical forest but the idea alone was absurd. I quickly found my way out upon stumbling across a pavement made out of red tiles. This was no tropical forest. This was the central park of the city. I had come here before with my kid so I recognized the landscape. It was over a year ago. Back then, the park was still nice, unlike today. For some reasons, this place became a den for a group of thugs a few months ago, especially at night. Piles of garbage were left uncleaned because the workers dared not coming in. Used needles and other toxic trashes were scattered around. I knew it was bad but never thought it was this bad. Then again, I never paid attention much to this sort of things. Back then, I kept my head low, only tried to live my peaceful days while ignoring the rest. I was aware of these atrocious things but decided to avert my eyes away from them.


    Suddenly, a strange sound got my attention. I could hear a familiar voice begging for help not far from where I was. I was afraid. Considering the location where I was, it was highly possible that I would encounter some misfortunate soul who decided it was a good idea to take a walk in this treacherous place in the middle of the night. Though I myself was not in a position to berate them. Buck did tell me about that biker gang also hanging around in this park. What in the world was I doing here? Curious, I tried to keep a low profile as I located the source of the voice. The closer I approached, the more painful it seemed to be. It was as if they were being attacked.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Little did I know, it was here that my life began a new chapter as it took a new turn for the worse. I was never a brave man and I should know have known my place. I should have never tried to be someone I was not. Have I not, I would have never met him.


    ¡°Hello there!¡± A cheerful male voice called out to me.


    Under the moonlit night, in what I called a scenery of hellish nightmare dyed in blood and gore, a man in dark clothing with a white smiling mask stood in the middle of it all. Long leather coat up past his knees with thick boots, the man in question wore a fedora hat over his head and his face was hidden by that eerie smiley mask. In his handheld a long obsidian blade in his hand with a glossy surface. A crimson fluid flowed from the edge of the blade toward the ground below, making a stain.


    He reminded me of one of those psychopaths in the movies I saw. Only this time, he was not inside a television but real and right in front of my eyes. We were standing in a recreation ground reserved for children. But the dirty sand was stained with blood from the mutilated corpses lying on them. I recognized their clothing immediately. They belonged to those biker kids that beat me up. But now, they were all dead, except for the leader of the gang who was known by the name Ross, if I remembered correctly. He didn¡¯t look so good right now. His chest was bleeding profusely as he tried to crawl away from the masked man.


    I wanted to run away but my legs refused to budge. These weakly limbs could only tremble in fear. Who wouldn¡¯t if they were in my situation?


    ¡°Enjoying your late-night walk?¡± The masked man asked me. His voice sounded a little too happy for someone who has just been discovered in the middle of a crime. ¡°How about some company? Just a moment. I will grab this up very quickly.¡±


    ¡°He..lp...me!¡± Ross called out desperately with his little voice. Unfortunately for him, due to his own actions, this place has been deserted for months without a single soul present in this night to lend him aid, all but me. Yet, even though I was right in front of him, Ross ignored my presence and tried to look past me. Did he assume that I was with that maniac behind him or his accomplice or something?


    Holding his ominous sword tightly, the man walked toward the slow biker who has been doing his best to crawl away despite his mortal wound. There was no flashy or build up in tension like in the movie. With a swift draw, the masked man thruster his sword onto the back of Ross¡¯s head, piercing through his face down to the sand below. Then he pulled it out and cut off the corpse¡¯s head with a single slash. All he did next was to swing his sword strongly to the side and all the blood was washed away to the ground. Meanwhile, all I could do was watch and stand like an idiot as the murderer approached me slowly with his sword in hand. Could he be the serial killer mentioned in the news lately? The one Buck has warned me about. How unlucky must I be to encounter this guy right here?


    ¡°Enchant¨¦! I believe this is the first time we met. Verso, at your service!¡± The man removed his hat and greeted me with an overly polite bow, revealing his black hair before putting his hat back again. An odd one he was. The guy certainly seemed friendly if not for the bloody carnage behind him and the sword in his hand.


    ¡°¡­..Hi!¡± I raised my hand and greeted him back. Whoever this guy was, it was clear that he was not normal. He just committed several murders without batting an eye. I must not anger him at any cost.


    ¡°No need to be shy! You don¡¯t mind if I join your little nightly walk, do you?¡± Verso, or so this mysterious masked individual called himself, said to me. Despite his friendly tone, I could feel the chill up to spines. Every inch of my body was screaming in fear. I felt like he could end me in just a second if he wanted to.


    Swallowing up my fear, I tried to talk in hope that he would let me go. ¡°Sure¡­¡±. Looking past him, I didn¡¯t want to become like those dismembered corpses lying on the red stained ground below. For now, I should do what he wanted.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± The killer put away his sword in its scabbard dangling around his waist.


    We walked down the main road of the park in silence. The strange man walked ahead, leading the way while I stayed in the back, looking for opportunities to get away. But every time I tried to, he turned back suddenly with that creepy smiling mask of his. It was as if he knew what my intentions were like the back of his hand. I couldn¡¯t manage to sneak away from him. So I kept my mouth shut, fearing where he was going to lead me. I thought that after losing my family, there was no reason for me to cling to this life anymore. I thought so. Yet, why was it that I could still feel fear in my heart? What could possibly give me a purpose to hold onto this miserable life any longer? What was stopping me to just cast away everything?


    ¡°Hope.¡± Verso spoke with his back facing me.


    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I asked.


    ¡°What drives you to hold to your life. The source of your fear. It is hope. Maybe everything will turn out okay. Maybe the police will capture the true culprit and put him behind bars. Maybe I won¡¯t have to do anything.¡±


    ¡°Stop it!¡± I shouted.


    ¡°You ask for those things, even though you are well aware of how impossible they are. No, you haven¡¯t changed a bit, Mr. Alphonse. All you are doing is clinging to a false hope that you won¡¯t have to dirty your hands, just like you always did.¡±


    ¡°What? How do you know my name?¡±


    ¡°Is it that difficult to admit? We are all humans. Only when we are facing a great struggle do we show our true selves. I have seen it. It is the most disgusting thing I have ever laid my eyes upon. Chaos, war, death. Everything stems from our desire of conflict, the selfishness of one. Such is the true nature of humanity.¡± Verso looked at me intensively, as if his stares could pierce through my very soul.


    ¡°No¡­no!¡± I wrapped my hands around my ears. But his serpentine words still managed to find their ways to reach my mind.


    ¡°So you see, it is perfectly normal to feel what you are feeling right now. You are one of them too, are you not?¡±


    ¡°No, I AM NOT!¡±


    Grabbing my face close to his, Verso peered into my eyes. His face was that of a pure darkness, a veil so murky it shrouded all manners of vileness and secrets from the world. I could not see beyond it.


    ¡°Then abandon your humanity! Ascend to the beyond! Join me!¡±


    My sense of reason was being taken away from me. Somewhere inside my mind, his words echoed repeatedly. It was absurd, yet it sounded true. Within the infinite timeless of consciousness, my mind no longer resisted its temptation. The chains that bound my will rattled as they started to crack. I was free.


    ¡°From now on, it will be us two against the world. Trust no one but me! Listen to no one but me! And I will help you in your quest! I will be your one and only ally in this distorted world! Your only friend, Verso Phalanges!¡±