WARNING: THIS STORY HAS D3ATH, MENTIONS OF MENTAL HEALTH PROBLEMS, AND JUST DOWNRIGHT CREEPY STUFF suggested age range: 13+ (see that it says SUGGESTED, SUGGESTED) so dont report me you’ve been warned (guys i had to research so much on chicago for this story) Chapter One: Trigger-click (not a freaking word brochacho) “You’d do anything for me, right?…. Right, Flint?” “Yeah-…I would.” “Anything?” “Yes, I already told you.” “…..Then I need you to k-“ Flint jolted up in his bed, gasping. The sky was a light grey outside, seeping through the glass of his window. He sat there for a moment, his chest heaving, staring wide-eyed at the door like he thought someone was going to walk in. He scrambled out of his bed, falling face first on the ground, and then on his back as he flipped over. “Jesus-…” He winced. It was better than having to look at the door right now. He rubbed his face. That would probably bruise. Ravi’d give him an earful later. Slowly, he got up, and walked to his window. The sky had been gray for a few days now. Unsurprising. It was November, and November’s in Chicago were cold and cloudy. He opened the window, and flopped his upper body off the windowsill, his arms dangling down into the fire-escape area. His eyes drifted to the street sign below. Glenwood Avenue. Close to the Red Line, which he usually took to work. “Ughhhhhh…” He groaned, flipping his thin frame off the windowsill and onto the fire escape, landing on his back with a metallic clank. His clumsiness paired with his weird antics provided some….interesting situations. “Hello?” Someone called from under Flint. He looked down the stairs of the fire escape. It was his downstairs neighbor, a little girl who he’d recently learned the name of. Kaitlyn. “Oh. Hey, kid.” Flint said, smiling a tired smile. “What’s up?” “Well, I heard a clank from your stair- platform.. thingy, and I was just wondering if you were ok.” She was no more than eight, but she was a kind little thing. “I’m fine, I just fell.” Flint reassured her. “Hey, don’t you have school?” “Oh no! I do! Thanks, Mr. Kaslyth!” She said, running back inside. Flint smiled, sighing as he got up. “Nice kid…” He muttered as he climbed back into his apartment. The anxiety from waking up was lesser now, though it never went away. Flint winced slightly. His head hurt like hell. Actually, everything hurt like hell. Especially his face and back, though that might’ve been because he’d fallen on both not two minutes ago. He guessed a bruise would be forming on his nose bridge right now, and would be fully visible by the time he made it to work. Sighing, he got up from the ground, padding over to the mirror propped up against the wall. A person stared back at him. It looked like him. Moved like him. Flint knew this person well. It had a dark purple bruise already blooming on his nose bridge, the same brown hair, same green eyes that she said she wanted to keep for herself, the eyes that knew her true- Why was he thinking about her? She wasn’t here. “Families don’t turn on each other, Flint.” “You turned on me!” “I’m helping you!” “You’re not helping me, you just k-“ Flint grabbed a blanket and threw it over the mirror. No more mirrors today. He needed some meds, didn’t he… Just go through the motions, he told himself. Just like any other day. Though every day wasn’t ever easy, or fun. “Whatever…” He muttered, buttoning up his shirt till it covered most of his chest. He left a few at the top unbuttoned. No use in feeling confined in his own clothes. Every day, it was the same routine. Put on his shirt, his pants, his glasses. He’d forgotten to pay the heating bill in his apartment, so it was freezing. That was ok. He could just wear a sweater, get another blanket. He’d have extra money next month, when it got even colder. It had snowed last week, though all of it melted and dried away now. Chicago was known for its up-and-down weather, especially in the fall and winter. The street outside was quiet for the most part, though you could hear the train most of the time. It usually ran from before he even woke up to around twelve or two a.m., when he usually passed out. His phone rang just as he was leaving his apartment. The name ‘Ravi’ flashed on his screen. Flint picked it up on the third ring. “Hey, man…” Flint said, pulling his coat fully on as he closed his front door. “Hey, Flint. How’ve you been?” “You saw me yesterday. So, the same, I guess.” “Hey, anything can happen in a day, haha…” Ravi laughed. “So, I’m gonna trust that you’re the same as yesterday.” “Pretty much.” He knew that Ravi would scold him when he got to the station, so he didn’t tell him about the bruise or the fall yet. Save himself some trouble. “So. I know that you and I just got done with a case literally like, two days ago, but we’ve got another one.” Ravi sighed over the line. “What kinda case?” “A murder.”
Flint paused. A murder. “I don’t usually do murder cases, Ravi…” Flint said slowly, the word ‘murder’ being hard to even say out loud. “I know, man, but neither of us has a choice. And you’re one of our best detectives, second only to me!” “I highly doubt I’m second to you…” Flint muttered. “What was that?” “Nothing. I’ll be at the station in a bit.” “A’ight man, see you soon.” The line clicked dead. Flint heaved a sigh. He really didn’t want to do a case like this….Oh, well. Someone walked past him. He froze for a second. ‘Is that Li-‘ It wasn’t. Just someone with brown, curly hair, the same length she had. Or has. He wasn’t sure. Maybe he was. He didn’t know right now. Flint blinked slowly as the Red Line Train stopped in front of him. He really needed meds. The train ride was surprisingly silent. There was one other person in the train car, just a homeless man sleeping on a bench. Flint didn’t look at the man. People in cities, whether they were homeless or rich, could be dangerous. He just stared at his worn out Converse shoes that Ka-….a friend had given him a long time ago, for his 18th birthday. The train halted to a stop, and Flint got off. He exhaled shakily, glad to not be around strangers. He wasn’t a rude person, he just felt…uneasy around people. Odd, for a detective, but what are you going to do? He paced up the steps of the station, ‘One, two, three, four-‘ counting the steps as he went, yet another routine. ‘Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen…Seventeen.’ Flint ended on an odd number. He didn’t like odd numbers very much. He suddenly felt slightly sick to his stomach, but he swallowed it down and tried to push the feeling away. It’s just a stupid number. In the end everything is just a stupid number. A stupid number, a stupid word, a phrase, a feeling, an instinct. In the end all of it was meaningless, yet unavoidable. ‘Alright, this is getting too philosophical for me.’ Flint thought. He smiled to himself, though it had not a drop of humor. ‘Just keep walking.’ And so he kept walking. His police station was close to the train stop he’d gotten off at, about a 10-minute walk away. He walked through the doors of the station and immediately ducked as Ravi threw an orange at him. “Late again, Mr. Kaslyth!” Ravi yelled. Flint rubbed his eyes. “This is a police station, lower your voice…and hey! I’m on time!” “Nope! You’re late by— thirty seconds.” “…….Dude..” “I’m just kidding,” Ravi said, patting Flint’s head. “Damn, I forgot how short you are.” “Sir, I am two inches shorter than you.” “Two inches too baby.” “…..Alright, man..” Flint glanced at the calendar on the wall. It read, November 11th, 2009. Ravi grabbed a folder off a nearby desk. “Ok, in all seriousness, here’s the case file with the victim.” Flint opened the folder. A photo of a man in his very early twenties greeted him. It was a photo of the victim. “Guy’s name is Andrew Vance,” Ravi explained. “Twenty years old, worked an office job. Normal guy. He was murdered a few days ago, but we only found out early this morning.” “How’d he die?” “Looks to us like he was st4bbed. There's only a few wounds, so it must’ve been quick. See, look.” He pointed at the man's neck. “Took out his arteries.” Flint looked closer at the photo. A little green band was around Vance’s wrist. “Did you guys put that there?” He asked. “Nah, this photo was taken when we arrived, before we even touched the body.” Flint turned pale, staring at that band. Ravi waved a hand in front of Flint’s face. “Yo, Flint, you good?” “…y-yeah…” Flint muttered, that sick feeling coming back. He tapped his finger lightly against the desk, over and over as he stared at the photo. ‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-’ He counted each tap. He recognized that little green band. He’d seen it before. He’d always hoped he’d never see it again. writing: pandasans765 story: pandasans765 characters: pandasans765 og idea: pandasans765 art: pandasans766 song: L no Kako from the Death Note OST all chaps: https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/52081754 are we feeling the cover and the music this story is so much longer already than the other one help
