💡 Murder in the Moonlight

chapter two - detective's head

My eyes scan over the words so many times that my vision goes blurry. Someone, whoever and wherever they may be, believes a killing game is a valid form of entertainment. They're probably enjoying watching me spiral over Mateo's death. After flipping through the rest of the blank lined pages, I look up at the rest of my group.

"Well Mila, you'll just have to put up with my attire until you get faced with a fate like Mateo," Thiago has pushed himself up to his feet and is about to launch himself at the darker girl with brunette buns. The red-head, who I believe is named Quinn, repositions herself in front of Mila. I guess tuning out isn't the worst decision I've made. As the three move from an inconsiderate spew of insults to a violent throw of hands, Alab makes his way towards me.

"Are you alright Indah? You've been awfully quiet," I look up at his warm, brown eyes. Amongst the dangers of the dark night, the comforting tone of his voice brings a sense of safety to my worries. I haven't even known him for an hour yet he can make me forget that I had witnessed a murder with my very own eyes.

"I guess so. It just all feels so daunting, being thrown into such a horrid game while some terrible person laughs at our misery. We could all be dead in a few nights!" I pause after saying my last sentence. Even just thinking about losing everything makes me feel sick. Not that I have much to lose. Social settings have never been my thing so my only 'friend' was my sister. But after she moved far away and stopped calling, I only have myself left. Wouldn't dying here bring you peace, Indah?

"You're pretty smart, Indah. At least compared to some of us," his eyes glance at Mila, Quinn and Thiago, who have returned to their original method of argument: verbal insults. "Surviving amongst this bunch will be easy for you."

I struggle to contain myself from smiling.

"Well, if holding onto logic and making friends in a game of death is your idea of smart, then I'm honoured," I giggle. Out of this group of people, Alab and maybe Marley seem to be the only reasonable ones here. Alliances and leadership are the two pillars of success in a game like this. But what about the 6 other journals?

"Alright everyone! We've set up 5 sleeping bags in both tents so let's get to bed. The sun should be up soon enough and we've got a long day of investigation coming our way," Marley calls out nearby. The fear that had consumed my body just before has been replaced by a small glimpse of hope. My hands aren't trembling anymore and the only part of me that might explode is my brain.

I can't see anything in this stuffy tent but the many things I don't want to feel are at the back of the line of my thoughts. Mateo's unjust death, the 6 unclaimed journals, the burden of my role, the alliances that still need to be forged and the killer that's still hiding in these woods. I've been at it for hours. Despite the rest I really do need, I can't stop myself from spiralling into endless unanswered questions and incomplete thoughts. And even after all that, I keep circling back to one person: Alab. His well-built figure takes up enough space in our tent that I can feel his arms pushing against my own but no sense of discomfort rushes through me. Meeting someone like Alab was a first; letting myself slowly get attached will likely lead me to my own demise. But god, can I even help myself? For all I know, the only person I can trust could be the very killer I fear. Letting your guard down could cost you your life, Indah!

After another hour of endless tossing and turning, I decide to put an end to this and get outside. A breath of fresh air could do my head well. The warmth of the morning sun provides a blanket from the terrors of the night. My eyes are caught by the array of light colours in the sky so I fail to notice an unrecognised face cooking breakfast over the fire.

"You're up early!" he chuckles. I avert my gaze to the boy with short, dark brown hair and a light-blue hoodie.

"Indah, yeah? I'm Omar. Marley was talking about you nonstop once we split off," he smiles softly, returning his focus to the near-burnt bacon.