KISS Oneshots

#5 Eric Singer x Reader

I was finally on my way home after a long day at work. As soon as I walked through the front entrance of the appartement complex I sighed happily. I climbed the stairs and rounded the corner at the right floor just to see the door standing open. I stopped in my tracks, listening for any sound coming from the appartement.

It was quiet, too quiet. My roommate should be home but the lights were all out and I could hear nothing. I decided to quietly walk towards it, peeking into the dark room. Nothing could have prepared me for the thing I saw. My roommate layed on the floor, bloody and motionless. I stood in the door for a moment, not believing my eyes before sprinting to her.

"Oh my god, Angela!", I said panicked, kneeling down beside her and checking for a pulse. It was there but very, very faint. "Hold on, I'll call an ambulance!", I said, sprinting to the phone. But before I could dial there was a light shining in my face. "Police, hands up!", a man shouted, pointing his pistol at me.

I held up my hands instantly, holding onto the phone. "Please, my friend is dying, she needs an ambulance!", I said desperate. "An ambulance is on their way, now put away the phone and kneel down with your hands behind your head!", the police officer commanded. "But she needs help!", I said, not realizing what he said about the ambulance. "Help is on their way. Now kneel down!", he said, pointing his pistol on my chest.

I slowly let go of the phone and kneeled down. "Hands behind your head!", he shouted, walking towards me. I put my hands behind my head and he handcuffed me. "You're arrested for the suspicion of possible manslaughter. You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you.", he said, placing me on my feet again and pushing me out of my appartement, just as the paramedics got to Angela.

"You think I nearly murdered my friend and roommate!?", I asked shocked but the officer remained silent, pushing me towards the police car. The ride to the police station was quiet and I watched the city fly past me from the window. Ten minutes later we arrived at the station and the officer lead me inside and into an interogation room.

One of my hands was cuffed to the table and I was left alone. I sighed and layed my head onto the table. The next hours I was interogated by nearly every officer and detective at the precinct. But I never talked to any of them, they all believed I was guilty, I could see that in their eyes. All they wanted was for me to confess so they could close the case and put me into a cell. I already sat eight hours in that room and didn´t even get a glass of water or could go to the bathroom.

Right now I sat alone in the tiny room, tired, thirsty and slightly hungry. I nearly fell asleep as the door suddenly opened and a man with shoulder long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes walked in. "Good luck Singer, she isn´t saying anything!", another officer called from the hallway before the door closed.

The man sat down in front of me and looked at me intently. A long time we just sat in front of each other, staring the other right in the eyes. Then he sighed suddenly, leaning back and resting his hands behind his head. "I think you already have enough from yelling police officers for now, so I´m not gonna yell at you. That isn´t my style anyway.", he said and I blinked a few times, surprised by his lack of interest in me or getting me to confess.

"So, you´re not gonna try to get a confession from me like your colleagues?", I asked surprised and he smiled. "No, I´m not because you´re innocent.", he simply answered and I looked at him surprised. "You think I´m innocent?!", I asked and he nodded. "Yes, I do. You don´t really have a motive to murder your roommate. But we need to prove that you have an alibi. Where were you between six and seven thirty in the evening?", he asked and I smiled and thought about his question.

"I left work at five and drove to the graveyard. I drive there every wednesday and sunday. You could ask Ms. Miller, she is a nice elderly lady that cares for the grave of her husband. He died two years ago and she saw me there earlier. We talked for a while and I left the graveyard at seven. Maybe a little later. Then I got stuck in a traffic jam and arrived at the appartement at seven thirty.", I recalled and he nodded. "Can one of your colleagues confirm the time you left work?", he asked and I nodded.