Homocide Fifty || DNF

13. I Said Nothing

George's shaking figure stands in-front of the door to his office. Bad is besides him, his hand on George's shoulder to calm him.

George's mind goes berserk. Why does this always happen to him? How did Dream even get inside of his office? He trembles, gaze lingering on the doorknob in front of him. He's oddly nervous today. Well, maybe because a dead body is lying in his office.

"I can open it if you want me to—" Bad says, getting cut off by George's rushed words.

"No."

"Okay," Bad sighs.

And then he opens the door slowly. Slow enough so that the investigators inside of his office can hear the door creaking.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar masculine voice airs, leaving George with even more questions than before. George brushes his hand against the doorframe and peeks inside.

Bad is behind him, pushing him forward slightly. The door closes behind them, leaving a loud silence roam through the atmosphere when the sound of the closing door is long gone.

George inspects his office, walking towards the unfamiliar man who's holding a stack of folders and paperwork.

Then he spots the body. It isn't as bad as he thought, though. It's rather clean to George's advantage.

He raises a brow when he sees the body's face. He remembers the face, not the person. It's like they've met before.

The man in a purple suit smiles as a friendly gesture, but he doesn't seem one bit happy. Then he looks at the paper in his hand, "it got reported at around 4am by the cleaning staff. We don't know when it happened exactly, though," he sighs.

"I'm Ponk," the man says. He has brown, chocolatey eyes with matching brunette hair. A light stubble fulfills his features. He reaches out a hand. George shakes it.

George instantly thinks about how similar Ponk is to Punz. He brushes it off, looking at the friendly man in front of him, "George. Nice to meet you," he responds formally.

Ponk looks at the body, scanning his now pale features. He sighs.

"He was one of your employees," he exclaims.

George raises a brow, it almost reaching his hairline. He kneels down to get a closer look a the individual, and sure enough, he now remembers where he knows this face from.

Jack, short for Jack Manifold, was a man George'd hired a few months prior. He hasn't ever talked to him, though.

He looks at Jack's hand for a note, but finds something way more terrifying.

His finger is gone. Specifically his index finger. Somehow that's more terrifying for George than a pile of dead meat.

Ponk notices him staring at Jack's hand. "He um," he almost stutters, "he used Jack's finger to get into the building." He breathes out. "I have no clue why he'd drag Jack's body all the way up to your office. I think he knew we were going to find the body no matter what, so I guess he thought he'd make it a package deal?"

Yep. That's definitely a Dream thing to do. George's heart skips a beat, throbbing rapidly. His mind goes places they don't want to go, graphic images of Dream killing Jack, ripping his finger off and then scanning it like an accessory to get through the doors.

"What about alarms? Security cameras? Where were they in this situation?" George asks, slightly furious at the low security deployment at night.

"It wasn't until 4 the cleaners arrived. I told you," Ponk says.

George turns to Bad. "Why don't we have more security at night?" He knows Bad can't answer his question because it's George's responsibility. He's the boss.