Rehan- The Nostalgic
Kieran and I were in the living room when we heard Samaira scream. The two of us immediately raced towards the sound. But we weren't prepared for what we would stumble upon.
Frank Danielson was lying dead on the floor, a gunshot wound to the chest. The floor was covered with blood. Samaira was standing a few feet away from it all, staring at the dead man, her body shaking.
Kieran took out his phone and dialed 9-1-1, while I took Samaira in my arms, so she wouldn't have to look.
"9-1-1, we haven an emergency." Kieran said, and gestured towards me to lead Samaira out of the house. As the three of us left, Kieran explained what happened and gave the operator the address.
I took a deathly pale Samaira out of the house, and Kieran unlocked the car doors.
"We should stay in the car if we don't wanna talk to the cops." Kieran said. "I think they would have a few questions about what we were doing in the house in the first place."
"Agreed." I said.
As soon as we all got into the car, Kieran drives a little bit down the block and turns the vehicle off. About 30 minutes later, the NYPD, along with the FBI show up at the house. We watched as paramedics wheeled the body into an ambulance and the officers converse with one another.
The other residents of the neighborhood began to come out, talking with the law enforcement about the crime. Among the crowd of people, I saw a very familiar face.
He came in, stumbling through the door like he was drunk. He seemed disoriented, like he didn't know where he was. He kept looking around him, as if he were searching for something.
Or maybe someone.
I think I remembered asking Kashan if I should call the police, but I believed he kindly told me no and told me to go back to work.
I was leaning against the shelves in the back of the store when I heard Kashan and the man starting to yell at each other. I couldn't seem to recall what they said. There were a few crashes, and more yells.
Perhaps I tried to intervene?
I wasn't sure. I remembered the yelling was very loud at one point. Like I was standing right next to them.
In the midst of all the confusion, I suddenly heard a strange, sickening sound, and then nothing.
Silence.
It was him. The other man in the shop that day. Agent Michael Elias Wood. I should've known that he would be here, investigating. His head turned around, and his eyes locked onto mine.
The painful memories of the murder, of the investigation, the trauma came crashing back to me. I gave him a cold stare, an expression that he returned. Even though we knew little about each other, even though we didn't know the truth about that day, we knew one thing for certain:
We were enemies.
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Mandate
Mystery / Thriller"Everyone has a story to tell," He finally starts. "A wise person once told me that. He used to say, 'Son, everyone you meet in life has a story to tell. People will always describe themselves as heroes, but it's the things they do that will determi...