The Paranormal Detective: the case of the Shadow Criminals

Introduction...with some ghosts

A tall man in a brown coat, hat and pants walks into the room elegantly, dark brown eyes, dark brown hair, looked older than 30.

"Greetings there, fellow readers." He says to you. "Have we met before? OF course we haven't. Allow me to introduce myself, the name's Oliver Smith."

He sits in his chair, with one leg crossing the other.
"I, as I like to say am a paranormal detective, now you might say something like: 'That isn't even a real job!' or 'You're kidding me right?' My job is to find out unsolved mysteries that cannot be explained such as the mystery of Marilyn Monroe's death, although nobody solved that one."

He fumbles through his first drawer on his table, at his left side. "So is the mystery of jack the ripper, but let's get straight to the point. I solve cases no one else can, if you're asking: 'Where do you get this inspiration from?' Sherlock Holmes of course. Except, I deal with spirits and unworldly beings or just normal cases. Go on, laugh. Most people think of it as a joke, though I'm not joking."

A picture of him talking to nobody was pinned on a billboard behind. It wasn't enough evidence to make us believe that he could see or talk to ghosts wasn't it?

He reaches out for the video tape at the far end of his desk and plays it in the television.
A child about the age of nine was talking to no one, sitting there alone, blabbering about someone named Willow.
"Willow? Are you there?" The child said "If you are, could you throw that toy to me?"
He pointed at the teddy bear at the corner of the room, there was pure silence. And as he asked, the toy went flying to him hitting his face.
"Rude" he mumbled.

"The kid's crazy!" The camera wobbled and the tape ended.
Back to Oliver, he sat there with a far look on his face. As if something had caught his attention.
"Yes, people did criticize me for that very video. Though some people might not believe that kind of evidence, it's quite aright. But if something pops up under your bed tonight don't come to me running for help if you don't mind."

He said without any sort of emotion on his face.

"Now as you know almost all detectives have associates. Mine is right here standing beside the television, she was here before you were, and she is the Willow from that tape. Precisely twenty years old. Killed August 27, 1985. How? Wandered at night, got kidnaped, took her organs and buried her just in my very backyard. Willow say hello to the people reading this."
The wind blew and a woman with a wobbly British accent began talking
"H-hello" she said, a strange shape of a woman began to appear beside him, the woman had black hair, no pupils or irises, just white eyes, a scar went across one of her eyes, she wore a fancy dress, and there were bandages on her hands, her left arm's bandage was red with blood, and two small hats lay on her head. Was it your imagination or an illusion?
"Good, now this story has a lot of violence which I do not advice children to read ,although the author might be a child too. Anyways enjoy reading about this case and I was kidding about anything popping under your bed. It was very nice to meet you but I must let the author take over and begin with the story now.
Cheerio!"

He waved and the screen cut to black.