The Warrior Spirit

Three

Backing away from the cold corpse of my best friend, I burst into quiet sobs, traumatized by the sight of his mutilated body left out in the woods by his heartless murderer.

I discovered similar gashes just like the one on his chest all over his torso as I distanced myself from him, however, they all seemed to be carved out moments after his death, for they barely bled at all.

This was some messed up ritualistic killing, I thought to myself, while struggling to think of my next cause of action. It appeared that a knife had been repeatedly used to carve out all these wounds in his body. I was overcome with a deep sense of guilt at the thought that I might have been able to prevent this from happening somehow. But I couldn't let my emotions stop me from doing the right thing.

My first instinct was to call the cops. I went back into the house through the garage door and picked up my cellphone from the floor to dial the emergency number with trembling hands. But I had a change of mind at the last minute, deciding to not be the only person around when the cops get here.

I would call Mr. And Mrs. Smith to inform them of their son's murder but the couple were out of town for a business trip, they could only do little to help with the situation right now.

I didn't know how to handle the cops, as I wasn't sure what to tell them when they get here, so I did the next best thing, calling my friends from high school who'd attended the party last night.

But I realized how much of a mistake that was when Bilal and Travis got here, accompanied by Travis's younger sister, Flora, who turned out to be the only one in their midst whose initial thought was that I hadn't committed the murder.

"They had a fight last night," Bilal insisted. "You weren't there, you didn't hear the threats -"

"They are friends," retorted Flora. "Friends fight all the time, they threaten each other. But that does not mean he killed him. Why would you even think that?"

"Then why else would he call us here rather than the cops?" said Travis with frustration, running a hand through his chestnut hair. "If he really were innocent, he'd -"

"He was scared, brother," said Flora, placing a hand on Travis's shoulder. "No one wants to be the one who reports such crimes to the cops. He trusts us. That's why he called."

"Just listen to yourself right now," muttered Bilal through gritted teeth, anxiously tugging his white-blond hair as he began to pace up and down in the forest clearing. "You... you can't trust anyone nowadays," he said, casting a suspicious look at me. "Not especially those who threaten to strangle people in their sleep."

"I didn't do it, Bilal," I said hoarsely, feeling the tears stream down my eyes. "I would never do anything to hurt him -"

"Says the guy who started up a fight with him at his birthday party last night," snapped Travis with an accusatory tone. "Cut the crap, man, we all know about your severe anger issues. Gregor told us about how you often scared him by how you act out sometimes. You're capable of taking out your anger in the most extreme ways possible -"

"But I will never commit murder," I yelled, stung by the accusation in his words. "That is not who I am."

"Guys, let's just... stop blaming each other for a second and do the needful," said Flora, patting her older brother on the arm. "We'll inform the cops, leave them to their investigation while we mourn the loss of our friend."

"Well, allow me." Bilal came to an abrupt halt across from me, bringing out his cellphone from the pocket of his sweatpants to make a call. "If he's afraid to confess to his crime, I'll gladly do it for him." He placed the phone over his ear, causing my heart rate to spike up as I considered spending the rest of my life locked up in jail over a crime I didn't commit.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Bilal," Flora walked over to him hastily, grabbing the cellphone from him just before the cops answered. She placed the phone over her ear to inform the cops of what had happened. "...it's our friend, Gregor. We... we found him dead in the thicket across his home."

"Tell them we have the culprit," Travis spat while making eye contact with me. "No need to cover up for a psychopathic maniac."

My body started to heat up from the rage building up inside of me as I continued to listen to their accusations. What happened between me and Gregor last night was a misunderstanding. It would never had led me to take his life. I was not that kind of person. But hearing my friends label me as the culprit behind his death did not only infuriate me, it made me feel betrayed and insulted. I would have thought they knew better than to assume something so heinous about me, considering how long we'd known each other for. But here they were doing what I would never have expected from my worst enemy.