Rogan the Detective ONC

Murder or Death?

Numb.

That's how I felt at that moment. I knew I should have felt fear, sadness, disgust, and many other feelings. But it was as if my emotions decided to shut themselves off. So, I felt empty. There were no negative sentiments to weigh me down, but there were none of the good ones either. And somehow, that apathy was far worse than any emotions I had felt since we entered the magnificent house, which was about to turn into our mausoleum.

After all, it was clear that I was going to be one of the two people to die. I simply didn't have what it took to murder someone. The only thing I could hope for was that I would at least defend myself when she attacked me, because I was sure her attack was coming. I was hoping my survival instincts would kick in, that I would get to live after all, but I didn't have high hopes for something like that happening.

For a moment after the horrible announcement, Elizabeth stared at me with huge eyes, her lips slightly parted as if in shock, giving me a glimmer of hope that she wouldn't be able to do it. We had been through too much together, and I naively believed she had developed an attachment to me. In the same way, you can't really kill and eat a chicken you have already named.

I was wrong.

Before my brain could catch up with her movements, she whirled around, grabbed the same cursed bust, and smashed it repeatedly right into Thomas' head. There was no hesitation, no questioning of our orders but doing it. Clearly, she wanted to live, and logically, it did make sense that one of us would have to do something or all of us would die.

Yet, listening to the disgusting sounds of Thomas' skull breaking, it occurred to me that something was horribly wrong. Why would anyone be willing to kill someone without any hesitation?

The thoughts raced through my head with the speed of light while my body hurried to stop her, to protect Thomas if there was anything left of him to protect. However, all I got for my efforts was a backhanded slap that had me stumbling back, her strength greater than anticipated.

"Elizabeth, no...stop," I begged weakly, barely hearing my own voice from the ringing in my ears and the dizziness that didn't allow me to even stand, let alone help the poor injured guy. "You shouldn't be doing this... It's what the psychopath wants us to do."

Then it hit me like a bullet train. All the things that didn't make any sense flashed before my eyes.

Elizabeth was the only brave one to address the owner of the house. She was always one step ahead of us. Then, there was the way she guided us toward the correct answers and how impatient she was when we didn't see the answers instantly. It felt like she was personally invested in what was happening, and maybe that was because she WAS personally invested. Perhaps she was in on it from the beginning, and we were too blinded by her beauty and politeness to see it.

"I should check her injuries. It might give us some clues on what's going on here," Thomas said hurriedly.

"Why would you waste your time on that? I'm sure whoever was smart enough to put this whole thing together wouldn't have left any clues," Elizabeth said, her voice strained. "Besides, shouldn't we focus on waking Rogan up and doing what the guy told us to do so we don't end up like that poor woman."

"But..." Thomas started to say.

"Enough!" Elizabeth said sternly. "We need to live and let the dead rest in peace."

The snippet of conversation I had overheard while unconscious came to the forefront of my mind. I didn't even remember having heard it before, but it was like the hit to the head finally managed to get those cogs turning.

Then it all came rushing at me with the obviousness both I and poor Thomas had missed. How she was the one who told me to smash that surprisingly light armchair against the window, knowing it was just a prop or something and that it wouldn't do any damage. Then there was how Elizabeth always looked somewhere above us as if there was something there. It only then occurred to me that she must have been looking at the cameras, at the lunatic that was holding us hostage.