A Detective's Story

Chapter Five

I didn't expect him to show up after what happened.

He is still wearing the balaclava and the hoodie.

Along with some sweatpants.

That honestly reminds me, let's do todays outfit check!

I know we haven't established those but cmon, why wouldn't y'all wanna hear about my outfit of the day.

Today, I am more simple and comfy.

I am wearing a cream colored lace tank top with beige sweatpants.

They are very big but that's what makes them good.

Some guys called me flat in the 9th grade . . . one of them was that bastard Nathaniel.

I've been kind of insecure ever since.

Even though my butt isn't flat.

It's gotten bigger since then, but their words stick with me.

But honestly, what did they expect.

I'm sorry I was studying instead of doing my squats.

Explains why I had higher grades them.

Well actually, I had higher grades than everyone.

But that's not the focus right now.

I see Mr. Coffee walking towards the counter and ordering.

Y'all might be wondering how I know it's him.

Like I said before, there are no people with green eyes here . . . except for him.

You couldn't guess my shock when he points to my table and starts walking over

Did he tell the waiter we were eating together or something?

Well, that's the least of my worries.

I start to study the sharpness of all my utensils. 

The knife is a little dull but the fork could definitely do some damage. 

He sits down in front of me, this is probably the most terrified I've ever been if I am being honest.

He kind of just sits there, observing my face.

What if he's trying to analyze his face so he can recognize me when he wants to kill me?

I squint my eyes, glaring at him.

"You got a problem, Mr. Coffee?" I say pointedly.

He chuckles, which surprises me.

"You're quite humorous, you know that?" he says with smirk.

"I do know that." I say sternly, not wanting to entertain any conversations.

He chuckles again.

His voice is quite deep, that's something I'll add to the description.

"What's a pretty lady like you doing with so much attitude?" he says with a taunting smirk.

I scoff  and stand up, with my hands leaning on the table.

I don't want to cause a scene, even though I noticed a large amount of people left the cafe when he came in.

Which is smart.

I decide to keep my comments quiet anyways. 

"Look, Mr, if you think I am going to entertain conversations with a know serial killer. I don't even know why I am still talking to you." I say sternly.

I pick up my briefcase and begin to walk past him, until he grabs my arm.

"What the fuck are you-" I say before being interupted by his finger pressing up against my lips, as if I am a little child.

This fucking infuriates me.

"I know how to get you out." he says, with a sly smirk on his face.

"What the fuck do you mean-" I say before being interupted once again.

"Hush little one." he says before I take the chance to interupt him as well.

"Don't you dare call me that. Your a killer. I don't sympathize with you. You're a fucking serial killer." I say angrily.

I make sure to keep my tone down so no one finds anything suspicious.

"You know I do it for a reason-" he starts before I interupt him.

"I don't care. And plus, you just made it much easier for me to send you straight to jail."  I say with a smirk.

Little does he know, I already called the police.

And they are on their  way.

Did you guys really think I was stupid enough to talk to him and not send him to jail?

If so, then I clearly gave the wrong impression.

Maybe it's because you read my thoughts, and they are very silly.

But remember, I am the Detective.

I am smart, cunning, and for the most part logical.

And I know what I'm doing.

And my smirk widens as I hear the sirens and see those familiar red and blue lights.

I than release myself from his grip, which I am surprised.

Because I know he is stronger than that, it's quite obvious.

But whatever, I escaped, and that's all that matters.

I reach the exit as soon as the police step out of their calls.

I watch with satisfaction as he is being detained.

He's about to be stuffed in the back of the police car, where he belongs before I hear something that floors me.

"___ wait! You can't fucking do this to me!" he yells.

Usually, I would have bit back, knowing it's now the time for the criminal to go where they belong.

But, he said my name.

No one knows my name . . .

Except for one person.