Bound By Sin

"He Was A Bit Blonde."

The dimly lit interrogation room smelled faintly of coffee and sweat. Detective Blackwood sat across from Ron, his fingers tapping absently on the edge of a notepad. Beside him, Detective Caldwell leaned against the wall, arms folded, her sharp eyes fixed on the boy. Ron, who lived just a few streets away from where the latest murder took place, was visibly nervous. He fidgeted, wringing his hands, eyes darting between the detectives as though he was trying to convince himself he was safe here.

"Take your time, Ron," Blackwood said gently, his voice low and deliberate. "We just need you to walk us through everything you saw. Every detail matters."

Ron swallowed hard, nodding but not speaking right away. The weight of what he had seen was pressing down on him, so thick he could almost feel it in his lungs. When he did speak, his voice was a near whisper. "I didn't... I didn't know what I was seeing at first."

"What do you mean?" Caldwell's voice was firmer, drawing Ron's gaze up to him.

"I was just walking home," Ron explained, his words coming faster now, as though he had to push them out before he lost his nerve. "It was late—maybe... maybe around midnight. I heard something, like... like someone was talking. Arguing, I guess. So I got curious and went closer." He hesitated again, his brow furrowing. "That's when I saw them."

Blackwood straightened slightly in his chair, leaning in closer. "Saw who?"

"The... the killer," Ron's voice trembled, and his hands gripped the edge of the table as though he was holding on for dear life. "And... and the guy he... he was gonna..." His breath hitched, and he wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. "They were in the alley behind Ashbury Street, near the old pawn shop."

"Can you describe the killer?" Caldwell pressed. Her voice remained calm, but Ron could feel the urgency beneath it.

Ron blinked, trying to pull the memory into focus. His heart was racing again, as if he was back in that alley, peering into the darkness. "He was... a bit blonde," he said, almost surprised by his own words. He wasn't sure why that detail stuck with him, but it did. "Not, like, super blonde, but... light hair, I think. It was hard to tell in the dark. And he was tall. I couldn't see his face, though. He kept it turned away from me."

Blackwood nodded, scribbling quickly in his notepad. "Okay, blonde. Tall. Anything else?"

Ron shook his head, his mind fogging as he tried to recall the rest. Then, as if the memory hit him all at once, his voice dropped to a terrified whisper. "He... he said something."

Caldwell took a step forward, her eyes narrowing. "What did he say?"

Ron swallowed again, his face going pale. His eyes darted around the room, like he was scared to say it aloud. But then he spoke, his words slow and deliberate, each one heavier than the last. "He said, 'Of course I'm gonna kill you. What did you think? That I brought you here to watch a movie and eat popcorn?'"

The words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a heavy silence over the room. Blackwood and Caldwell exchanged a glance, their faces grim.

"You're sure that's what he said?" Blackwood asked, though there was no doubt in his voice.

Ron nodded quickly, his eyes wide. "I'm sure. I heard him clear as day. He said it like... like it was a joke or something. But his voice... it was cold. It was like he didn't even care." He shuddered, his arms wrapping around himself as though trying to fend off a chill.

Caldwell moved from her spot on the wall and sat down next to Ron, her tone softening. "What happened after that?"

"I..." Ron's voice broke for a moment, and he looked down at his lap. "I ran. I just... I turned and ran the opposite direction as fast as I could. I didn't look back. I was too scared. I didn't even want to know if he saw me."

"You don't think he noticed you?" Caldwell asked, a subtle edge creeping into her voice.

"No. No, he didn't see me." Ron shook his head vehemently, his voice quivering. "I swear, I was hiding behind the dumpster at first, and then when I heard him say that... I just bolted. There was no way he could've seen me. The alley was dark, and I was far enough away. I was so scared that he might though, that he'd come after me next."

Blackwood, still jotting notes, looked up at Ron. "You did the right thing, running. But Ron, you've gotta understand something. This guy... he's dangerous, and if he knew you were there..."

Ron cut him off, his voice cracking. "I know! I know, okay? I've been going over it in my head ever since. But he didn't. I swear he didn't see me." His breath was coming faster now, panic creeping into his voice. "I mean, why would he leave me alive if he saw me? He didn't see me."

The detectives were silent for a moment. The hum of the overhead light buzzed faintly, the only sound in the room. Caldwell finally spoke, her voice low and calming. "We believe you, Ron. But you understand why every detail is important. You might be the only witness to have seen this guy, to have heard him."

Ron nodded, his face pale, his hands trembling in his lap. "I just... I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know if he was gonna kill me too."

Blackwood stood, closing his notebook. "You did the right thing by coming to us. You're safe now. But we need you to stay quiet about this, alright? Don't go telling anyone what you saw. The more people who know, the more danger you could be in."

Ron nodded again, but his mind was still replaying the scene in the alley—the dark figure, the chilling words. He could still hear them, echoing in his head, sending waves of dread through him.

Caldwell gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "We're gonna catch this guy. You've helped us more than you know."

But as Ron left the station, the air outside felt heavy and oppressive, as if the killer's presence still lingered. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see that figure watching him from the shadows.

In the distance, the streetlights flickered, and the wind whispered through the trees, but Ron didn't hear it. His heart was still pounding, his legs tense, ready to run again if needed.