"Is this typically the kind of story you like reading?"
I walked forward through the author's world, joining Horikita.
She was watching intently as the main character tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together, appearing to be slowly drifting to madness.
He looked on the verge of having a breakdown.
Horikita put a hand out, indicating for me to be quiet.
This is already the third or fourth time she's done this, it's clear I've found a nice place for us to visit.
We watched as the character accidentally knocked something over. A bottle of ink.
All that happened in response was an hourglass breaking on the ground, and the sand from inside rushing out, but that was enough to set him off.
The idea that no matter how long he looked for the perpetrator, no matter how many leads he had, no matter how he tried to connect the dots, that none of it was coming to an end.
He keeps putting more and more time into his investigation, but he can't stop, or else it would all be for nothing.
All that time would have been wasted.
He went berserk, crying out in frustration as he picked up his cane and battered the table before him with it.
He had so much evidence and the like on the table, but it was just one table of many, it may not matter at all.
And it was that reason that may have also been frustrating.
Despite all this work that he's done, not all of it may even be helpful.
He continued to strike the table with his cane, over and over and over, yet taking extra care not to disturb any of the documents that were by the centre.
"Is my enemy god? He does nothing to give me solid connection, I see no point to any of the killings. None of them are done for any special reason, he targets unrelated people of both high and low society, good and poor health, virtuous and evil in nature. But such a man would not do so blindly, else by now I'd have cracked the code. He misleads by crossing off all of the major checks as well. Political, religious, radical, families, sciences."
Killings that have no clear connection, yet were all carried out by the same person.
The unforeseen antagonist of the book turned live experience is the source of this character's grief.
A detective who is on bad terms with the higher ups within the local police, and yet has a rather businesslike relationship with the common cops.
He's someone who can not drop a case he's started no matter what, someone who is typically revered for his detective skills and perseverance. However this man for the last two months has been fanatically searching for an end to the case he is currently working on.
It was interesting to watch him grow from being disinterested and laid back regarding the case, to curious and motivated, and now to obsessive and fanatical.
Still taking exhausting breaths from his earlier outburst, the man's stature noticeably slumped.
He was tired.
"Coffee, I should make some coffee."
The man took a step aside, but stumbled.
Perhaps from malnourishment, or simply because he was too tired, that very step was all it took for his body to fall.
He managed to catch himself by grabbing onto the desk before him, but it was at that time that he noticed he dug his fingers into a couple of different pieces of evidence. These were clearly labeled to be more important, unlike the ones from earlier.
YOU ARE READING
My New Life
Fanfiction"Do you not remember who you are?" "A monster." "He's a monster." "You're a monster!" "He's going to be a monster." "Who even are you?" "I'm a human, and the friend of your son. And it doesn't matter who you are, you'll regret it if you intend to ha...
