The sun was rising. Red, pinks, and oranges flooded the sky. They rose over the mountain tops and shone down on the grazing horses in the field below the mansion. With all this beauty it was hard to remember that someone had been murdered just the night before, and that while the victim lay bleeding on the grass, people were partying as though nothing had happened.
Inside, wine glasses lay lolling on the ends of tables and confetti settled on the floor. It was the time of the Depression, and the rich just got richer. The old organ looking over the living room still echoed its last note, and at six o'clock in the morning a loud rap emanated from the door.
Tom Lauren was most likely sick. Or maybe just overly tired. But as soon as the knock was heard he shot up out of bed, Vi still sleeping. Looking very formal in his bathrobe and hair frazzled, he opened the door - to find no one.
"Hello?" Cracked a voice. It sounded like rocks being stepped on by steel-toed shoes. It was the queerest voice that Tom had ever heard.
"Uh, yes?" Tom cracked the door open a little more to reveal the strangest little man. He was Chinese, about three feet tall, with wispy grey hair and humongous glasses. In fact, his glasses were so huge that they magnified his eyes tenfold. The man was dressed in a navy blue suit with a maroon and navy striped tie. However, the most peculiar thing about him was that in his old and wrinkled hands he tossed a metal ball. It seemed like it had no smudges from fingerprints whatsoever, and the weight of it must of been unbearable because it was of course not hollow.
"Hello Mr. Lauren." Said the little man in a voice that hinted of a Chinese accent. "I am Doctor Sigan Lee. I am here to help you investigate." And with that he flipped open a wallet, clearly stating that he was a doctor, and not some victim of the Depression, desperately searching for a job.
"I did hire a detective, but..."
"You were not expecting me, is that it? Do not judge people by their size, Mr. Lauren. I will find this murderer, I guarantee. For now, is there breakfast? I am sure it would be much nicer to talk this over a nice meal rather than out in this chill." Tom stepped back a little, surprised by the 'power' this little man thought he had, yet Tom needed to rid his mind of the plague that was this mystery, so he invited in the Doctor, and ordered the servants off to make some delightful Sunday bacon.
Meanwhile, Vi was having a nightmare. Not your normal scary monster nightmare...no, this was more...abstract and unnerving. In her dream, Violet Smith was walking along a beach at sunset. The waves lapped listlessly at the grainy sand, and she was barefooted, letting her feet sink into the watery tan. The sunset was the most unnatural aspect of this dream though. She had forced her eyes down to her feet, to avoid the tumultuous anger that exploded from the brightest most supernatural red in the sky. When at once she glanced up, she scared herself too much, and reverted her gaze back onto her feet. But her hands and feet were now covered in blood. At that moment she woke up to a beautiful morning, and screamed.
