Zodiac

♓ | i.

[SPENCER]

"Miss Bloome!"

A ruler snaps onto the rosewood desk that I am currently asleep and drooling all over as my body jolts into perfect posture and I let my eyes behold the face of Madame Anya, the "master bookkeeper" here at the beautiful UPenn Library. I push my black hair out of my face and wipe the drool from my mouth.

"Spencer, you've been here since the afternoon. Have you not found any muse for your final piece?!"

I frown and glare at the plethora of books surrounding me.

No I have not found a muse Mrs. Tight-ass... Muses don't exist, I've spent four years earning my damn bachelor's degree in English waiting for something to pop into my mind, and now I am here struggling to retrieve my master's with a burnt out brain and no ideas that come to mind.

I settle for a half-hearted smile at my boss and wave her words off. My graveyard shift at the library is almost over, and she was at least nice enough to even let me try and begin my assignment instead of taking inventory. The campus clock rings from outside as the clock strikes two o'clock in the morning. I sigh, gather the books around me, and begin my journey of putting them all back in their rightful places. As I finish I give one last wave at Madame Anya and make my way into the cold October night.

[♆]

The crisp Philadelphia air smacks my face instantly. I continue to walk across campus and nuzzle my nose deeper into my taupe scarf. The longer i continue my walk, the more my paranoia kicks in. The campus lights keep flickering with each step I take and my pace continues to quicken.Why the hell did I ever settle for working this late. Who the hell even allowed the library to stay open till two in the morning?!

I push all my thoughts away when my body halts to a complete stop.

In front of me stands an old vintage newspaper box covered in in an odd marking: ⛎.

My obsidian black eyes continue to be glued to the box. There is a newspaper enclosed inside. I force my legs to walk over to the mysterious little box and reach in to grab the paper.

"DEATH OCCURS ON CAMPUS!" The headline reads.

Death?... How did I not know about this?

"Honor Student, Logan Cole, found dead in Devil's Pocket. Coroners investigation identified a note compacted into the victims throat that reads ' No one ever wanted to play with a two-face anyways. Cause of death to be determined..."

My mind begins to wander and the blood begins to rush out of my porcelain face. The fact that this is so recent disturbs me. I continue to read the Obituary below.

"The Cole family as well as Aly Wolfe, Daughter of Caleb Wolfe and former Girlfriend of Logan Cole, are hosting a public funeral service to all friends and family of their beloved son, girlfriend, and friend at the local funeral home. All are welcome to come mourn and support the individuals suffering this great loss."

A morbid smile begins to creep on my face. As I look at the image of the lifeless Logan Cole, the note pulled out of his disgusting throat makes my heart leap with excitement. The same exact symbol on this box matches the symbol embossed into the signature of this mystery note.

There has to be a connection....

I quickly flipped the front page over to reveal the funeral service's date: October 15th.

Footsteps pound in my eardrums as something seems to be headed my way. I quickly roll up the newspaper and shove it into my bag and quickly pace to my car in front of me.

As I drive to my apartment, I can't help but to keep smiling..

The death of this boy is my key to my graduation... My final story...

This killer is my muse... And this Aly Wolfe is my key.