Every Breath You Take

Memories (Arthit)

I slept surprisingly well last night. It's not actually a surprise though, since becoming a detective I have learned to sleep less and wherever I can. Plus, this was a really nice bed and I had my favorite thing to cuddle with after I fought him off of course. He actually wanted to do it here. Here! He said it would help release stress.

When I finally pry my eyes open I see that Kongpob is still asleep. Well isn't that a turn of events: me awake and Kongpob asleep? I sit and watch him for a few minutes before I have to get up. Damn bladder. He looks quite nice while he's sleeping. When I get back he's already awake and I curse my bad luck.

"What are the plans for today?" Kongpob asks.

"Well seeing as I am no longer on the case, I go and sit at the station doing paperwork. What about you?" I ask.

"I was going to stay with you." He says like that was common sense.

"No. You have your own work. I'll be at a police station surrounded by police officers all day. I'll be fine." Thinking about it maybe he should stay with me.

"You know what..."

"I know what you're thinking but I work for the Baramees. I'm safer than you are." He says.

I manage a weak smile but I know I can't hide my worry. Sure now we have this piece of the puzzle but I still feel miles away from an answer. There's no real pattern here. Serial killers have a type and sometimes we can try to predict possible victims from that or find out a pattern but that's not the case here. I have virtually nothing to go on.

How many people may have a common nickname, part of our names, same hobby, possible feature or habit? There are too many unknown variables. I feel like pulling my hair out right now and as stupid as it sounds I feel party responsible. One thing is for sure, this is not the original author of the story who's doing this. He died, three years ago.

I remember when Toota first brought it to me. He was taking a class and decided to write a thriller about us. He'd written up until the last of our friend's had been killed but then as a twist the reader found that it was a conspiracy to trick the protagonist, which was my character, and that none of the victims had actually died.

He of course got an A on the assignment. How could he not, we all helped out on it.

During fourth year he called our group together and he was clearly upset. He showed us a new panel. I remember wondering if he was taking another art class. Staring at it I couldn't believe that he decided to take the story in a new direction, but his expression told us that something was off.

"I didn't do this." He simply says.

The art was identical and considering the fact that we all had a hand in the drawing it would have been virtually impossible to copy. Bright was the first to grab the sheet and scrutinize it. It's hard to imagine but Bright is actually very detail oriented. No one realized just how much until he graduated Valedictorian. When he walked on stage he shrugged at our confused expression as if it was no big deal.

"There's a signature here." He says pointing out a bleeding heart.

The flower not an actual heart dripping blood.