Look At The Mess I've Made

I Could Be Your Doomsday

I flip on the news, sighing when I see that there's been another murder, one of the people I graduated College with. The person had been a friend of mine through primary school, but we had drifted apart in our secondary. Same story as with the other 11 murders. All people I had once been friends with. I resume making my breakfast and get lost in thought regarding this "The Grin" character. I wonder who it could be, nobody really coming to mind. I smell burning and curse, shutting off the stove and moving my food off of the burner. I clean the mess up and just pour myself a bowl of cereal, grabbing a Pabst on my way to the table. I'm stopped by a loud knock on my front door, dropping my bowl in surprise. I groan and walk to the door, opening it with a glare ready for whoever just scared the shit out of me.

It's two police officers, and one has their hand raised to knock again.

"Oh! Our apologies, Mr. Stringer. We just came to inform you of the fact that we have a warrant to take you into protective custody following the latest murder. We request that you pack only the necessities, we will cover everything else. Leave a note for friends or family that may come check on you, tell them you are going on a vacation to Costa Rica or something. This is mandatory, for your safety of course." The shorter of the two officers says, cutting me off whenever I try to protest. I groan and step aside, letting them into my apartment. I go back to the broken bowl and spilled cereal, starting to clean it up while the officers walk through my apartment. I get the last of the milk off of the floor and then go into my room, grabbing a few changes of clothes and the bracelet that my best friend gave me when we graduated college together. I throw all the changes of clothes into my old backpack, and walk back out to the main area of my apartment, finding both officers standing in my doorway. One of them is holding a piece of black fabric, the other hands me a pair of clothes that are entirely not my style.

"We are going to have to put this over your head, to protect your identity in case anyone is watching the building." the taller one says, and I sigh. He hands me the clothes, and I put them on, along with the boots I am handed. I go to pick my bag up, but the shorter one surprises me by grabbing my outstretched arm and pulling it behind my back, handcuffing me. The black fabric turns out to be a black hood they drop on my head, preventing me from seeing. I stumble when I try to move away, and one of them catches me.

"Our apologies, Mr. Stringer. We need you to appear noncompliant, though. Don't be afraid to fight us a bit on the way to the car." I hear the shorter one say. I hear my bag being picked up, and they each take one of my arms. As soon as they do this, I struggle, making it look like I am using all of my strength but really barely challenging their hold. They lead me out of my apartment, and they pull the door shut before leading me to the elevator. I continue my "struggling" the whole time, and eventually they push me into their car. I feel one of them buckle me in, and the door slams shut. They get in a few seconds later, and I hear one of them typing.

"Hey, we are gonna drive you to the station. Don't worry, you are not in trouble in the least." I hear the taller one say as the car is started. He waits a second before continuing. "This is completely for your safety, you can go back once we catch this killer."

"What am I going to be doing until then?" I ask, feeling the car lurch into motion.

"You'll be in a form of Witness Protection, you'll learn more at the station." The shorter one says, before the car falls silent. I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable with the handcuffs on, but failing. I sigh and settle back down, closing my eyes because I still have the hood on and can't see anything anyways.

We pull up to the station, and I am lead into the station, the hood is pulled off once we have gone down a few hallways. The room we are in is dim, and theres a table in the middle.