Chapter 9: Good (Bad) Cop

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QOTD: Have you ever cosplayed as anybody?

While your body sat still, your mind ran wild with the unbearable thoughts of what the whispers outside the door could mean.

It was much more unnerving when you took a quick look at the items placed out in front of you: Handcuffs, Tasers, Pocket knives, and several bloody bandages shoved into the trash can.

Even your own boss scared the heck out of you. Being held hostage in a cramped room was better than having this burning ache of anxiety.

Ms. Darling finally enters her own office with an expressionless face, standing along side Nate and a large bulky man in handcuffs.

Nate seemed concerned for the large muscular man.
"Officer please! He has nothing to do with-"

"A civilian like you wouldn't know anything about knowing a suspect when you see one."

Out of the blue, an extremely deep voice breaks the thick tension.
"I was only trying to find Amy! She left last night and I was trying to apologize-Shut up!"

Everyone in the facility went quiet. The building shook as so did everyone's fears.

The man's expression changes into a more softer and worried one. He glances over at you, scanning over each one of the bandage wraps on your legs and arms. You were covered in bruises that sank into your skin.

He shakes his head in denial, "No No No...I didn't do that did I? I'm so sorry."

He tries to step closer to you but Ms. Darling forcefully pulls him back by his handcuffs. Nate guards you in case the suspect is loose.

Ms. Darling stops her heel on the ground, gaining Nate, you, and the suspect's attention.
"Before you get any ideas, we'll be taking you to the interrogation room." She pulls harder on the freezing cold metal around his wrists and stomps out of her office.

You turn to Nate.
"Who was that?"

He sighs and gently pinches the bridge of his nose.

"That was one of my good friends. We haven't kept in touch for a while though. He used to do fun little project and musicals with me but, now....
I don't know why. He just snapped after going on a trip with his friends."

You rest your fingers gracefully on his shoulder. "I promise I'll try to reason with him."

You caught your boss in the corner of your eye backing out of her parking spot with Nate's friend in the back seat.

Unsteady and nervous, you follow behind the police car with blinding lights inside your own rusted car.

Intently gazing at the back of her car only made you more anxious than you already were. This wasn't your first time doing this. But, this was the only time you've ever been acquainted with the accused.





As the one-sided mirror blocked you from facing the other side, the bulky man sat still; hands folded and shoulders arched. His right eye steadily locks onto the dusty mirror, full of anticipation.

The elegant woman breathing on your ear finally spoke, "I'll allow you to interrogate him. You have some experience with this, don't you? I will leave you to it."

Your bare hand rested on the door knob, but not until Ms. Darling interrupts.
"Just be careful....I don't want another incident like before."

Without another word, your black classy oxfords clack against the cracked concrete floor. The man behind the chair's attention was brought to you. He began mumbling words of madness,
"You lacked in the fact that I don't know which for Post-Nomostink...

Why don't you gruel on it.
Same foreign as ever.
Listen, under the tablecloth punt.
Do you understand me?
Nobody does."

"Mark."
His head shot up to try and stare me down from the mer mention of that name. Before he even got a chance to ask a single question, you finished where you left off.
"That's your name, right? I'm not here to lock you up. I am here to get answers."

You were only met with silence while Mark processed this new information. With a loud sigh, he told his story.
"I was only trying to look out for my girlfriend...We've been...dating for 3 years now. I feel like I was doing a good job until she started leaving the house more often. I still don't know why. I really miss her."

Full of sympathy, you place a gentle palm on top of his own. It was so odd how cold his hand was. So cold that his fingertips had a gradient of a light gray.

Mark's eyes met your own with a strange aura. You attempt to suppress the fact that you, inch by inch, we're moving away from the stranger challenging you with his dark brown eyes. With soft and deceiving words he spoke,


"Did you miss me?"

Deception: NatemarexReaderWhere stories live. Discover now