Dead Angel •《A BuzzFeed Unsolved Fan Fiction》

Chapter 1

6 June ⚬ 16.34.22

Ryan POV

On his very clattered desk, Ryan Bergara furiously types away about his research on their latest case. His fingers race from letter to letter, editing his script.

Him and Shane were into their new season of true crime now, and as a dedication to all the show's fans, they have decided to look into cases that they had suggested. He had already done his research on the first nine, and as he scrolled down the comments he wondered what this season's finale would be.

A spine-chilling, hair-raising cold case would do just fine.

Maybe they could even visit the scene of the murder. A trickle of anticipation raced down his spine at the thought of visiting a murder scene. Even better, an unsolved one!

Opening a new document, he compiled the possible cases. There were just too many, so much it would be enough for the next two seasons. Signing, he tapped on Shane's desk, just beside him.

To his annoyance, Shane had not replied. He glanced over to see his friend nodding, aggressively, if he might add, to the music his headphones were blasting. Must be that rock music again, Ryan thought.

This time Ryan knocked on his earphones. Shane stopped rocking to the beat, staring at Ryan as if he had done something wrong. Ryan gestured to his laptop, and Shane unwillingly removed the earphones. Feigning irritation, he complained in a gruff voice, “If you want to ask me something, it better be quick, you interrupted my inspiration for the new song by the Risky Fixin’s.”

Ryan swallowed a lump of disgust down his throat. He did not like the Hot Daga, and the songs just made it worse. Not to say that Shane sung badly, but he sung horribly.

“Uh I’m sorry? Anyway, I wanted to ask you to choose a case for our season finale. I couldn’t decide so-” Ryan pushed his laptop towards Shane.

Shane took it from him, looking through each of the options. He hummed a little as he read it through before deciding on one.

“The 'Dead Angel' case sounds pretty fun,” Shane suggested, putting the laptop back on Ryan's lap.

“What do you mean ‘fun’?”

“Fun. Cool. Awesome,” Shane mumbled, barely paying attention. He had put his headphones back on, swiping through the song list.

Ryan shook his head, a smile on his face. “You’re weird.”

Shane heard him through his song. “Not as weird as you, Ricky,” he teased, grinning now.

Ricky? It took a moment for Ryan to realize Shane was referring to Ricky Goldsworth, a persona that Ryan was seen to be in connection with, an evil counterpart.

The thought of Ricky caused Ryan’s vision to blur, dark wisps emerging to cover the corners. An all too familiar spike lodged into Ryan's head. He bit his lip and tried to keep himself from wincing. The pain always sprung up and the mention of Ricky, and he would even black out sometimes, but he didn’t know why. Must be a coincidence, he thought.

He waited for the pain to subside, grimacing internally as he stared at the floor. He forced the feeling of floating away down, not wanting to let Ricky, whatever he was, take over him now.

Ryan had no clue about how he felt towards Ricky. It seemed a bit far-fetched that he would be possessed by a demon who would call himself ‘Ricky’, despite him being a firm paranormal believer, this did not rattle him. At the start, he was just a character he had acted as, nothing more.

But as the incidents involving Ricky increased, he felt more solid, more real. Yet something convinced him that Ricky was not a spirit/demon, instead someone more personal. Ryan did not know what to do so he decided to let it be.

Now it was almost routine. Every time anyone had mentioned Ricky, Ryan felt a catch open up within him, the sick part being he enjoyed it. He would regain consciousness, sometimes finding himself already moved a few meters from where he last remembered. He would have to rewatch the tape on what had happened, convinced that there was something wrong. Still, Ricky hadn't done anything illegal yet so Ryan didn't say anything.

“Ryan, you okay?” Shane asked, concerned. He must have saw through him. Shane had his hand on Ryan's shoulder, just like always when he was worried about Ryan. Ryan liked it, and he didn’t move away.

“I’m fine,” he tried to say it as convincingly as he could, never lifting his eyes to meet Shane's. I’m fine? He mocked himself, for that was an absolute lie.

“Oh...okay then,” came the uncertain reply.

There was silence, and the hand on his shoulder was gone. Ryan knew he could not hide it forever, he wanted to confide in somebody. That somebody would be Shane, but he was too afraid to confess. He’ll probably come up with some stupid theory, Ryan thought. You’re probably possessed! Oh no! Everybody run!

Still, it felt nice to be able tell somebody about the reoccurring pain. He was torn between options, giving up in the end.

Ryan took a deep breath, summoning enough courage to tell Shane. He carefully lifted his head, calling out for his friend.

As soon as he saw Shane tapping his fingers to the music, his eyes glued to the computer screen, he backtracked quickly, rethinking his rash decision.

No, maybe some other day, he reasoned with himself, a discomfort forming in his stomach. He would be fine for another day, wouldn’t he?

With growing unease, Ryan shifted his attention back to his research, ignoring the scratchy feeling in the back of his brain, calling for his attention, beckoning to be set loose. 

He popped a mint into his mouth, distracting himself, feeling the itch fade away. He knew that it will surface sooner or later, and it was not going to be pleasant.