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Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎ #１０

Connor and I walked into the bathroom together with mixed feelings. We were both excited that the investigation was taking a successful turn, but the fact that Connor was currently licking blood off of his fingers made that excitement quickly die.

Surely that can't taste good. I figured, recoiling in disgust and fighting the urge to vomit. However, as grotesque as the action seemed, Connor looked unfazed throughout the whole process. Even going so much as to lick it twice!

"Well?" I asked, trying to hide my disgust behind an expression of intrigue as I picked up a dismembered LED. If the suspect was in fact an android, (which all the evidence, witness report, as well as case file suggested) then this LED was probably something they parted with...

By ripping it out of their android skulls.

"Very fun." I muttered, twirling the LED in my hand. It was a calming blue hue that reflected off of my skin, and yet it felt very cheap too. Its edges were jagged and cut, like a bottle cap. Yet, it was very decisive evidence and I wasn't about to write off its worth either. Connor took one glance at it and swiftly informed Hank of his discovery. Hank barked back a snarky comment, but I didn't bother to listen. Instead, I was fixated on something much more disturbing on the wall. The LED laying on the rim of the porcelain sink was already old news.

Obsessive scrawling was present on the wall. Over and over and over were the words RA9. Etched into every single corner, every single blank space, every tile was a different looking RA9. It was constant, and it was ominous. Almost like a cult worshipping their make-believe god.

Was RA9 a god for androids, or just some evidence that their suspect was completely bonkers. I prayed that it was the latter, but by the looks of things, this anxious writing was definitely planned.

"Any idea what it means?" Hank asked when he arrived, but of course I had no answer. Who could possibly know what this insane cult crap meant? Maybe another deviant, but surely not some human who had no idea what was going on in any android's head.

"rA9 written 2,471 times. It's the same sign Ortiz's android wrote on the shower wall. Why are they obsessed with this sign?" Connor spoke. His words carried a heavy conviction unlike before. Whether that conviction was for better or for worse had yet to be determined.

"Almost looks like mazes or something." Hank commented. My mind immediately flashed back to the ominous notebook, and the strange hexagonal maze etched into the wall in the main room. For once, Hank had contributed something very important to this conversation.

"Y/n. I've reconstructed the scene based on that knocked over stool in the corner." Connor said.

Just as he had said, there was indeed a stool laying on its side in the corner of the bathroom. A marker was also present on the floor.
"The suspect must've been writing here when they heard us, right?" I asked Connor. The android gave a curt nod, and then beckoned me into the living room. He glanced at me as if he expected me to figure something out. "Then, in a hurry he ran into the living room. Knocking down the stool in the process..." I murmured, earning a nod from Connor.

"The suspect ran into the living room, and once he did-" Connor froze, then pointed at the birdcage that lay on its side. "He knocked down the birdcage from its position, and it fell. That's probably when we entered, and he probably heard us at that point."

Connor's explanation was flawless and interesting. It brushed off any previous questions I had before, making it seem like a complete case summary. The amount of effort that went into the case summary was outstanding, and even reminded me of a Japanese murder mystery game that I had played once.

Though I didn't dare make that comment in an official police setting.

I glanced over at the white armchair beside the entrance. If the suspect had been running towards the entrance when he heard us, then surely we would've seen him going out through the window if he fled. Meaning...

"The suspect is still here." I murmured.

Connor slowly walked over to the opening in the ceiling, the one that you could only reach if you climbed into via the armchair. By now, my heart was thudding in its chest, even more so when Connor fell backwards, and Hank stumbled back in an attempt to get away from a cluster of pigeons. A large figure quickly dropped from the ceiling, and sprinted out of the room. With both Connor and Hank temporarily stunned, that only left me to chase him.

"Fuck!" I yelped, never being one for endurance as I began to run after the deviant. It wasn't an easy chase, seeing as how he threw a shit ton of furniture in my way as he ran.

However, I was not about to back down.

Connor quickly ran after me, staying within a five meter radius of me as I chased after the suspect. We both somehow lost each other between different routes, though our target remained the same.

"Holy shit." I heard Hank breath out from afar. Unlike Connor, who was re-enacting a full on movie police chase, I was taking a slower route that would allow me to corner the suspect. "Sorry gotta go!" I called out to Hank, though I doubt he heard me.

Just as Connor was probably blindly headbutting his way through a cornfield, Hank was chasing after me as I was confronted by our suspect.

This... wasn't exactly how I thought things would turn out though. For now I was quite literally hanging off the side of a building.

The fall wasn't long. In fact the ground was closer than it probably looked, but even with that thought I couldn't stop the sweat that drenched my forehead, or the unnerving lurch in my stomach as my grip weakened. In the corner of my vision I caught sight of Connor emerging from the corn field.

And as soon as that frightening moment had arrived, it was over. Four strong hands yanked me up from the roof, gently and firmly pulling my back onto the beloved grown.

We'd lost the suspect.

"I-It's all my fault." I choked out, tears threatening to spill, "I thought I could help but I just ended up making you guys lose him."

Yep, tears were spilling.

My face was red and crinkled up with hurt. Not wanting them to see me in such a state, I shielded my face with the sleeve of my hoodie and wiped my eyes until they felt sore.

"I'm not sure what I should do. I haven't experienced a girl crying before." I overheard Connor through my ugly sobs.

"Comfort her ya idiot!" Hank yelled.

"By comfort, do you mean patting her on the back and saying words like there, there?"

"Of course not! I mean like... hugging n' shit."

"Then I guess I'll hug her."

Moments later, Connor did exactly as he said he would. The hug was shaky, and awkward, as if he didn't know what to do, but the gesture was very much appreciated.

As I hugged him back, all my worries went away.