Hope you guys enjoyed the last chapter. I've actually finished the story but I will only update once a week. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
As Maverick was getting dressed the next day, he muttered to himself quietly, “My wife has been murdered and I’m leading the search to find her killer? They trust me to not go off track due to emotional stress?”
He got into his car and started on his way to the police station. When he arrived at the station, the tension was so thin that you could cut it with a knife. He went to his desk to find a stack of files, ‘Suspects’ he thought to himself. He sat down and readied himself for what was to come. He started looking through the files.
He sped through it and finished looking through the files within the hour. Suddenly, a voice whispered in his ear and said, “You know why they won’t find the killer.” He stopped what he was doing, scared out of his wits about what he had just heard. He turned his head, trying to match the voice to a face. He couldn’t find anyone to match. ‘Did no one hear that?’ he thought to himself.
The day was fine enough but even so, his mind still drifted to what the voice had said. ‘What does it mean? What’s happening to me?’
When he got home later that day, he heard the whisper again. ‘Guilty. You are guilty.’He started worrying. He was panic-stricken.
“I need to tell someone.” He said to himself. He picked up the phone to book appointments with a counsellor and a psychologist.
The first appointment, the next day, was to the counsellor. He told the counsellor what had happened and what he had heard. She gave him some techniques to escape the voice. Sleeping was strongly recommended.
When he’d told the psychologist what had happened, she gave him a bottle of medication. He didn’t know what they were for but she instructed him to take one every day. The medication worked, for a few days; he lost track of those days.
The whisper poked out again, a few days later. ‘It’s nearly time. You will soon find out what really happened.’
During the days, he’d found out what the medication did. It was supress to the voice. He ran to the bottle and sculled half of the pills. He passed out and woke up three hours later.
‘Man, what happened?’ he thought.
‘It doesn’t matter what happened. Only what’s to come.’ The voice had returned.
