I was walking back and forth when my stomach made a sound. I looked at it and touched my belly. I'm hungry. There should be no problem with eating first, right?
I was dying in boredom while sipping my frappe when I heard some gossip about the 'mystery murder' in Tanauan City, Batangas—just kilometers apart from here. Then suddenly, someone opened the television in the restaurant and the news about what they are gossiping about was on the news.
According to the police chief, a body was found shot at the crime scene and was called by an anonymous caller at 8 pm. When they were searching for any evidence, they saw none. Even the CCTV footage near the street was all hacked and deleted. It was meticulously done by the suspect(s).
But earlier this morning, when they did another investigation and research in the crime scene, they saw a small padlock that sends the police team, a mystery. What is the connection of the padlock to the crime and why did the suspect(s) leave it on the crime scene. Would it lead them to the truth or the lies?
My eyebrows frowned and emptied my frappe. It is indeed, a mystery. Why would the suspect(s) leave a mark on the crime scene? I mean, yeah, there's no perfect crime but it's just weird since the police team did not see anything on the first day of investigation yet the other day, in a blink of an eye, a trace appeared? Well, unless, if it was just to confuse people and so the police team would have any choice but to close the case.
Like what happened to his case.
I stood up and left the restaurant. Thankfully, I didn't see that bastard. I'm not in the mood to ride on his jokes right now.
I feel like I'm on the clouds while going back to the house. I suddenly feel bad for the family of the victim. I knew how it hurts to see your loved ones in a terrifying death and now that a thing has appeared, you would hope that it could finally put justice to his/her death. But it would just turn out to be confusing and even more terrifying. How cruel the system we have now. If they think that the case would just waste their time and would not benefit them, they would just throw it away and forget about it as if it didn't happen at all.
I sighed. Why am I thinking this, anyway? Didn't I promise that I would never open that thought again? I looked deeply at the glass I'm holding. Just forget about it, Dilly. Hush it every time it would try to mess you again. Hush and bury it in the depth of your soul.
I stood up and laid down on my bed. Now that everything's a mess, my trust issues are peeking and trying to control me again. Please, stop. Just this once, let me decide on this. I need to save them.
I slowly got up from the bed and took the business card—one of the cards he threw at me. I don't know what has gotten to me that time but I came back to the room and accidentally saw his business card. I took my phone that was under my pillow and dialed his number.
It rang three times until someone finally answered. ["Hello?"] A voice of a woman was the first thing I heard—maybe his secretary.
"Hello. Is this the number of Mr. Valkyrie..." I looked at the card and read his surname. "...Stavinsky?"
I heard some noise from the call and a different person, answered, instead. ["I see. You saw the business card and called me. You've got a sharp eye, huh."] Yeah, I can easily point out who's an enemy and an ally.
"So? What should I do now?" I didn't mean to sound as if it's normal. It's just that, I don't feel nervous now for some reason.
["We're going to have a meeting later."] I was about to say something when I heard him again. ["Get the fuck out now!"]
My eyebrows frowned and had to put my phone away from my ear. There was a long silence after that so I just decided to hang up.
After a few minutes, my phone beeped. New message from Mr. Stravinsky.
Mr. Stravinsky
-In case you've already forgotten the way here, here's the location. You should be here at exactly 8 pm or early.
Then he sent his GPS location and I took a look at it before I get ready. It was already 7:35 pm when I finished and I immediately drove there to avoid getting late. I hate being late, you know.
As I take a step in, I can no longer hear any other sound but my loud heartbeat. It speaks the opposite of my confident and serious face like I wasn't a hostage here before.
And when I reached the door of the said office we're going to meet and discuss some things, I knew who I should only trust. And that will always be me. I'll never trust anyone here as I'd slowly get to know the real enemy of the battle I can't even assure myself that I'll win. The battle where the weapon I could only use is my strong trust in myself.
Because your enemy shouldn't be yourself. It should be the other way around.