It felt like ended as soon as it began, becoming a washed up worker of the journalism industry before I had even started. Journalism is definitely one of the grey areas present in society, its fruit of production is commonly available and usually highly demanded. Yet its means behind its production isn't always so savvy. That's where I come in, if I don't say so myself, I was one of the finest field researchers. Ashley Rickshaw, you could say I was even a private detective of sorts

I worked for a popular online news blog called 'The Sunshine Statement'. It was run by a user known as 'The Boss'. The Boss was a shrouded figure who was always seemed to be sending out jobs to free investigators to hunt for stories to report on. I personally never met The Boss in person but from what I heard at the time, they seemed to a fairly reliable and trustworthy employer. To ice the top of the cake, at the start of that year I was offered work by The Boss just after 6 months of unemployment. Which was perfectly timed as I was on the verge of breakdown due to my unemployment benefits being cut and being denied by my parents to move back in with them.

The Boss requested that I search for a man named Brandy Byrne.

Brandy Byrne, a name that sent chills down the spines of people not only working in the industry, but even most common people. He was a man renowned for his string of gruesome crimes committed over the last two decades in a group of small towns found out to the west. If it wasn't for my desperation for employment, I never would have accepted the job especially knowing the dangers associated with the criminal. The Boss said they were able to track him down to the outskirts of the town of Riverwood, which coincided with the location of one of Burne's most well known of all his crimes, the mass murder at the Gibraltar family gathering. I thought it was suspicious how The Boss managed to track down a man that has escaped the eyes of the law enforcement for decades. But I didn't bother to question it as I was seriously desperate for work and didn't want to lose what could have been my last opportunity at surviving.

On a business call with The Boss, a muffled voice stated that for every piece of evidence that I could gather I would be payed $1000. But there was only a time limit of two weeks to gather as much as I could. My mouth began to water at the sound of money being printed in my mind. My rationality now blurred by a vision of grandeur, I immediately prepared everything I needed for the investigation. Packing a couple sets of clothing, writing utensils and my favourite teddy bear Desmond, just in case I started to get home sick again on the job, all into my trusty suitcase.

The coach to Riverwood Central arrived at the station right onto time. I was not personally impressed by the quality of the coach but shouldn't have gotten my hopes high for a six hour long trip that I only payed $50 for. A few people, including myself, enter the coach. I head straight to the back and occupy the left side seat, placing my suitcase next to me. The population in the coach was fairly small with only around 8 people out of its total capacity of 35 people. I didn't look too much into the details of the town before I left but there probably isn't anything interesting there if there is small of a crowd. A sigh a relief of disappointment leaves my lungs knowing how mundane the job going to be but was still motivated by my desire to gain quick cash.

The ride was tough for myself. The seat were firm and uncomfortable. The music playing on the coach's speakers were constantly cutting off as we were travelling through the countryside. If that already didn't beat the fact that I didn't bring anything to do and get bus sick really easily. I started to stare out of the window into the scenery in an attempt to satisfy my boredom but the dense tree foliage made it hard to see anything interesting. The photo-phobic landscape caused my eyelids to become heavier and heavier, the weight eventually enough to force them shut.

I was woken up at a sudden by a women in a duffel coat.

"This is the final stop," she mumbled whilst staring at me with her lifeless eyes brown eyes. In which she then transitioned into a graceful turn and exited the coach. I rose from my seat, picked up my suitcase and shuffled out. Upon emergence into the town, I took a deep breath of the thick, dank air which had such a homely and nostalgic smell. I take out my phone and load up the map sent to me by The Boss after our final call. The image depicted a detailed map of the entire town but was impossible to read due to the range of black lines, symbols and markings covering it. After being able to decipher the markings and discern my location on the map I head to the first recommended location of interest mentioned by The Boss. It was an old motel called The Faeries' Inn, which was supposedly a popular place for the towns people to relax during the working week. It was a good starting point for the investigation but could also provide a place for me to stay in for the duration of the investigation.

The scattering of rocks flung around by my feet on the blank street echoes through the eerily empty town. I take it step by step but it only feels as if the grey wasteland continues to stretch further and further away from me. The absence of people was especially alarming for me. Where is everyone? What happened to all the passengers that disembarked from the coach earlier? Questioning the strange environment lead to more questions than answers, so I dragged the irrational thoughts out of my mind and proceeded with the task at hand.

After what seemed like hours of walking, I finally arrived at The Faeries' Inn. I enter and was immediately greeted by an immersive and convivial aura. Relief fills my body from head to toe. I head over to the counter and introduce myself to the bartender. "Hello, i'm Ashley Rickshaw and I would like to book a room for two weeks."

"You're at the wrong place," he replied whilst glaring straight into my soul, "just head to the counter over there and he'll fix you up." I nod at him in reply and head in the direction he pointed. Upon arrival at said counter I asked the woman behind it "I would like to book a room two weeks please."

"One bedroom?" she responds.

"Ah.. Yes," I answer. She hands me a set of keys and shoos me away. I head up the staircase, my knees starting to give in thanks to the long walk to get here. I arrive at an elongated corridor. A sign at the branching intersection displays arrows pointing in opposite directions. The left arrow labelled with rooms one to ten and right with rooms eleven to twenty. I check the branded wood block on my room key, which even in its worn state is still able to identify the room number as five. I take the path to the left and head down to my designated room.

At the arrival at room five which was notably unique from the rest as the door was covered in colonies of mould and smelt of rotting flesh. I slid the key into the lock and twisted it until it made a clear and loud clunk. I pulled the key out of the lock, turned the knob and pushed open creaky door. The door opened to reveal a surprisingly pleasant room. I drop my suitcase onto the floor near the bed and head back down to the main area.

As I had reentered the main room, a large man man approaches me. "Your not from around these parts are you?" he asked.

"No I am not," I stuttered in reply whilst wiping off the beads of sweat beginning of to form on my forehead.

"My name's Alfred, you can just call me Al," he states cheerfully. It confused me as his tone of voice and looks were the definition of contrasting. "I'm the owner of this motel."

"Your just the person I was looking for." I claimed.

"Hmm," questioned Al. "Well come into my office and I'll do what I can."

Together we enter his office. It's a fairly small room with a desk located in the centre of the room, chairs on either side of the desk. I take a seat on the closest chair and Al takes the other.

"So, how can I help you?" Al asks concerning.

"My name is Ashley Rickshaw, I'm here in Riverwood to investigate the whereabouts of Brandy Byrne. Al stares at me for a second, then bursts into sudden laughter. "Dear Ash, you'll never find a man like him no matter what I tell," he exclaims comically. "But I'll let you in on something that might helpful."

"And what might that be?"

"Well I can't just tell you, it's going to cost you a little."

I nod and pull my wallet out of my pocket. I slip out an $100 note and slide it across the desk. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" Al shouted with glee. "Well here it is!"

Al went on and on. He talked about a range stories that had been shared around by the townspeople, most of which seemed to be unrelated to the subject matter. But one in particular caught my attention and made the story time worth paying the $100 dollars for. He recounted the events that a regular at the motel's bar told him. How under the Dawn Bridge on the very edge of Riverwood West at midnight on many occasions an extremely bright and unnatural light shone. Al also handed me map of the western side of the city, marking where said bridge was as well as giving me his telephone number in case something happens. His pleaded that his reasoning being that he doesn't want to get lost as I was unfamiliar with the city. It seems like it's a common occurrence to get lost in the streets here in Riverwood.

His worrying began to make me suspicious. How come people get lost here? I mean I walked about a kilometre and half through many blocks of buildings to make it to the inn from Riverwood Central. Yet as unfamiliar as I am I made it here in good time. The view on the streets are as clear as daylight. The buildings are distinctive enough to be able to identify your location. I held the thought at the back of my mind.

I notice that the feeling of emptiness is still evident in the streets, not a single soul to be seen. I kick rocks on the pavement side, trying to find something is can fill the void left in the desolate streets of this modern wasteland. The clack of the rocks hitting the concrete ground echoes throughout the city side, even into my mind. It made me think more and more about how strange this place really was. Even though Riverwood was only the quarter of the size of an average city, it was still housed a fairly large population size. Yet how come there seemed to be nobody here. I shook the thoughts out of mind as I continued down to the edge of the town.

Once the bridge reached my sight, I was filled with anticipation to finally do something today that didn't walking through such a lifeless town. It was a pretty spectacular bridge, a plaque on the side dated the opening of the Dawn Bridge back to October of 1933. So it's fairly safe to say that its structural integrity is still relatively sound. I climb down a sandstone staircase which leads to the bottom level of the bridge. From the top it definitely seems much bigger than it actually is, as I walk down the staircase I try to proportion myself to the bridge. I estimated that if I stacked 30 Ashleys on top of each other, all of which were standing, then it might just be the same size. Which if I think about now, would probably be fairly tall.

Upon reaching the bridge's bottom wharf, which is surprising well lit considering how far below ground level we are. I search the walls for some kind of sign of trace to a possible bright light. How bright would something have to be to shine out from down here to be seen from around the city? The answer is pretty damn bright. There were no sign of electrical light sources down here but even then there are no commercial products that can shine that bright. The problem continued to rack my brain. What if a person had access to a really bright light? What if they were fireworks? If they were fireworks then people wouldn't be telling stories as people know well what fireworks look like. My only solution was to check it out again at midnight tonight to see if anything happens.

I returned to room number five prepared myself for the mission and rested in my room until. approximately, 11 pm. The walk to the bridge at night seemed to be much worse than what I expected it to be. I felt like it would feel that same as during the day but with an absence of light. The empty and eerie nature injunction with the cityscape covered with darkness give it a sinister and oppressive feel. The wind would catch onto my neck, shivers were constantly running down my spine. "I wish I could just stay home" I thought as I began to increase the pace of my walk over to the Dawn Bridge.

I managed to arrive at the bridge in good time, which I was very hopeful for. I sat my exhausted self down, after the traumatising but uneventful speed walk, beside the staircase leading to the underneath of the bridge. I pulled out my phone and began to countdown the seconds until midnight. But once 12:00 had been struck there was not a light to be seen, I was fairly disappointed especially after the effort to make it here. I climbed down the tall flight of stairs with cautious speed to see if anything had changed at the bottom. Once at the bottom the mood began to become oppressive. The volatile air caused my eyelids to flicker in agony and shivers to run throughout my body. I covered my eyes in fear and forced my head against the ground. A violent wind began to brew. The aggressive tailwind started to whip my helpless self over and over again. This agony continues for a second upon second, minute upon minute. Until it eventually just, dissipated.

I rose from the find a glowing orb on the ground in front of my shaking body. Shocked by the previous agonising events, I fall onto my back in fear of its sinister power. It echoed through my head, "why me", over and over and over again. Why did it have to me to be chosen for this job. I did nothing wrong. I been trying my best since the start. Please. Give me another chance. Just one more. Mum. Dad. Anyone?

The orb began to glow brighter and brighter, my fear corresponding to the level of light emitted. Then it spits out a power radiance of light and I feel absolutely nothing.

Nothing, at, all.

I was woken up at a sudden by a women in a duffel coat.

"How are you feeling," she mumbled whilst staring at me with her lifeless eyes brown eyes.

"Terrible," I reply with a feeling of deja vu, "but where am I exactly?"

"Hmm. Well perhaps this will jog your memory," she mumbled whilst pulling a white glass ornament out from her jacket pocket. It began to glow in her small hand, a feeling a despair rushed throughout my body. She clicked fingers and I felt myself bind to the chair. I began to freak out, I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins with no sign of stopping. I was struggling to escape the bind with all my might. She moved her face close to mine, with out noses only millimetres apart. "I guess that was never going to help you identify where we are," she states placidly, the warmth of her breath felt on my face. My face twitched with disgust. "What are going to do with me," I stutter with trepidation. In which she responded with a comforting "you're right here."

"What?"

"It's hard to explain but you'll understand it later on."

We for minutes we stared at each other eye to eye, not a single movement from either of us. She wore a sassy smile on her face. One that contrasted with the lifeless eyes that she had earlier.

"So, how are you enjoying your stay in Riverwood?" She asked.

"I haven't even been here long, I already want to leave, mostly thanks to you."

"Is that so, what about your investigation?"

"Wha... How do you know about that!" I reply in hesitation.

"Well i'll let you in a little secret about your job," she states with a tall grin on her face, "Your not going to find anything about Brandy Burne in Riverwood." After which she began to giggle.

"What do you mean?" I cry out in desperation, in fear of losing my large paycheck from The Boss.

"Well, its due to that fact that he's not even here. Besides all the information that anyone would need to know about him from here was already collected years ago by police investigation."

The level of despair reaches an all time high. Not only did I experience that life-threatening mishaps last night but now my livelihood is also being threatened. The girl began to speak again "I guess I didn't introduce myself properly, my name is Cynthia and if you didn't realise already i'm pretty special."

"How so?"

"Well everything that's happened to you once you entered the coach to Riverwood Central has been under my will." Confusion makes itself present loud and clear and clear in my mind. "What do you mean?" I ask, "So i'm under your control?"

"Well in a way yes," she replies, "would care for me to explain?"

I nod in reply.