SHAY
My mother had the most beautiful chestnut brown locks that cascade behind her back.
It was the last vague memory I had of her before I heard the gunshot sounds, which ended both hers and my father's lives in a blink of an eye.
My eyes snapped open in an instant. I placed a hand on my rapidly beating heart.
The digital clock on the bedside table showed it was already way past noon. I only have two hours before my shift in the medical building would start.
I threw myself back on the bed, waiting for the effects of the memory to vanish.
My mother was a doctor, a heart surgeon. My father worked as a prosecutor.
Those were the few traces about them I could remember.
From time to time, I would have brief flashbacks of that day, the day they were both killed.
The door to my room slowly opened, revealing a now sober Marcus. He smiled in my general direction.
"I made lunch." My stomach grumbled upon hearing the word lunch. If my memory serves me right, I have barely eaten anything since last night; thus, I was very starved.
"I'll jump in the shower in a bit and be right there." I said, which usually sends Marcus away. Oddly, there was something up with him today.
He was being a bit clingy.
"Thank you for staying with me, Shay."
"No, I should be the one thanking you." I smiled, causing Marcus to linger a little longer before finally taking his leave.
My life had been different prior to the world collapsing. My parents were seldom home, and both of them could not cook. It was always takeout, which was mostly pizza, or if not, it was a family date at a restaurant.
To say the least, it wasn't a terrible life to live.
I can't help but wonder: if they didn't die, what would it have been like?
I did what I promised Marcus I would do. I jumped in the shower right after he left. However, I instantly regretted accepting his invitation.
The chicken salad and the shrimp spring rolls laid out on the dining table with some other dishes I couldn't care less to name, lost its appeal as soon as the dining hall, which was directly adjacent to the living room, came into my full view.
"Did I forget to mention we have guests?"
"Kind of." I said, reluctantly joining him at the table with our 'guests'. I managed a weak smile towards the two females who looked like angels who have fallen from the sky.
Everything about them was screaming perfection from head to toe, and my best bet was that they were from the Lofty Haven, the only known bar here in The Mesial, which offers not only drinks but also a window to pleasure haven, hence the name.
I mentally warned myself not to be easily persuaded by Marcus next time.
It was the fifth incident that I had to pretend the food was so delicious; I had to pack them with me briefly eating my lunch in the process. I made the excuse that I had to time-in early in the medical building.
Though I had gotten used to the various women that Marcus would have over, the whole thing still grossed me out. Additionally, I don't think that it was morally right.
It never gets easier with the thought of Alice, Marcus' deceased wife. She was an exact definition of an angel, both in looks and personality.
I sighed, staring off at the elevator buttons labeled for each specific building that I needed to get to.
I can't help but wish that X would get caught soon.
Not for the killings to stop from happening, not that I wish it wouldn't, but to ask the question that had been plaguing me: After fifteen years of silence, what reason could X have to break it beginning with Alice Zephanie?
What is it X, what changed?
--
RAFAEL
"Shay Reynolds Zephanie." Ronald pinned Marcus' adopted daughter's photo on our investigation board just beside Peter Trellis', tracing an arrow.
"Marcus adopted her a month after he had hired Peter as his adviser. Her parents were killed prior to the apocalypse. The killer was never caught. The case was closed as a random robbery, with a few priced pieces of jewelry of Mrs. Reynolds missing." I had a strange tingling feeling upon hearing that Shay Zephanie's parents were murdered, but they found no criminal.
"She might be the next target."
"Yes, and if your theory is correct, we must pay Mister Zephanie a visit. We might have a forty percent chance of preventing X from killing his adopted daughter and finally catching the culprit." I felt a little offended.
"Just forty percent? You're hurting my pride partner." Ronald shrugged nonchalantly.
"The sixty percent is accurate, Rafael. X shouldn't be underestimated. While we're here, planning and listing all angles and possibilities, he might be a step ahead of us already."
Though I wanted to argue with him, I knew he had a point.
X was not an ordinary killer. He was smart and clearly motivated by his hatred.
Hatred was a powerful driving force for people such as X. It cannot be easily expelled until the very root of their boiling fury was eliminated, the very existence of the individual crushed by their own hands.
Ruthless, merciless, cold-bloodedly, heartless, the list could go on for the way X would want to kill Marcus Zephanie.
I slammed a hand on my desk, pulling myself to my feet. But before I could tell Ronald about visiting Mister Zephanie right now, the news flashing on the flat screen in front of me caught my undivided attention.
"Well, it looks like X was indeed one step ahead of us." The whole department seemed to be at a standstill while I tried to process what just happened.
My mouth was half open and my gaze glued towards the screen.
Marcus Zephanie was dead.