My first day at the Criminal Investigation Bureau began with a sartorial crisis. The suit I'd borrowed from my brother felt like a straitjacket, the tie a noose. I had dreams of looking sharp, exuding confidence, and making a great first impression. Instead, I looked like an extra in a bad mob movie. My name is Kan, and I was as green as they come, fresh out of the academy and ready to tackle the world's darkest crimes. At least, that was the plan.
The precinct buzzed with life as I stepped through the doors, a cacophony of ringing phones, clacking keyboards, and murmured conversations. My heart pounded as I walked up to the reception desk, trying to appear casual despite the sweat trickling down my back.
"Kan, right?" The receptionist, a cheerful woman with bright red hair and an even brighter smile, greeted me. "Welcome to the CIB. Detective Harper is expecting you."
I nodded, muttering a quick thanks before heading towards the detective's office. My palms were clammy, and I could feel the beginnings of a stress headache forming. It was as if all my academy training had vanished the moment I stepped inside.
Detective Harper, a grizzled veteran with a permanent scowl etched into his face, didn't bother with pleasantries. "Kan, good to see you. Hope you're ready to dive in," he grunted, shoving a thick case file into my hands. "Got a real doozy for you. We're calling it the Jigsaw Case."
"Jigsaw Case?" I echoed, flipping open the folder. My stomach lurched at the sight of the crime scene photo. The victim was posed grotesquely, surrounded by pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It was eerie and sickening, but there was something almost… playful about it. "What's the story here?"
"Body was found in an abandoned warehouse," Harper explained, leaning back in his chair. "Killer left the scene looking like a demented board game. We think they're taunting us."
Before I could respond, another officer, a lanky guy with a penchant for bad jokes, leaned over my shoulder. "Looks like the killer's got a piece of your first day, huh?" he quipped, grinning at his own wit.
I forced a chuckle, already dreading the office humor. "Yeah, just my luck."
"That's Officer Jenkins," Harper said with a sigh. "You'll get used to him."
Jenkins, oblivious to Harper's tone, clapped me on the back. "Don't worry, rookie. You'll fit right in. We're like a big, dysfunctional family here."
"Great," I muttered, closing the file and trying to focus on the task at hand. "So, where do we start?"
Harper stood, motioning for me to follow. "Let's head to the scene. I want you to get a feel for it. Jenkins, you're coming too."
The drive to the warehouse was filled with Jenkins' attempts at humor and Harper's gruff instructions. I alternated between polite laughter and fervent note-taking, trying to absorb everything.
The warehouse was a dilapidated structure on the outskirts of town, its windows shattered and walls covered in graffiti. Inside, the air was stale and heavy with the scent of decay. The crime scene was meticulously preserved, the body already removed but the puzzle pieces left untouched.
"Here we are," Harper said, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. "Take a look around. Tell me what you see."
I walked slowly through the scene, careful not to disturb anything. The puzzle pieces were scattered around in a seemingly random pattern, but something about them nagged at me. "It's like the killer wants us to solve something," I said, crouching down to examine a piece.
"That's the idea," Harper replied. "It's a game to them."
Jenkins, who had been uncharacteristically silent, suddenly spoke up. "Or maybe they just like puzzles. Everyone needs a hobby, right?"
I shot him a look, unsure if he was serious. "A hobby that involves murder?"
"Hey, I'm just saying. People are weird."
I shook my head, returning my focus to the puzzle. "There's got to be a pattern here. Something we're missing."
Harper nodded. "That's your job, Kan. Find the pattern. Figure out what the killer wants us to see."
As I continued to examine the scene, Jenkins wandered off, muttering something about finding the bathroom. Harper and I worked in silence, the gravity of the case sinking in. This wasn't just a puzzle; it was a twisted challenge from a mind that thrived on chaos and manipulation.
After what felt like hours, Jenkins returned, looking surprisingly thoughtful. "You know," he said, rubbing his chin, "if you squint, those puzzle pieces kinda look like they spell something."
Harper raised an eyebrow. "Spell something?"
"Yeah, like… letters. Or maybe I'm just seeing things."
I glanced down at the pieces, trying to see what Jenkins saw. At first, it seemed like a stretch, but then… "Wait a minute," I said slowly, picking up a piece. "He might be onto something."
Harper leaned over my shoulder. "What do you see?"
I arranged a few pieces on the ground, aligning them carefully. "It's faint, but it looks like… 'HELP ME'."
Jenkins grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "See? I told you. Sometimes, you just gotta look at things differently."
Harper stared at the pieces, his scowl deepening. "If this is the killer's idea of a joke, it's a sick one. But if it's a clue, it might be our first real lead."
We gathered the pieces, carefully bagging them as evidence. As we left the warehouse, the sun setting in the distance, I felt a strange mix of emotions. The horror of the case was undeniable, but there was something almost exhilarating about the challenge. I was beginning to see that this job was going to be a bizarre dance of dread and laughter, and I wasn't sure if I was ready.
But one thing was clear: if I could survive my first day, I could survive anything. And with colleagues like Jenkins and Harper, I was bound to find humor in the darkest of places.