"A man wields power. A coward fields force."
April 14, 3168 AFFR - Tarnozow, Yorgáryn
It was a typical day for the employees of the Ya Vezde newspaper organization. The office room was filled to the brim with reporters, staff writers and correspondents busily at work, some talking to each other, others using typewriters while other men in the printing department operated the lynetype machines. Loading newspaper reels into the printing press and removing them once the process was completed. Editors were busy correcting articles, ensuring any questionable information, whether intending or not to give the Worsata Party a bad name, were written out and replaced with something more patriotic. Being the largest source of news for those living in Tarnozow and nearby, work was often demanding and tedious for all departments involved.
Outside, Ludwik Bryston felt goosebumps run down his spine, attempting to escape the cold wind and impending rainfall. Had there not been such an intriguing story to report, he would have arrived at the six-story tall building sooner. But a story like this was rare, one worth running around the clock for. He was lucky he brought his jacket with him - he would hate to be caught up in the storm. The structure before him was constructed from reinforced concrete clad limestone, its organization's name and logo appearing atop the entrance. Anyone familiar with Yorgáryn's history could easily recognize it - the symbol of a halberd with a crown above it, in the colors of red, purple and white, the traditional colors of the old Yorgish-Wolnan Commonwealth flag.
Ludwik was a young man who worked as a reporter for Ya Vezde, spending day after day looking out for or being assigned stories to write about. Whether it involved drama going on within the city, important political events or speeches from city and/or government officials, or a murder, as long as it grabbed the reader's interest. Ludwik readjusted his rectangular-framed plastic glasses, carrying a brown leather bag containing the reports of the latest stories he had been working on. There was one in particular he was certain would get attention: the latest victim in a handful of murders he reported on previously. Now that a third victim's life was claimed, it could be officially labeled as a proper serial killer story.
Serial murders are a rarity. There are many factors that could drive a man to end another's life: greed, envy, sheer wrath, blackmail, avoiding a terrible consequence, or dare defying the great nation that was Yorgáryn. Ludwik knew the government wouldn't flinch at silencing its critics and enemies, either permanently, or shipping them off to a camp or mine. Yet serial murders consisted of a very small portion of the amount of murders committed per year. And unlike usual murder stories, there's an aspect that makes serial murders appear more disturbing, unnatural, intriguing to a degree. We're disgusted by it, and yet, we're puzzled as well.
It might be the mystery behind the killer's motivations, or the random appearance of their victims, or the barbaric way in which the victims perished. One could understand why a man would kill his wife if he discovered she had cheated on him, or why someone would kill a wealthier relative to earn their inheritance. But a killer with no clear motive or ties to a victim? Why would a human with seemingly no reason to kill do so anyway? Did they simply have a perverted desire to do so? How could someone be so lacking in empathy and ethics? No one could understand the inner workings of such a depraved mind. And that's what made it all the more frightening.
There had been no reports of a serial killer in Tarnozow in years, so when Ludwik first picked up on the story, he almost didn't believe it. Until he visited the scenes of the crimes reported and interviewed the law enforcement officials investigating. The most recent victim was a man by the name of Vinko Braslov, a middle-aged, gray-balding haired working-class man who worked at a factory in East Tarnozow. His body was found dead in his own apartment in the morning earlier today. The man's bulging red eyes excreted a yellowish pus-like substance, while blood leaked out his mouth. Upon closer inspection, the authorities discovered that Vinko was missing a molar tooth, forcibly pulled, evidenced by the fresh wound left in his mouth. Ludwik did not know if this murder was connected to the last two until he heard about the tooth. At all three crime scenes, each victim was found with a missing tooth torn out, whether molar or canine. It could not be a coincidence; this was the killer's little calling card.
It was hard for Ludwik to go into full detail with the story given that there were no connecting threads to the victims, aside from the fact they were all loners who lacked a vibrant social life. Though this was not a major block. He was skilled at adding suspense to his reports, ensuring to include enough information about the crime while writing in a way that did not bore the reader with trivia. And the recent attention he's gotten from his last two murder story articles were more than enough proof of that. One of them made it to the third column in the newspaper around a month ago. It had already been over a year since he began working at Ya Vezde, and it seemed as if he was already making a small name for himself. In this timespan, Ludwik learned capturing the eye of the reader was key to his success, something that had gotten him varying degrees of success in his career so far.
As he entered the building, he made his way towards the newspaper office room and saw various desks with thick stacks of papers piled on top of them. In the midst of it were other employees, likely staff writers and other reporters, working back and forth to meet their tight deadlines. Ludwik was approaching his own desk when he noticed a colleague of his was approaching him from behind.
"Busy day, Lud?", Zofia asked, her voice high and sharp. Ludwik knew she was a reporter like him, the two having worked together on a few stories in the past. She was a professional looking young woman around the same age Ludwik was, likely a year younger, with dirty blonde hair neatly tied back into a ponytail, along with a navy blue suit and a lengthy dark orange skirt. A slight contrast to Ludwik's more casual yet professional attire of khaki pants and buttoned-down hunter green shirt. She too, had glasses, though hers were made of stainless steel and were round. If you looked closely, you would notice she had slightly freckled cheeks. She was also carrying a large bag, likely filled with papers and story reports she was working on.
"Suppose you could say. I had no idea another body would have been found this early. It's barely been a month since the last one," he told her.
"Oh, you're working on your serial killer story again?", she asked in a tone that sounded a bit too positive for the topic at hand. Though Ludwik had gotten used to it after working with her long enough; he was well aware she was passionate about her work.
"Yes. A third body was found on the east side of town, just earlier today. I was called in to report what happened, but I had no idea I would stumble across another victim," Ludwik explained.
"It's a good thing you found that out quickly. Better make sure Egon gets a hold of your story before someone else tries to take credit for it," Zofia advised. "Oh, that reminds me, have you given a nickname for the killer yet?"
Ludwik looked at her puzzled. "No. Why?"
"I'm just saying, a nickname synonymous with the crimes would catch the reader's attention a lot better. Sure, 'serial killer' may work at first, but sooner or later, someone's going to give this guy a name."
"Couldn't really think of an intimidating name to give him. I thought about choosing one related to his calling card, you know, the missing teeth, but the 'tooth fairy' doesn't exactly sound frightening. I'm sure the paper will figure something out." He briefly paused. "I take it you have been busy as well?"
Zofia shrugged. "More or less. I've been looking around, and I found some pretty decent stories. I think Mr. Sobieski would consider putting these in the Everyday Traitors column."
"Everyday Traitors? Who did you find out about?" Ludwik was familiar with Ya Vezde's special column. As the name suggested, it was a section in the paper that exposed the identities and locations of political enemies of the Worsata Party, as well as potential members of the Underground resistance movement. Though it was mainly a column dedicated to detailing infractions against the law, whether major or small. Everyday Traitors was personally overseen by their editor-in-chief, Lukasz Sobieski, who was all too happy to call for the deaths of former republic officials.
"I dug a bit deep and discovered this local bar owner who was hiding some banned literature. You know, Berkuvist works. But I also found a far more interesting story. Recently, there's been rumors flying around the city square that a former member of the UDF was hiding out in Tarnozow. So naturally, I began doing research for a couple of weeks. I managed to convince some of the local police to help me out with the case, and before long, we finally found the guy," Zofia explained.
"Who did you find?"
"Apparently, he was the former head of the department of foreign affairs during the Fourth Republic, Gerhard Ignasiak. He was thought to have either fled to Bretvakim or Gabosloza years ago. I didn't even think some of those guys were still left. You'd figure after a decade they'd all be gone, but here we are," Zofia told him, before grinning. "I figure Sobieski is going to love this."
"Agreed. I haven't met anyone who despised the old republic more than him," Ludwik dryly joked, causing Zofia to chuckle. That man truly despises the United Democratic Front. I've done interviews with city officials, and their opinions of them seemed tame compared to Sobieski. I'm also a little impressed and concerned about how quickly Zofia was able to find this man.
"It's funny 'cause it's true. I haven't, either." The two experienced a moment of awkward silence before Zofia decided to break the tension. "Anyways… have you heard about that special interview he mentioned?"
"Briefly. I don't know much about it, however." Ludwik overheard some things from other colleagues about an upcoming interview Ya Vezde was having with an important foreign official, but he did not know much more beyond that. I really need to talk with others some more.
"Basically, the 40th anniversary of Hiyara's diplomatic relations with Yorgáryn is coming up in two weeks, and to honor the event, Sobieski mentioned that there will be some members of the imperial royal family coming to stay at the Hiyaran Embassy! And obviously, Ya Vezde is going to try and get an interview with them. Sobieski has yet to choose a reporter for the case, but I certainly hope it'll be me!", she explained enthusiastically.
"Oh. That's all?", Ludwik blurted out without thinking.
Zofia seemed to almost get offended by that. "What do you mean 'That's all'?! This is a rare opportunity for our people to learn more about our allies! I'm sure the average Yorgish citizen at least has an idea of what Hiyara is like, but they're on the other side of the world. It's hard to find documents about their culture here. We have the chance to inform our people about something so few of us actually understand. Don't you at least think we should appreciate them for what they've done for our country?"
"When you put it that way… I suppose it does." I know Hiyara is one of our country's greatest allies, but there's not that much I know about them. I'm aware they were involved in a handful of wars against Nosharm and Sunchitaln and they're a major military power in the Far East, but that's mostly it. Still, I can't help but admire how much passion Zofia puts into her work.
Ludwik and Zofia continued to talk about each other's work until she asked him a question.
"Hey, do you have any plans for the week, Lud?"
"Not really. Aside from some reading or watching television, I don't have much planned." Ludwik found it strange Zofia asked him that. He was aware that Zofia herself tended to be a bit of a workaholic.
"Uh-huh. Sure." Zofia was not buying it. She inched closer to him. "You really have nothing better to do besides work and books?"
"Why are you so keen to know?" Ludwik began getting defensive.
"I can't help it. If something's off about someone, I just can't leave it be. You've worked long enough with me to know that," she said with a smug grin.
"Let's say I did have free time. What then? What would you want from me?"
"You could go to Sokolowski's (that's a bar place) with me Friday or Saturday night. Really hits the spot after a long week's work," she suggested.
Ludwik sighed. "I suppose that couldn't hurt. I'm in need of a break, anyway. But you don't need to press me about my personal life."
"I wasn't pressing you, I was just curious! I barely see you outside of work. And I think our other colleagues do, too," Zofia defended.
"You have no right to talk about my life outside of work when your work-life balance is a mess."
"That's different! I at least try to make an effort to get to know more about my co-workers. I don't see you trying to do the same! I'm always the one who has to approach you first-"
"Zofia, what the hell are you doing now?" The two reporters were rudely interrupted by one of the staff writers, Petr. Petr was well older than either Ludwik or Zofia, though not exactly middle aged just yet, around his late thirties. He worked on covering news stories, but usually remained in the Ya Vezde newspaper building instead of traveling across the city. He had an oval face, along with brushed back brunette hair, a chevron mustache, and a light gray slim fit suit.
"That's none of your concern, Petr. Why are you butting in our conversation?", Zofia said, rather annoyed with him.
"You're complaining about me butting in? How about you stop prying into other people's business first, then you can talk," Petr replied.
"That is not what's going on here!"
"I doubt it. Why don't you go back to writing whatever stories you've got? I'm not gonna waste my whole break arguing with you."
"Oh fuck off, Petr!" No longer content with putting up with him, Zofia leaves, muttering something under her breath.
"Yeah, good luck finding a man with that attitude, you nosy bitch," Petr called out, before turning to Ludwik. "Yo Lud, she wasn't giving you any trouble, was she?"
Ludwik couldn't help but feel a little repulsed at the way Petr treated her. "Not really." Why didn't I say anything? "You didn't have to say that to her."
"I was just telling the truth! She can't hold down a man to save her life! It's not my fault she gets into everybody's personal life without asking. Frankly, I'm surprised you get along with her better than a lot of us do," Petr told him.
I suppose that last part is true. Zofia doesn't exactly have the best reputation among her co-workers. Her snoopy behavior doesn't really help her in that regard.
"I suppose I got used to her, that's all."
"Well, I certainly don't know how you managed to do it."
"I can clearly see you two have some bad history." Ludwik had heard Zofia mention Petr before, and she didn't have many good things to say about him. How he patronized her, didn't take her seriously for being a woman, among other things.
"That's a fucking understatement. You know what she did to me? After we fought over some paper and I insisted she do something else, she dug up some shit about my ex-girl and my new girl from Tinet! I don't even know how she found out about her! That bitch is crazy, I tell you," Petr ranted.
I'm not really surprised she managed to do that. If her track record is anything to go by, she's very persistent. Plus, Petr's always been kind of a dick to her, but there's no reason to say that out loud.
"I wouldn't try going for her, if I was you, Lud. You've got more than enough qualities to pull some broads, far better than her, that's for sure. All you need is some confidence to put yourself out there and you're good to go!"
"I never said I was interested in her in that way, Petr." Maybe he has a point about the confidence thing, but that's besides the point. "Would you care to explain why you decided to talk with me?"
"Hey man, you're a good listener. No bullshit, no arguing, you're a nice fellow to talk to. And cause not many other people here are interested in hearing me rant about football." Petr made sure Ludwik was listening before continuing. "You see, I've been writing about the latest football game, and how Tarnozow United is off to a shoddy start. We lost to FC Kotozovsk from Bretvakim this weekend, and I wrote a lengthy article for it. I was pretty pissed, so I hope my editor doesn't call me in to change it up."
"I'm sure you'll be fine if you proofread it some more." Ludwik was slowly getting tired of the conversation, and tried to find a way out of it. "I'd like to talk more, but I really must get going. I have a big story to give to Egon, a follow up to the serial killer."
"Oh shit, another one? Well don't let me keep you waiting! Best of luck to you, man!" With that out of the way, Ludwik left Petr and headed for the desk of his editor, Egon. Ludwik always liked Egon, far more than Petr, and more so than Sobieski. He was everything Ludwik liked in a superior: punctual, professional, and straight to the point.
He approached Egon's desk, piles of papers stacked on top of it, as well as a cigarette tray with burnt-out cigarette butts. Egon reclined back in his chair, drinking from a coffee mug while reading a newspaper from yesterday's news. He takes his eyes off of it and looks up at Ludwik.
"Good day, Mr. Bryston. I trust you have finished the murder column?", he asked.
"Of course, sir. In fact, I've discovered another victim of that serial killer I wrote about a month ago," Ludwik told him, reaching for his bag and taking out his written story report, placing it on Egon's desk. "Here it is."
Egon took a hold of the report and read it slowly. There wasn't much indication of what he thought of it; his facial expressions remained mostly in a stern yet attentive manner. In the middle of reading it, a slight smile formed on the editor's face, saying something out loud that Ludwik could not understand. So far he seems to be liking it.
"Another good story, Bryston, as to be expected of you," Egon said, easing Ludwik's nervousness. The editor then raised his index finger. "Though I would have included something else in the column, if I were you."
The reporter was not following. "What exactly do you mean, sir?"
Egon relaxed back into his desk chair. "You've done a great job emphasizing the danger of such a madman and the details of the body, no debate there. What I am suggesting, however, is to try to make it a cry for action. Include something along the lines of the killer not being able to evade punishment forever. To give the impression our police officers are working tirelessly to bring them to justice. I'll have to edit things here and there, but it's all good."
Of course he would suggest that. It wouldn't be Ya Vezde if they didn't find some way to suck up to the Worsata Party. "Understood. I will do so next time," Ludwik replied. Not like I really want to, but it is better to not draw suspicion. "Do you have any other columns for me to work on?"
"Not at the moment. Though I have been sent a request from Sobieski that he wishes you to come by his office later once you arrived back. He came to me this morning to ask where you were, but I had told him you were not here."
"Mr. Sobieski requested… me?" Ludwik's nervousness began to rise once more. I didn't do anything wrong, did I? I was being as careful as possible, I was sure of it!
"He did not sound angry when he spoke to me. Besides, I doubt he would have you fired. Aside from your slower work pace, you're a good reporter. Who knows? I wouldn't worry much, Bryston. Just get to his office soon before he gets grumpy," Egon suggested to him.