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"On August 17th of this year, we found the body of Professor Doctor Simon in the Tiber River. The body was caught at the Ponte Fabricio bridge, where locals found and reported it to the police. Colleagues [/////] and [/////] retrieved the body and brought it back to the station. That's where I first saw it...
Professor Doctor Simon's face was frozen in a desperate scream. His mouth was wide open and filled with river grass and mud. His whole body was stiff to the touch, as if frozen. There were no other visible wounds.
I ask that superiors present this peculiar case to the public as a suicide until we find the culprit. We've had enough ridicule of the police force in the newspapers, and suicide sounds convincing enough, considering the man was peculiar anyway.
The interview records we had with Professor Simon's acquaintances and other suspects have disappeared from the station. I kept them locked in my drawer. There were no signs of forced entry into the drawer, and no one besides me knew where I kept those papers. We tried to contact the interviewed individuals, but they have completely vanished. Since no one knows where they went, they are officially listed as missing.
This whole case gives me chills, and with this report, I am also submitting my resignation. I ask for your understanding. Best regards,
Edoard Strovans"
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Chief of police Luigi Berti held the report in disbelief. "This is the sixth officer to resign because of this case! Unbelievable! What do they think? That being in the police is a walk in the park! That their duty to the state only matters when it suits them! It's better they're gone," Berti thought, "such individuals are a real sickness to the police force!"
However, all these resignations left a strong impression on the chief of police. Rome is a big city and the police must deal with serial killers, butchers, and other scum on a weekly basis, yet such a trivial case has caused half of a unit to resign? Deep in Luigi's heart, one of the oldest human emotions awakened: curiosity. Another thing was also not right within the text itself. The names of the two policemen who carried Simon's body were scribbled over beyond recognition. Edoard also mentioned that someone stole documents from his drawer. Does the police force have a mole? A rat in his ranks! He won't allow such things under his watch!
The next day, Berti got out of bed feeling quite hungover. After all the fuss with the report, he wanted to unwind with a few glasses of wine, but it seems he got carried away. He leaned over the sink and looked himself in the eye through the mirror of expensive appearance. He enjoyed the comfortable life of a police chief. He had to kiss a lot of boots to climb to this position, but it was worth it. He lived in his office within the central police building on Via di Vitale street. Office? More like a royal-sized apartment. Four large rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, a work office, and a smoking room sprawled across half a floor of this luxurious building. He wouldn't mind spending the rest of his working days until retirement here.
Police Chief Luigi Berti sat down at his mahogany desk. Today was another exhausting day of signing documents. He hated signing documents, mostly because he had to read each one carefully. More than once, he had been slipped documents that he carelessly signed, only to later have to explain to the Council why he had approved something. Among the stack of papers brought to him by his maid, he noticed a familiar one. It was the report on the 'Rusuf' case. Luigi set it aside, ignoring it.
"'I'm too old for these things. Let someone younger deal with this madness!'" Berti muttered aloud to himself, glaring sharply at his signature on a permit document. He picked up the next document and began to read it. Halfway through, he started nervously spinning in his chair. His eyes darted over the letters, not really paying attention to them. After two minutes of this, he gave up in frustration, pushing the papers off the desk in anger. He couldn't focus on his work; the report was bothering him. As much as he was curious about it, he also wanted nothing to do with it, and this internal struggle was killing him.
He got up from the table and started picking up the scattered documents from the floor. He must know, and he must know NOW!
Berti neatly arranged the papers on the table and turned towards the wardrobe. From there, he pulled out his ceremonial uniform hanging on the rack. He scrutinized it critically for a few seconds. The ceremonial uniform was impressive, with golden silk embroidery and a silver emblem. He usually wore it whenever he left the house, but now he returned it to the closet. Perhaps it's better not to stand out too much. Instead, he dressed in civilian clothes, threw on a coat, and walked out into the spacious hallway where the maid hurried to open the door for him.
"'Cancel all my appointments for today, don't expect me back until tomorrow,' he said. The maid glanced at him sideways. Luigi knew what she was thinking; it was public knowledge that he indulged in Rome's lowest vices. Maybe it's better if everyone thinks he's going to a brothel. No one would look for him there.
The police chief headed towards the station on Marcelo Street. There, the body of Professor Doctor Simon had been taken. He wanted to ask a few questions about the scribbled-over names in the report.
When Luigi stormed into the police station like a fury, night was already beginning to fall. At the entrance, he was greeted by an off-duty policeman. At first, the officer didn't recognize him and started to say something sharp, but quickly recognized Luigi's luxurious mustache and his 'distinctive' build.
"Are you here because of Edoardo, I presume? I hear there's been quite a commotion about it," said the idle constable.
"Yes, his resignation... It wasn't regular. Where is he now?"
"After he submitted the report, he went to pack his things. I haven't seen him come back. His office is on the first floor," said the unknown policeman, pointing his thumb towards the stairs behind him. The police chief nodded. As he walked away, the unknown policeman kept his eyes on him. Luigi shivered. "They really let anyone into service these days," he thought.
At the top of the stairs, he was greeted by a long hallway with doors on both sides. On another door to the left, the letters 'Strovans' were barely discernible. The nameplate was old and worn, with peeling paint. Luigi loudly knocked on the door with his fist and crossed his arms behind his back.
At the entrance, the unknown policeman jumped at the sound of the chief's knocking. He chuckled and went to the locker room. Standing in front of one of the lockers, he inserted the key into the lock and opened it swiftly. He should hurry, there isn't much time.
Luigi stood in front of the door for another minute before knocking again, this time even louder: 'Hello!? STROVANS!? This is the CHIEF OF POLICE, STROVANS. Open the door! I know you're in there!'
Again, there was no response. "Who does he think he is? Hiding from his (former) boss? Such disrespect is unprecedented, UNPRECEDENTED," the police chief thought angrily. Finally, he had enough and kicked the handle with his foot. The old wooden door made a loud bang as it swung open inward. Luigi was greeted by a completely empty room. The shaky table in the center of the room was full of scratches, scratches like those made by animal claws. Berti cautiously ran his fingers over them. He swallowed hard. He wanted to leave, but decided to check the rest of the room anyway. He approached the large wardrobe in the right corner and opened its double doors with both hands. A BODY! Two bodies fell to the police chief's feet. "AAAAaaHHH!!!" Luigi screamed, frozen in fear. With disgust, he turned one body over with one foot. Luigi recognized Edoard's appearance only from a brief description from his secretary, but he never doubted that it was not he. His stomach, mustache, hooked southern nose, and sunken, wrinkled forehead revealed Edoard Strovans. And the other body? He did not immediately recognize it, so he crouched beside the dead man's head. The body was completely naked. Luigi was sure he had never seen this man before... No, he saw him! Awareness hit him like a train. The dead body under his feet was the police officer who greeted him at the station entrance! There is no more doubt in it. But... Who was the man who greeted him, then? He took a look at the scratched table. Man? Or something else?
From his panicked thoughts, he was jolted by a loud noise from the floor below. Something was coming. Berti didn't want to find out what. He glanced out the window. Despite it being only the second floor, Luigi knew he was a man of sturdy build. He doubted he would survive the fall. He returned to the door and closed it as quietly as he could.
The stairs began to creak under someone's weight. Chief of Police Luigi Berti had to come up with something, and fast. He gathered all his remaining courage and masculinity. If he was going to die, he would face his fate with his chin up. Mentally resigning himself, Luigi sat behind the old, scratched table and stared sharply at the door. Whatever awaited him, he was ready. The latch on the door clicked down and the door creaked open. Berti tensed, gripping the armrest of the chair he sat in. He leaned towards the door, trying to see through the small crack between the door and the wall, but it was too dark. Nonetheless, he felt the emptiness from that direction, as if no one was there.
"GOOD EVENING," came from behind Luigi's hunched figure.
"AAAAAAA," Luigi screamed, falling from the chair to the floor. He looked behind him, but it was too dark to recognize the silhouette towering over his sweaty body. His mustache trembled nervously, moving up and down with his rapid, panicked breaths. He felt a sharp stab in his back, as the green-black mass pierced through his heart. In his last moments of life, Luigi managed to discern something on the silhouette. Two white bands around head height seemed to begin to shine, and in the final moments of his life, Luigi realized who had killed him, and understood that Ater was not a legend, because legends usually don't stand before him.
Ater glanced at the bodies before him. He knew he would have to clean up... Too much hassle. He brushed the dust off his coat and crouched down. From his inner pocket, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his shoes, first the white one and then the black one. Due to his... limitations, he couldn't be sure if he had cleaned everything properly. He hoped he had. For what was to come, he had to look his best. He stepped over the dead body of Luigi Berti and started to stride out of the room. He stopped in his tracks, almost forgetting something. He reached out towards the wooden table and focused. 'IGNIS,' he muttered under his breath. The table exploded into a ball of fire that engulfed the entire room. As the fire spread through the police station and surrounding houses, Arbor had long since departed.
The night had already settled heavily over the streets of Rome when Ater leaned against an old building. He sighed deeply. The world on this side of the ocean was terribly different from life on the Continent. He didn't like it. He glanced towards the industrial block in the east. Smoke darker than the surrounding night rose above rows of factories only to fall back like a black fog over the city. The moment he gets the Diary back, he would go home. He punched the wall he was leaning against. "Useless!" He was certain that cop would have it. All the other documents were on him. Now he regretted killing the chief of police... He could have used him as a hostage for exchange or tortured him until he revealed what interested him. It's not like he could do anything about it now; this was a lesson for next time...
Next time... When will this slaughter festival finally end? Why is everyone here so reluctant to cooperate? I just want my Diary back, these deaths are unnecessary. He didn't regret it, he just worried that the more people he killed, the longer he would have to stay in this devilish city.
He pulled out a green wad from his pocket. It looked like a tuft of green grass. With one hand, he gently lifted the bandage above his lips while using the other to push the wad into his mouth and started chewing. His favorite sweet. The taste reminded him of home. This was his last one.
As he enjoyed the strange delicacy, he glanced down the dimly lit street. In the distance, a much brighter street began, illuminated from all sides by red lanterns. Unlike the street where Ater stood, which was nearly empty, the red lantern street was packed with people just beginning their night. Ater pondered. He knew too little, and it bothered him. He was used to knowing more than anyone else, and this amount of unknown irritated him. But at the same time, it aroused his curiosity. Beneath his bandage, he allowed himself a twisted smile. He had a good feeling.