《Records》 To you, to a day ago It rung for three times, vibrated endlessly until the phone dropped itself off the edge of the table. Then the sudden thud brought me to reality. Silently looking over the mountain of paper documents, it became evident that I overworked the night prior. Though, the regular phone alarm left me with an irritation beyond belief. The phone shouldn¡¯t be too far from here, and I searched it with just my eyes. ¡®March 23rd, 6:31am¡¯, the phone displayed the time on the touch screen before I soon turned off the alarm. The light seeped through the curtains with just enough to light up the room. I got up from the editor¡¯s room, though its damp air left me still tired. Left with just the glow of a phone¡¯s monitor, I unfolded and switched on my laptop. The progress of a manuscript I have read the night prior had no longer existed, and I sighed. I am an author, and so was my dream occupation. Yet, despite that I was left with an indelible boredom that was unquenched. There was just¡­ nothing I could think of writing about. Therefore, a writer¡¯s block led to be the thing that I could not achieve for. All I lacked was an adventure of the mind, the wandering of a heart; something exciting was missing. Breakfast wasn¡¯t over complicated. In fact, I left it with just toast and coffee. I did what I did, the same as always of what I would do. I took another bite and sip. Once done, I checked at a nearby mirror. I wore the same navy shirt with jeans, left it that way. The phone just now showed ¡®Tuesday, 7:00am¡¯. Then back at the laptop, I started my sentence. ¡®Once upon a certain winter night, a girl¡­¡¯ Already left with a block of ideas, my fingers stopped and I stare at the screen. My brain flushed empty and I left the desk. I shuffled the laptop into my bag and backed myself up to leave. As the door closed, the sign on the door moved slightly. Then back towards home I go. 7:10am. As morning rose, stores prepared to open and the sound of traffic filled the roads. The weather was clear as usual, no signs of clouds, though. Though the apartment was just 10 minutes away, I ended up taking a stroll around the streets of my everyday city. Led by a morning breeze, it became a cold morning as usual, and should be. Occasionally that breeze tickles through my loose shirt, and I helplessly was bothered by it. I sighed, held a thought that, time had passed too quickly. From an office in the city, wandering around the streets, then to a garden caf¨¦ down the alley. I pushed the door lightly through and, as I enter, and the bells jingled, followed by a welcome. ¡°You¡¯re here a bit early than usual, aren¡¯t you?¡± a man around his sixties had greeted me; he was the owner of this store, ¡°What do you want this time?¡± ¡°The usual, thanks.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be right on it.¡± The shop remained almost untouched, though I frequent here. The presence of other customers was lacking, though it always was like this, and should be. Within minutes, he came back, with a cup filled of an espresso. I sipped it, and I looked around. ¡°How¡¯s things lately?¡± He would always ask me the same questions. ¡°Nothing much, surely you¡¯d have a better story than I have?¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s been quiet around this area, nothing much around here. But-¡° ¡®-I¡¯m glad you¡¯re around,¡¯ he whispered in an inaudible voice that I could barely hear. The damp sunlight that seeped through the stained glass, gave the green beyond a glow of warmth. This feeling still remained to linger in me, unexplained yet felt peaceful. And I take another sip of the drink. ¡°Sorry, it seems that I gotta go now. See you!¡± He smiled, and left behind the counter, so I, too, left. 7:25am. I heard a scream, so stopped. But there was still silence, surrounded by the lack of people who would have heard it besides me. I do not want to be associated so I leave and I see, that I am already lost within the alleyways. It beat faster, and my forehead covered itself in sweat. Slowly, I took a gradual turn towards there, towards the dark alley and the mysteries behind it. I took each step with care, and I placed my phone back into my pocket. Around the corner, I see a businessman around his thirties in his suit and the other was a hooded man dressed in nothing but black. The hooded man, as I witnessed, was pointing a pistol at the other man. The upcoming events seemed evident, and my legs remained stationary. In front of this site, what am I supposed to do? Countless scenarios rushed into my head, and I noticed that my feet and mouth¡­ moved by itself. ¡°No! Stop! Don¡¯t kill-¡° Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. It just ended with a bang, with I, who witnessed a murder, dropped to my knees. The bullet reached the chest, and red tainted his shirt from the chest. I can¡¯t say anything for that moment. ¡°What the hell!¡± I shouted, without thinking. The culprit noticed soon, dropped his weapon and ran away. I ran towards the victim who was now already on the ground. I checked all over his body, and he remained unable to respond. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me¡­¡± My hands reached out, unbuttoned his scarlet shirt, that revealed his almost featureless chest. But the hole punched through the centre, bursts out with dye. My palms lightly covered the wound and gently pressed it. No beat. He passed away. And the echoes of the gunshot reached somewhere, to someone¡¯s ears. I quickly grabbed a phone out of my pocket. ¡®Police¡¯ would be right choice of contact this time. As I turned to see my surroundings, I stopped; someone else had already made a call to the police before her; a witness who had came here by the sound and now saw Delia right next to the corpse, hands stained with blood and a gun laid right next to her. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not me.¡± I glanced to the murder weapon. Besides her was another man, around her age, who saw me do so. His voice hesitated, rushed towards me almost instantly. He knocked me back, left a thud against the wall for me, and he followed with a grip that locked me still and restrained. My arms could no longer shake it off. ¡°Call the police!¡± The man yelled, directed to her, ¡°Quickly!¡± The woman hesitated; her hands pulled out the phone closer to her ears. The trembling of his arms became evident, and I understood their misunderstanding. I, who was here at the scene, became already accused of a crime I have not done. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­¡± My voice wavered, could not persuade them. There was no reason behind the stopping them; the voices of a ¡®murderer¡¯ shall not be reached to. I sighed. They no longer listened to my words, so I became a culprit, despite having never murdered before. The circumstances of these events that occurred just shifted a little too much against me. 7:30am. Then, I do not know. We stopped, and it reset, and started again. 6:31am. And it rung three times. The sudden thud from my phone brought me back to a reality that awoke me. The surroundings proved to be Eric¡¯s office, so I probably overworked again. That mattered nothing though, if I did not end up with any real motivation nor progress. As so, I checked my laptop once again. Somehow, words were present on the document from last night.
¡®On March 23rd 7:27am, a murder occurs.¡¯
¡°What?¡± On a document which I had expected to contain no words, were those words that were not expected, nor would have typed. I slowly picked up the phone I held not long ago, and started to call. On the desk before me, the sign read words of ¡®Editor - Eric E. Smith¡¯. ¡°Ugh, Delia?¡± His voice breaths though the speaker, but already with the annoyance with the timing. I glanced at the phone briefly. ¡°Eric, you haven¡¯t touched my document last night, did you?¡± He sighed, ¡°I told you, come back with more progress then I would probably bother viewing your work, otherwise I would usually focus with the other works.¡± Then the statement ends with a lasting beep marked the end of a digital conversation. It left with a lingering confusion, but if anything, this place was unsuited. I shuffled the laptop into my bag and backed myself up to leave. As the door closed, the sign on the door moved slightly. Then back towards home I go. 7:10am. My stomach growled not long after I departed from the office, I sighed, then took another detour that led me towards that caf¨¦. Down the alley was a caf¨¦ enveloped by its own nature; a small green amongst the alley. I pushed the door lightly though and, as I enter I sighed, held a thought that, time had passed too quickly. From an office in the city, wandering around the streets, then to a garden caf¨¦ down the alley. I pushed the door lightly through, as I enter, and the bells jingled, followed by a welcome. ¡°You¡¯re here a bit early than usual, aren¡¯t you?¡± A man around his sixties had greeted me, ¡°What do you want this time?¡± ¡°The usual and maybe a pancake on top of that.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be right on it.¡± As I waited, I searched around the room. The natural light seeped through here, evoked a sense in me. Near the counter, was a picture of the two of them, Aiden and him; son and father. As I looked back down, the words begun to etch itself on the desk.
¡®The murderer is ____.¡¯
¡°How¡¯s things lately?¡± He surprised me with the usual questions as he served the espresso cup in front of me. I took a sip, but he knew nothing wrong with the desk. ¡°Come to speak of it, have you been receiving strange messages recently?¡± ¡°Might I ask what happened?¡± ¡°Well, just this morning I¡¯ve read some weird things. I thought it was a prank at first, but these messages have been appearing quite often.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. You better be careful nowadays to not get into trouble. I picked up the fork and stabbed it into the pancake, chewed on a bite. ¡°Anyways, at least you¡¯re safe,¡± he jokingly continued, ¡°It¡¯s been quiet around this area so you¡¯re like the only customer.¡± The damp sunlight seeped through the yellow, though shadowed his face. I took the final sip of the drink. ¡°That being said, it seems that I got to go now. See you!¡± He smiled as I packed up to depart, so he, too, left. 7:25am. I heard a scream, so I stopped and I see that I was already lost within the alleyways. But I could only stand and see, as words weaved themselves onto the wall, like graffiti blended into concrete walls. They were words broken incomprehensible of their context, yet I could only take more steps words them.
¡®A man in full black clothing¡­¡¯
¡®¡­will be framed for murder at 7:34am¡¯
¡®Man screams out in fright¡­¡¯
¡®...will be murdered.¡¯
¡®killed via pistol.¡¯
¡®runs away, dropping the¡­¡¯
¡­save him, but too late.¡¯
¡®I wanted to¡­ prevent this.¡¯
They were incomplete, but they point towards a place. As I took more steps into the alley, I could hear a faint argument. I released a breath that I never knew I held. Disturbed by the atmosphere by a feeling called dread, I could only approach closer. Despite knowing that I would inevitably encounter a murder in moments soon, I had a desire to be there. The odd sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu pulled me towards them. Around the corner, the small argument started to get slightly louder, the one of the two started to raise his voice and pulled out the weapon. The other hesitated and I knew it would happen any instant soon. ¡°What the fuck!¡± My legs moved on its own, and I helplessly ran and attempted to restrain him. I held my grip on to his wrist, pointing it away until he dropped the weapon. He shifted, and the hood fell off. I saw his face. *** And now for the punchline for this chapter, the culprit was caf¨¦ owner. 3:43pm. As I scroll through the newsfeed of the mobile social media, I was reminded of this incident. It had seemed that two months flew past and his sentence was determined and since then, the garden caf¨¦ no longer existed. ¡®This just in: Caf¨¦ owner, Mike Williams, have been imprisoned for up to ten years over the attempted murder of Daniel Dantes, CEO of Dantes Pty. Ltd.-¡¯ My fingers stopped scrolling through the article, and my eyes found itself locked on to the names that triggered a faint familiarity. ¡®Daniel Dantes¡­¡¯ Then I recalled when everything went wrong. And it reset, and started again from five years ago. A look back Speaking of it, don¡¯t some hero work as journalists? I mean, Spiderman and Superman worked for those roles. That said, Here I am, on a seat reading my resume to apply for this position. Not for that reason, but simply because it felt convenient. ¡°So, you nervous?¡± I turned from the resume and noticed him. Down the hallway, there were several of us waiting just outside the room, just for this position. He, too, seemed to be aiming to do so. He seemed to be in his mid twenties, but carried a youthful anticipation. Uncertain of what to speak, I turned to the wall opposite me and they carved words out for me.
¡®You might not want to know this person.¡¯
These were words that only I could see since long ago, though I never knew why except what it meant. But the advice before me remained useless and I sighed. ¡°Obviously, I heard that the CEO would interview us turn by turn. How about you¡­ err¡­¡± ¡°Name¡¯s Andrew,¡± He pointed to the name tag near the breast pocket, then reached out his hand and continued, ¡°Nice to meet you, Delia.¡± I, in turn, shook his hand. He leaned in, hand covering mouth and whispered, ¡°Come to speak of it, I think Mr Dantes has enough power to buy himself out of the law.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard of his four horsemen? The past employees have talked about them at one point. Truth, Law and Media¡­ he¡¯s got enough influential people to buy them to his side.¡± ¡°Uh... you¡¯re joking aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Up for you to believe,¡± he replied as he pointed me back to the entrance of the door, ¡°seems like it¡¯s your turn now. Good luck!¡± I saw a man walk by the just opened door. I dawdled past him and into the room. In there, there was another man before the desk; Daniel Dantes, the company employed owner of Dantes Corporation. As I sat on my respective seats, it was somewhat clear to me that I was applying for a position of one of the largest companies controlling media. ¡°Delia, is it?¡± He says as he flicks through the resume pages, ¡°Let¡¯s start off simple; why would you want this position in the company?¡± ¡°I think, it¡¯d be in my best interests to pursue-¡° ¡°Actually, let me rephrase that; why would we want to employ you?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± My mouth was left void of answers, though I stumbled to carry myself through. ¡°I believe hiring me would be within your best interests, being that I have acquired a degree in media and communications and believe to have enough working experience to take on the role. That being said¡­¡± He looked up from the resume. ¡°¡­I have heard some rumours about you prior to coming to this interview regarding about your ability to abuse the law. Should that be the case, then I am afraid I am ineligible for this role.¡± ¡°Heh¡­You¡¯re quite interesting aren¡¯t you? Being the first to decline a role that you are applying for¡± He smirked, ¡°That being said, you forgot to consider some factors too, Delia.¡± ¡°huh?¡± ¡°One thing,¡± Daniel stated, ¡°you¡¯ve heard the four horseman BS from a guy called ¡®Andrew¡¯, right?¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± ¡°Amongst that group, you¡¯d call him the con-man. You hardly considered much of his statement and its reliability; that was your mistake. Though, you¡¯ve piqued my interest, so you¡¯re hired.¡± Mixed in a blend of relief and doubt, I could only remain sitting. ¡°You¡¯ve received you training from university?¡± He asked, ¡°If that¡¯s so, then I¡¯ll expect to see from starting next week.¡± *** ¡°I¡¯m Aiden Williams, from now on, I would be your director for a while, so that means any decisions on articles would be managed by me and you will follow through that. Understood?¡± First day of the job, I was going to be assigned to a group, and the man before me was my leader. The leader was Aiden Williams, a media director, or according to Andrew, the man with the position to monitor what goes on the media from news to leakagesUnauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. In his office, I sat opposite him and briefly informed about the job. Aiden Williams remained there for a short while, then turned around to grab a sheet from a pile. ¡°This is the case that the group is currently working upon. You, too, will have to submit an article of your findings by the following week before starting the article. Understood?¡± I picked up the sheet handed to me, ¡®Serial assaults in the neighbourhood¡¯. I peeked to the other sheets among the pile he took from, and realised mine was slightly different. ¡°I¡¯ve got a friend working in the police department, here¡¯s her card¡± Aiden passed me a business card, though it seemed almost fake, ¡°She¡¯ll probably help you on this case. Understood?¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± ¡°With all that being said, I¡¯ll just introduce you to him as well.¡± He stood up, led me to a drive to a nearby police station. As I was about to sit, I saw on his seat laid a small book, ¡®The Winter of Three Lies¡±. The pages were somewhat coarse, and carried several notations on them. On the side, was a name I have been long familiar since childhood. He came in, entered the car too straight after checking the bunker. He placed that book behind the seat and looked up here, ¡°Is there something wrong?¡± ¡°That book, you were the author for that, right?¡± He started the engine, sighed and started driving. ¡°It wasn¡¯t that big of a success after it was published, but yes, I guess you could say that-¡± ¡°I¡­ really liked your works as a kid.¡± He turned around in irritation, presumable saw my face or something, ¡°Anyways, let¡¯s not get off-topic.¡± It was a fairy tale-like story of a peasant given the opportunity to feed three lies in hopes to be with the prince. Similar to the Andersen¡¯s style that intrigued the 12-year old me, it was his debut as an author. And besides me was Aiden Williams, former author, currently a Media director. The 5-minutes it took us there; we became both silent. Though, once we have reached the destination of the office department, he broke it. ¡°Let¡¯s go, our schedule¡¯s quite tight as well.¡± He guided me down the car park as we left, to an elevator that led us towards one of the upper floors. And with a ring we arrived at her office. Down at her desk, she remained typing on her computer and unbothered by our appearance. ¡°It¡¯s been a while, Walker.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t recall you having permission to call me that.¡± She typed a few more, then pressed harder on the ¡®enter¡¯. ¡°Who might that person be?¡± ¡°She¡¯s the journalist I¡¯ve mentioned earlier.¡± ¡°Huh is that so, regarding the case I believe Investigator Lee might be available to assist her this time- Oh, speak of the devil.¡± There was a knock from the door, and a man let himself into the office holding a pile of paper on one hand. ¡°Commissioner Walker, here¡¯s the reports from the kidnapping incident,¡± he ignored Aiden and I and passed it to her, ¡°I believe it should be sufficient to be submitted to court.¡± ¡°Thanks for your hard work, I¡¯ll take a final review before any decisions. That being said, you¡¯ve came here at a nice timing,¡± she replied as she received the sheets and pointed to me, ¡°She¡¯s here to grab info for journalism, I¡¯m assigning you to her to assist her for that. Dismissed.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± The Inspector Lee then turned to me and lead me away from Aiden. ¡°Follow me,¡± he said, though he immediately stopped outside the door, alone with just the two of us. ¡°Anyways, congrats on landing on the job.¡± ¡°Thanks, but you¡¯re still more amazing position though.¡± ¡°Totes, though you¡¯re just getting started with being on the TV!¡± ¡°Hehe thanks Dave.¡± He sighed of relief, uttered ¡°We did promise at high school to become something to impress each other. You better not disappoint me on your first task¡­ What are you doing? Let¡¯s get the necessary information to get this over and done with.¡± He reached for the desk and passed me two documents, one with a person¡¯s face on top. ¡°These are the victims of this incident. Two women were attacked on separate dates with knife and were both found unconscious. Though that¡¯d be enough to report, what do you would make of it?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°About the culprit.¡± ¡°Well, since the victims are female, the usual impression would be that the culprit would be male¡­¡± ¡°Textbook answer as always huh,¡± he passed another sheet of a sketch, ¡°That¡¯s what the profiler reached too. The culprit is most likely to be targeting skinny female targets because he either can overpower them easily or by preference only. Though, this is the composite sketch of his mask.¡± On that sheet was a rough shaped face covered in patterns dyed in threatening black. ¡°Seems pretty Asian to me.¡± ¡°I guess so. Also, sorry to say this,¡± he continued and took the reports back, ¡°but these shouldn¡¯t be used for the report. Though, I believe that the information would already be sufficient for your article.¡± ¡°Yeah. But also, you sound like you wanted me to help you in-¡± ¡°That¡¯s because I want you to help me in catching the culprit, not just report things,¡± he declared after stacking the documents elsewhere, Oi, catch.¡± I barely caught it; a canned coffee. ¡°Your gift for landing that job. Good luck on that article.¡± Behind him, I somehow saw words the television typed a message.
''Don¡¯t let him go.¡¯
*** ¡°¡­That should be it regarding the case.¡± ¡°I guess, thanks for all the trouble.¡± He left her office, given a slight relief to have completed two birds with one stone. Around the corner, he saw Inspector Lee and I conversing. ¡°You already flirting or what? Make sure you get at least an interview for the article.¡± Aiden waved his implied farewell and walked past us to the elevator. Because it was close, he felt convenient to pay a visit to a store¡­ a garden caf¨¦ in a nearby alley. He pushed the door and the usual bells jingled. ¡°It¡¯s been a while, hasn¡¯t it?¡± The manager greeted him as if casual, ¡°Want anything for today?¡± ¡°Just an espresso is enough, I don¡¯t have much time.¡± Because the lack of customers, Aiden managed to find himself a seat almost too easily. But at the same time, it allowed him to also succumbed to an immersing ease. The wait of 10 minutes led the coffee to the table and he gradually sipped it. ¡°Thanks, Mike.¡± Aiden picked up the order from the table, then left the caf¨¦ amongst the alleyways to his car. Upon doing so though, he heard faint traces of a scream around the corner. *** 1:50pm.
''Don¡¯t let him go.¡¯
¡°You already flirting or what? Make sure you get at least an interview for the article.¡± We heard Aiden smirked as he scolded us lightly, though he waved his farewell and disappeared from the elevator. ¡°Ah wait for me-¡° ¡°Uh, want a ride back?¡± Tempted, I declined, ¡°Thanks, but I should be fine though." A brief while after I left the building, the streets that I have wandered around transformed into a labyrinth of an alleyway, almost trapping me endlessly here. I wandered around, slightly bothered yet curious. Why would I be sent such a message earlier? Then, words appeared on a wall besides me; words only I could see.
¡®On February 17th 2:04pm, an assault occurs.¡¯
¡°Huh?¡±, I questioned myself, then turned around. If I recalled correctly, the time around now should be- And I see a knife thrusted towards me.