The Quiet Ones Are Always the Weak Ones

Sunday, 8PM, taking in the bills, case opened.

I’ve got a lead, the suspect is nothing more than a follow-up to the man I thought killed her… He was always our prime suspect, Adam, if anything, he was more than a prime suspect. Two days ago, the crew had to do some searching. We found what was likely to be named, “unknown.” This object wasn’t exactly identified at the time, it was vital evidence according to one of my comrades. The object still sits in a plastic bag. Adam, our prime suspect shared the light with everyone. We found him replacing these objects with some ripped up notes. That we had found back at the scene of the crime. Due to the suspect placing notes around for us like some kind of Easter egg hunt.

We weren’t too far from the case being closed. According to James, we actually had this suspect locked behind bars. However, I was proven to be lied to. James wasn’t exactly your average cop. He was nothing more than a victim to a crime he had committed two years ago. As I shined my desk lamp on the notes we had all gathered, I managed to find some clues. These clues were little messages, and digits that read out an unknown phone number, once put together with the other pieces of paper. James, he knew what was going on. So it seemed. A few weeks back, when a neighbour reported the crime scene to me, I managed to get some details off our so-called friendly officer, James.

James looked at me as I stood in the room with him. The wallpaper was pretty to say the least. Although the walls behind looked cracked and ruined. James’s grizzly smile faced me directly. I looked him in the face, and tried to repeat my questions. I was the cop, and he was the victim. Although, he was mainly known as a hidden murderer. He’d get away with just about anything behind our backs. And then once someone throws the book at him, he drops on the floor with his hands slapped against his deranged face. And his inner demons start to show, his fury, and his true darkness rains on our parades. He is not a victim, he is just a lonely psychopathic freak!

His tragic loss to his family is on behalf of what we wanted. You see, back when James was the Sargent, he knew what he was doing. He had it all planned out, his cheeky little grin would always make us find him suspicious of murders near the station. Not long ago, there was another severe case, this case led to James’s family’s household. After a lot of questioning around the neighbourhood, we managed to find our perp. He was nothing more than the sick father of James’s deranged family. You can call me what you like, heartless, mean, and selfish. I am what I am, I’m an officer on duty. I’m doing my job like everyone else, obviously, I enjoy busting the criminal’s asses. Sadly, even then, I just can’t find myself taking down James for when he goes mad…

Back to the case, the phone number had been gathered together. Me and my officers, we found what we’d like to believe started the crime. Our sources told us that James was still a suspect. It seems that James hadn’t changed whatsoever, he hadn’t even kept his word. He promised to us on behalf that he would not be blamed for any more crimes. We all promised him that as long as he stays committed to the duty of a Police Officer, he would be allowed to leave for lunch breaks only. There’s a reason why James’s lunch breaks had been cut short, and that’s what I wanted to talk about. So sorry to drag you into this, you see, this case is no longer open for discussion. It is now closed… And inside the cases reopening date, you’ll reveal that James is the prime suspect to everyone! – And if he obeys you, you know what to do, I’m counting on you…

You walk in all civilized. You don’t even stop to ask questions, inside the room you are about to enter is a table. This table is what I’d like to call the discussion desk. Obviously there are chairs too, let’s not deceive you any longer. The test results will be in tomorrow, and then I’ll conceal your fate.

Interview #1 – Adam Lesley – Age: 23

“So… What is it you wanted?” Adam asks with a strange look in his eyes.

You shrug off his question, acting like his question was nothing more than an insult.

“You can’t expect me to sit in this room with pure silence, what kind of joke is this?” Adam rocks back on his chair.

The light are dim, that’s all you notice. You don’t even think to look at Adam’s grizzly face.

“Huh… You’re trying to break me, big man?!” Adam shouts.

You don’t even think to look away from the table, you just focus on what’s important. The reason why you’re here…

“Screw this, call your officers… I’d rather be a suspect than someone who has to sit here and breakthrough to a mindless ape!” Adam insults you again.

With all the shrugging you had to pull off. Adam doesn’t seem to find you amusing, he walks out towards the hallway. Not even bothering to ask you any questions. Of course, you didn’t even start the interview, the clock is ticking…

Interview #2 – Kacey Jones – Age: 17

“Unhand me… My daddy could easily sue you!” Kacey makes a disrupted entrance.

Kacey agrees to sit down, she doesn’t look at you in the same way your last suspect did. She smiles at you, and obviously you ignore her happiness. The life in the room feels very dull, drained even. It’s like being depressed but knowing you are trapped for eternity in a job you must continue doing… Remember what your leader said, he told you that the clock is ticking.

“I get it, never look a gift horse in the mouth… Well I’m looking at a horse, and I don’t find you very friendly…” Kacey insults you.

Of course, the insults seem to be building up. What more can you expect from interviewing pure evil? If you wanted a friendly chat, why don’t you get up and leave? I’m sure someone else will take over, remember, the more you wait, the more time you waste. I doubt you’ll be feeling anything by the end of this. So I’ll continue on your behalf. Keep up the good work.

“What is it about you cops, you talk to us when you’re mad or angry with us criminals… Oh sorry, maybe I should have said this: Us innocents…” Kacey made a judgement.

This was nothing more than an insult, it may have felt different. And I’m guessing you’d feel a little sorry for her in some shape or form. However, I don’t want your pity, I just want you to admit the truth. Not exactly to her face, what good would that do? Nothing, I have to remind you, don’t I? You are here for a reason, you work, you make sure the criminal’s punishments and interviews go smoothly. If you fuck this up, I can’t be your one to blame. It’s up to you my friend.

You nod at Kacey’s final words for the interview. Those words were, “Fuck off!”

Not the friendliest exit, wouldn’t you say so too? She had the potential of being a free teenager, and who knows, she probably could have had the potential to become an adult out of prison. So, I’ll ask you again, and I know you like questions. After-all, the more we ask you, the more intelligent you’ll become. We don’t plan on taking any further permissions from your behalf. We plan on keeping the world safer, we don’t want your pity. And we certainly don’t want you to fall down on the job!

You hear the clock is ticking, this instantly reminds you that the words you are hearing is to keep you awake. Not only do you look around the room whilst sitting in an uncomfortable position on a desk chair. You notice that Kacey has left the room, she is definitely no longer to be seen.

Interview #3 – You –

“On your behalf, I’ll ask you nicely… What did you do with the body?!” A voice screams.

You don’t think to answer the question you had been asked. It was delivered so angrily. And you do not like the anger a human being possesses. You don’t like anything that I don’t like, and if you want some kind of freedom in your life span, then please, answer the question.

“M-my name is…” You whisper your name. – The scene around you, it jump cuts. –

“Good, we’re making progress… I don’t want your name though, answer the fucking question!”

You cringe and push yourself against the desk chair’s arms. You don’t even think to answer the question, you look up at the sky. It’s so dull, dark and grey. The flooring is still kind of unknown to you. There is no evidence to push you free, and there will no longer be any more words coming from you. Unless I say something that rattles your brain. Now if that happens, ha, what do you want me to do about that? I could sit here for days, months even. And you on the other hand, you’d probably stare outside a window. After-all, the light sensors in us, ahem, in you. It will just connect your visuals to what we like to call, reality…

“The bodies, five found, and I don’t believe you. Why would you say your name when we are half-way through our interview?” The voice continues.

You shrug this one off, like you did before, remember? Instead of giving what the voice wanted, you offer your hand. And of course, you wanted to know whether you were allowed to speak at this point. The permission is granted my friend, my companion. You have been offered free will, I know what you’re thinking. So don’t bother asking me any dumb questions, ask yourself. And then I’ll reveal what you wanted to know thirty years ago… Before we had to shut you down.

“B-bodies, I don’t know what bodies you’re talking about. I just remember a man called Adam.”

Good, you managed to keep him busy. The voice will most likely check for your evidence. If they find what you didn’t want in the past. Would you blame us? And if I was told something, that I was more of a god to you than anyone else. Would you offer me a chance to live on your dreams?

“I didn’t think Adam would be to blame. Your story does have some confirmation results…”

You nod, you even drop out a smile. Very noble of you, and do you think this is what they want?

“The suspect Adam, he has been our data base for over ten years… Crazy!” The voice reveals.

“In-fact, I think that Adam falls into our collection perfectly. He fits the clues we found back at the apartment. I’m sorry to keep you waiting, I need to know more about you before we let you off the hook. I didn’t want you to ask yourself or even threaten yourself for that matter…” The voice sighed.

You remove your smile, and we remove your feelings for this so-called Adam. If you two were related, would I be right in putting my food down to your every demand? Anything you look at, does it seem blurry to you? I know I’m asking a whole bunch of questions, and our interview has passed its final hour. I’m asking you this, because I want to know what happened also…

Interview #0 – The Voice – (Final Interview) – Sunday, 8th, (unknown year…)

You nod, you try talking, and you forget who you are. You don’t even think to ask questions to this one. The voice doesn’t seem to say much without you being there. Maybe, you just find yourself speaking deep thoughts into your own mind. I wouldn’t put it past you, intelligence is your key.

As you step a little closer towards where you visualised the voice to be. You actually start to communicate better. Social skills are certainly improving for you. You raise your so-called arm and put it down on the table. You place it down, so it can rest…

“I’m your every step, I’m your every voice, and I’m your worst nightmare. And I’m just about to leave you alone. If you want me to stay, ask me. If you think I’m the suspect, tell me. I don’t want too much from you, I just want answers. You know what we see, so please… Answer me, tell me something!” The voice whispers.

You cringe again, and this time there is nothing to hold onto. You wait several minutes, at least that’s as far I can tell you. The unknown time in your area, and the unknown time in general. Would it hurt you, if I had to keep on recording your every move? Would it skin you alive, if I had to break the news in a harmless way? You seem very protective, so why aren’t I?

You notice that the voice’s placement, the placement where you visualised the interview last. You notice that there is some dried blood on the end of the table. As the room spins around to your vision. You focus on what’s important, the case. You don’t ask yourself anything, and you don’t even stop to answer questions. You’ve noticed something that could prove to be something, instead of nothing at all. This vital clue, could it possibly be the answer you’ve been searching for?

“I’m your every look, I’m your every face, and I see the visual life you seek. I don’t like the future, and you grow far from near it. I also can feel the pain you’re feeling, and I don’t have any clues for you. My bad, I don’t mean to harm you in any shape or form, I don’t mean to hurt you mentally. I’m your protector, and you seem to get on with me. I’m your every enemy, and I’m your ally for approval.”

The voice echoes around you. You start to notice more inside of the room you’re in. The wallpaper is pretty hollow. The windows you thought were there, are actually just glass tables rested against the walls. What you thought to be the table, you notice that it’s a stuffed object. Still unclear to you, you keep seeing a wooden table. Something so opaque, I guess you can’t see through it, like I can.

“If I was to knock, would you answer? If I was to hear you out, would you scream? If I was to attack you with no effort at all. Would you be disappointed?” The voice rang your ear drums.

You notice the room spinning more and more. You see more evidence sitting on the thought to be table. You don’t see yourself, you feel yourself. Checking for a pulse? You don’t find anything you were looking for. The dried blood was still there, and an old stuffed teddy bear rested on-top of this so-called wooden table. The interviews you had, they were all real. Whether you believe in them is a different story to cover. Whether you want to leave is also a different story. I think we’ll come back to those one day. And it doesn’t even have to be a day, it could be whatever your heart desires.

With one final word from the voice, you see the room for what it is. “A death trap.” The walls are actually walls. Barricading you from leaving. Blocking your exits, and the voice is what attracted you, am I right? The table is opaque, and that’s why you don’t see it. Why do I see through it? And why didn’t you interview James? He was your prime suspect right…? You guessed that didn’t you. With every murder I commit, you are to blame. Why else would I have you here? Why else would I lock you up and throw away the key. I offered you ways out, I offered you a word that was also a key for leaving this place. You see, I’m a kind man, a friendly man to put it at that.

Next time you call for me, I want you to beg. Because you will soon see what I see, I’ll let you know the results in a few more days. Two on average, I’ll let you speak your own words for once. Sorry for putting you through this. But, with everyone out there and everything believing that I committed hundreds of murders. And taken many more lives than I should have. Why would you trust me? Your results will tell me my answers. Short and sweet, that’s what I like to call it. And then once we’re out, we will be safer in the world of today. And you, I could have killed you back there. I spared you for a reason, we both have the same feelings. I don’t know you too well, but, I know you well enough. With every step you had taken, I was there. You were just a little bit behind me. And now that you have finally caught up to me… I don’t think I can let you live.

I’m sorry my dear friend, but, with you around, who will stand guard? Who will become the crazy one? There is more crazies out there than what we are. We are the sane, in all due respect. I’d let you live, just to say your prayers. Maybe your forgiveness will cure me. Remember, you were always closer to me than you had ever thought. I did that to you, and I’m sure you’ll remember me as a Hero not a villain. Remember this, I saved you from yourself. I’ve stopped what you could become. I am your god, and you obeyed me for the entire test. Good to see some progress being made.

By this time tomorrow, you will forget this. And those out there in the world, they’ll face the same mistakes we made together. Good-bye my friend, good-bye brother…

“Partners in crime.” That is what they used to call us…

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