"Vivian Ortega was found last night by police when gunshots were heard in Decker Street. She had been kidnapped and held in her own florist shop by her own colleague; Caden Craith. Caden and his friend, Jim Ponce, committed all sorts of heinous acts towards Vivian, such as assault, battery with a deadly weapon, and even sexual assault. She was found with two of her children, both were born after she had gone missing," that was when the television turned off.
A reoccurring setting by now, their flat. Michael was staring out the window on an unusually sunny day, an uncommon occurrence in South Otsher. He sat next to a window, coffee in one hand and a folder in the other.
"Well, good job, I suppose," the brunette threw an out-of-place comment.
"How'd you figure out that there was a secret way out?" Arvel asked.
"Neighbours would've suspected something if two men they didn't know kept walking into the shop. Doesn't seem odd to me either that they probably had a secret way out just to get a head start if the police broke in," the noirette responded calmly.
Michael also explained that the missing child was Vivian's. Alarms went off when Vivian's child escaped, but never left the shop because his mother was in too much pain to move.
The brunette was impressed and also glad. The rat in the cage had made his way out. "Uhm, Michael, you never answered, why is there an archive in the city hall?"
Michael's pupils aimed at the brunette before glancing back out the window. "South Otsher is the city of crime. Hundreds of crimes go unsolved, even more end with the wrong person convicted. The archive is there so it could be protected safely, so one day we can punish all those that were responsible."
Michael's monologue ended with him eyeing the folder in his hands, a strong belief rested in his eyes.
Though this chapter of the story had come to a close, another part of this tale was to be left untold. Not to Michael, not to Arvel, nor Caden or Jim. A tale of betrayal that no one suspected. But, was it from the black to the blonde or the blonde to the victim?
Lukas was working in his office when he received the text. A man had entered the archive, wearing all black from the tip of his hair to the tip of his toe. The blonde opened his office door and saw the man in front of him, his black eyes glared deep into his soul.
"He stole the file, you imbecile," the anonymous man said.
Lukas shook his head to the man, his face showed a different look than the look he gave Michael and Arvel. No words left his mouth however for he knew only one thing was certain: the person standing before him couldn't possibly be wrong.
The blonde remembered the words Arvel said before he left with Michael. 'Did your jacket just get more puffed?' 'Did your jacket just get more puffed?' 'Did your jacket just get more puffed?'
The drawer of the 'most wanted' was opened and he searched through all the files, but one folder was indeed missing, the one folder he needed to guard with his life. "Corwin Alcott's folder is indeed gone, sir."
"Well, get it back, fool!" and the anonymous man left.
YOU ARE READING
The Normal's Game
Mystery / Thriller"Power; the capacity or ability to direct or influence the behaviour of others." However, more importantly, it is a never-ending game that is played on the chessboard we have all been forcefully placed on. South Otsher is known for a myriad of name...
