Chapter 1: A Cold Case

1.1K 39 5
                                    

A loud city, followed by equally loud gunshots in the distance. Those gunshots will never be investigated, nor reported. Those gunshots may not have even killed anyone, or maybe those gunshots killed everyone who witnessed it. Regardless, it didn't draw the attention of any law enforcement. There's so many shootings and killings and murders and homicides that occur, it's impossible to keep up. Especially having to deal with the crime scene. 

In my case, I'm the one that has to somewhat solve these crime scenes. A detective, in other words. Or, at least, I'd like to be. I'm a student at the moment, attempting to learn how to become one. 

However, sleeping in a small bed, with little to no room, whilst facing a wall isn't the best conditions to be in. 

"..."

I heard some gunshots in another direction, much closer than the last set of gunshots that went off.

"..." 

A few minutes passed, and there were only a few more shots fired. Everything went quiet soon after. Dogs barking to fill the silence. 

"...I wonder what happened over there." 

It could be anything. A party, a murder, a shooting range that got a little out of control, an accident... I'll never know. 

Well, not that I cared. Yeah, I was a detective, but you get used to the sounds of gunshots after you hear them everytime you go to sleep. 

The only other 'law enforcement' I've been under is the military. Eventually pulled out after my best friend mysteriously died. There wasn't even a note on his bed, so it probably wasn't suicide.

"Maybe it would've been good to be a detective at that time..." I always seemed to blame myself. His bunk was right below me, so I should've been the one to see him leave or get up.

That's not the reason I became a detective though. It was for my parents. Nothing I did seemed to be good enough for them. 

For instance, when I left the military, they scolded me for not finishing the 8 years I was supposed to be there for. They said to join another part of law enforcement, like a police officer, to make up for the last few years that I missed. 

It was stupid, now that I think about it. I was reading a book at the time, one of Sherlock Holmes. It amazed me how he could solve crime scenes with ease, and I always pretended like I could do something like that when I was younger. Foolishly, I told them I would become a detective, mostly so they would stop arguing with me. 

"And now... here I lay, in the consequences-" 

"Can you stop already? I'm trying to sleep for fuck's sake. It's almost 1 AM." 

I turned over in my bed, facing the person who lay next to me. We were sharing a dorm, but there was only one bed that was situated in the corner of the room which we also had to share.

"Well, you're not the one that has to stare at a wall when you sleep." 

My partner turned over, showing their face to me. Her face, to be precise. She has been working with me in my classroom, since forensic science and detective work follow the same line of classes.

"I called dibs on this side, how many times do I have to tell you." 

"Enough times until you admit that I called it first." 

"*sigh* I'm not fighting with you again, Y/N." 

Y/N: "Then just admit it, Rosaria. I called it first." 

Traumatic Benevolence (Rosaria x M!Reader)Where stories live. Discover now