Paper Matches (OLD).

A Metallic Scent.

TW:
Death mentions, cursing, guns, blood

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Taco sat on the ground, the grass prickling at her skin, the blood dripping of her arms and legs. She wouldn't have gone if she knew this would happen. She would have stayed in the forest and ignored the Golden hair enby.

She should have ignored him. It wasn't fair that they had to be dragged into all of her problems. He would have been fine and maybe she would still be alive. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't they have died instead. "Why did she have to die and not me? It should have been me!" Taco wailed.

The salty tears dripped down her face, the taste of iron on her tounge. Her vision blurred as a gold shape reached out to her.

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Knife threw the papers out onto the desk, slamming his hands onto the desk. "What do you mean it has no finger prints from him on it? How could it have not been him?"

"It's really uncertain, Knife." The blonde haired cop spoke. "There's no real evidence of her being the killer other then the cause of death."

Knife started to skim the papers, looking at all the suspected killers. "He kills all of his victims by strangulation, and this last victim was strangled."

The tall blonde cop sighed. "Knife, we haven't even checked the autopsy yet. There's no exact proof of it being her. She's most likely not the killer. There's no way she would have gotten away before we got there."

"What the hell do you mean Paintbrush? He's..." Knife stopped mid sentence. Paintbrush walked over to Knife and pushed him back a bit, snatching the papers from his hands. "Knife, she isn't that crazy. She may be different from all of us but she's not the only one who was born with a large amount of testosterone."

Knife stared into their eyes, smacking himself mentally. "I- Sorry, I was jsut reading of the documents..." Paintbrush sighed and pulled out a pen, crossing out certain sections and correcting them.

"Name: Trophy.
Age: 17.
Gender: Transfem Non-binary. Pronouns: He/She.
Suspected for murder."

"Much better." Paintbrush hummed under their breath. "This is the corrected paper work. Turn it in to the secretary so it can be changed, Knife."

Knif sighed and walked out of the room, heading over to the front desk. "Hey Salt. Paintbrush told me to turn these in to you. 'Corrected paper work' as they said." Salt replied in her cheery tone, her grin masking her short temper. "Ah, Paintbrush has always been one to correct things! Artistic perfection, as they would put it. And about Trophy, she's almost ready for her interigation."

Salt started work on the corrected paper work. "He's not one to talk but has seemed fairly chatty ⟟ Mathe last few hours. Maybe a seratonin boost?" Salt looked over to Knife, signaling that Trophy was ready to go.

Trophy sat on the satin chair, swaying her body back and forth, smiling, her eyes closed. "Hi Knife! You here to take me to my interrogation?" Trophy smiled at him, locking eyes with the silver haired man.

"Yeah. Come on, yet up. I don't want to deal with any of your bullshit today, sweetheart." Trophy stood, her sharp teeth gleaming at Knife as she smiled, The dark eyed boy scowling back at him.

Trophy followed behind Knife, peaking over his shoulder, trying to find out where they were going. Small talk hadn't worked on Knife before so she kept her mouth shut till he was pushed into a chair for interrogation.

Knife stood by the door as Paintbrush brushed past Knife and sat down infront of the golden object. "Alright, let's cut to the chase. Did you do it."

"No. Honestly I think it was Yang, for I have no reason to hurt the poor enby. Yang has a reason. Jealousy. They've done it before, they would do it again." Trophy started up at them coldly. "They've always really disliked people who hang around Cheesy haven't they? And around you. Last time I saw her she was talking to Cheesy. Remember what happened to Lightbulb? I wonder why she died the same way all 5 other victims."

Paintbrush's eyes started to tear up. " That's enough Trophy!" Knife slammed his hands on the table. "Stop fucking guilt tripping them." Trophy stood up. "This session is over." Trophy tried to walk out, but Paintbrush pulled her back by the collar of his blouse. "This session isn't over yet, Trophy. Sit back down or we'll have to handcuff you. Resisting will just make it harder for you."

Trophy moved back over to the chair, an annoyed look appearing on her face. "Why do I have to be here any longer."

"We need more about...them. When was the last time you spoke?" Paintbrush turned their eyes away from the golden blonde, Pulling at the ends of their dirty blonde hair. "Last time I spoke to them...they acted, strange. They said they were going to hurt...someone. They seemed paranoid afterwards." Trophy spoke quietly.

"Who were they planning to hurt, Trophy? We need to know so we can protect the person, make sure Yang doesn't get to them." Knife put a hand on Trophy's shoulder. "They were planning to hurt..." Trophy paused. "Themself..." Trophy turned his body away from everyone in the room.

Trophy's eyes started to water, soon turning into violent sobs coming from her. "I should have helped them! I knew they coped by hurting others but I didn't do anything! God I'm a fucking idiot!"

"Trophy, do you know if Yang hurt Taco?" Paintbrush slowly asked, as Trophy paused. "He hurt her. Really badly. I was there. I didn't stop him I don't know why I didn't stop him I should have..." Paintbrush stopped them.

"Trophy, none of this is your fault. We just need one more thing. "Did Yang kill her?" Trophy hugged onto Paintbrush. "He didn't kill her, just took her to the woods are hurt her really badly. She's in bad shape right now, maybe even in a coma. I can lead you to where she is, if you'd like." Trophy replied. "That's exactly what we need from you Trophy. Let's get going."

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Mic stared at the body before her, slowly picking up the small girl. Her bloody body dulled the strawberry scent she always had. The small change in the air set her mind to follow it, her sheos crushing the leaves below her. It had been a while since she'd seen the object so peaceful. Even if she was covered in blood and the metallic scent consuming any other wood-like scent. Even the strawberry scent was drowned out. Leaves crushed behind her. "Police! Drop the victim and put your hands up!" Paintbrush pointed their gun at the tall girl, making direct eye contact. Mic put Taco down, her hands raising above her head. "Make this easy for us. Name, age, and state of business." Mic paused. "Microphone, 16, bringing the injured to be healed?" Paintbrush put their gun down. "Taco will be fine with us. We need you to come with us for a search." Paintbrush put the gun into its holster, picking up the injured enby, signaling Mic to follow. "Why do you need to search me again?" Mic tried to make small talk. "Weapons. Drugs too. You smell like drugs."

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Words : 1235

This took way to long, almost a week for barely any work and it's super shitty? Damn I have shit memory and motivation. I've been baking a lot (Halloween is in a week) and it's occupied me for a while. I only got 30-60 minutes of writing because of it, this is about 2-5 hours of work and it's absolute shit. I swear the next few chapters will be better, Hopefully getting the next two out in less then a week. Hope you enjoyed this garbage chapter, and if you haven't read my other book while you wait for new chapters (self promo again).

See you in the next chapter

~ Clover