Chapter 1
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Late.
Again.
The bustling hallway blocked my path as I swam through swarms of students. Back slumping from the weight of my backpack, aching. With every tick of the clock, my mood slumped with it.
How could I have overslept?
As time ran faster than I could, I felt my cheeks grow red, feet pacing at a tremendous speed. Long dark hair whipped past my cheeks and I began to regret my decision of not tying it up before.
I was breathless, lungs clenching.
Glasses fogging.
For a moment, the outline of a dark figure emerged amongst the chaos, blurred features still. I glanced only for a muted second – a shadow past the corner of my eye – there wasn't any time to waste.
The chatter grew quieter as I reached my destination – cold beige door foreshadowing my arrival. Finally.
I clenched my jaw, twisting the handle.
It creaked loudly behind, doing all but assisting my stealthy approach.
The projector came into view soon enough, laying its light on my tutor, stance tall and daunting as he rested his hands in the pockets of sleek mossy green pants. I felt guilty, to say the least.
Mr. Vasily waved his hand in dismissal despite the tardiness – something I realised was different from high school. In university, lecturers and tutors tended to let things slide. You were paying the fees after all – and it was your time wasted, not theirs.
Frustration boiled up my neck.
"Ilys, you're thirty minutes late, again."
"Sorry, Tahani. Did I miss anything?"
"Just the quiz in the morning – but Mr. Vasily's about to talk about the assessment."
Sure enough, Mr. Vasily chimed in, "Now everyone – perception and cognitive psych looks at conceptualising sound and images. It is very relevant in various contexts of – "
Tahani let out a small yawn beside me, "Gosh, I love Mr. Vasily's teaching but I swear this subject bores me. Too bad it's compulsory."
I nodded beside her, "Tell me about it. Fun fact: coming to uni, what I really wanted to do was Criminal Psychology."
"Then why didn't you?" the girl beside asked in wonder, fluttering thick dark eyelashes.
I sighed, "Made a mistake and ended up picking a Bachelor of Arts – then majored in Psychology and Criminology thinking the combination would be the same thing."
Tahani muffled a mischievous giggle, "How delightful."
A click sounded throughout the cavernous room.
"Did you hear about last weekend?"
Shudders crawled down my spine.
"Yes."
Tahani sniffled, "All those poor people – and the police say they've got no clue who's done it."
I let out a hoarse grim chuckle. It was something I did on instinct when hit with negative news.
Never an appropriate response.
"I guess that's why they call it the Simplexton Murder Mystery."
It began seven months ago.
The murderer was experienced and seemed to have a growing pattern, targeting ones who seemed innocent; ones who lied and acted behind the judgement of others.
The first case involved Yerin.
Song Yerin was 18.
Young. Charismatic. Charming.
Filled with overwhelming potential.
Before the headline arrived.
OUTSANDING YOUTH MEETS DEAD END.
The murder was well done. A single stab from a knife; body left clean, neatly placed on her bed. Yerin died elegantly; hollow yet dignified.
All of Yerin's friends knew something the police didn't.
Song Yerin was planning to elope with her boyfriend the night she met her misfortune. Her parents, architects and members of the upper middle class, hated her orphaned music-loving partner with a passion. They rejected the idea of any sort of relationship – what more a marriage.
He died a day after they discovered Yerin's corpse.
Gone with another single swift stab.
The police didn't seem to connect the dots.
Yet, with the Song's family's reputation on the line, it wasn't a surprise that her parents stayed quiet (and kept others quiet) throughout the process. They moved right after the incident.
"To mourn."
Some believed that her lover orchestrated the murder before killing himself in guilt – or madness.
It wasn't possible.
Yerin's boyfriend was one of the nicest people who had ever walked the Earth. He single-handedly raised two younger brothers and there was absolutely no reason why he'd kill her. He was also a particularly clumsy fellow – surely wasn't skilled in knifework. Or was he?
Any suspicion flew out the window when the rest of the headlines arrived.
Yerin's boyfriend formed the second case.
The ill-fitted fate of Wendall Johnson.
"Okay class, please remember that the essay will be due in Week 5! If you need any special consideration, don't hesitate to send over an email."
Reality resumed.
As I awoke from my little daydream, the cacophony of talk filled my ears once more. Tahani sat still in her chair, glancing worriedly at me. Her rich dark skin contrasted the bright yellow beam across the room – projector whirring repeatedly.
"Are you alright, love?"
It took me a second, but I managed to nod.
"Of course. I just – I was just thinking about the murders. The whole thing is so complex. Not out of disrespect or anything – but wouldn't it be cool to look at it from a criminal psychology perspective? Could use some of those theories we learned in Week 1 from 'Personality Psych'."
Tahani nodded, sparing a weak smile, "There's always the news articles in the library? Maybe you could go take a look."
I smiled back, "That sounds amazing," I winked, tapping on her henna-laced hand.
Slowly but surely, I rose from my seat and headed out with the rest of the class. As much as I tried to shake away the idea, the murders seemed to have taken a permanent seat on my train of thought.
"Hey, Ilys?"
I quickly whipped my head back.
"Yeah, Tani?"
She rubbed her side, biting down on her bottom lip.
"Don't push yourself. Murder – investigating murder. It takes a toll you might not be able to pay."
YOU ARE READING
Meeting You ✓
Fanfiction*SAMPLE OF COMPLETED NOVEL* It started with two: lovers dead, without a trace. But the murders didn't stop there. Ilys Sun is a university student in the small town of Simplexton. Here, everyone knows everyone. The community is tight, people are kin...
