A Prophet's Tale: A Collection Of Short Stories From A Twisted Mind

Curiosity Killed The Detective

While I lay here in my empty, shallow, dark, frightening and insect-infested dirt pit, I wonder to myself if it was truly the fault of the people who drugged me, kidnapped me, tortured me and buried me alive or if it was the fault of my own ever-growing curiosity which leads me to this unfortunate predicament. As an abnormally large earthworm dug into the soon-to-be rotting flesh of my lifeless body, I try to force my vocal cords to make a noise, any noise, but alas no sound is conceived, and even it was I doubt that it would be able to penetrate the soft dirt which fills my mouth and oesophagus. The ever-looming presence of the three-minute timer, now sitting at two minutes and fifty-three seconds, employs a sense of finally realising the reality of my situation within me as I feel my final grasp of life run away. Why? Why did I have to see that f*cking tattoo? At my funeral, they'll say that I was just valiantly doing my job in an effort to cover-up the fact that I was privately fired only five days before the timer on my life began. I don't know what they expected of me. I was a noble officer. I upheld the law. 'Eagle John' they called me. If anyone was to fall down the rabbit hole, it was going to be me. Albeit, I also blame my curiosity on R------, as if he didn't invite me over after our shift to a neighbourhood pool party, he would probably have shielded his hidden allegiance for as long as it was necessary. Two minutes remaining. I knew I recognised the dragon pattern. I caught a perp in 2012 with the same mark. The rat led us to twenty ounces of cocaine and over $400000 cash in an abandoned warehouse. So, naturally, I investigated. Maybe R------ just liked the design. I followed him like a cheetah stalking its prey. I took photos. I gathered intel. I made a bulletin board linking pieces of evidence with different coloured string. I initially found nothing. I thought he was clean. Of course, he was, why wouldn't he be. One minute and twelve seconds remaining. But, then I followed him to a restaurant after work once. I'd never been there. Now, I think to myself 'why did I continue to follow him into the restaurant?' I know why. I needed validation that the man that I trusted the most in this world, who I trusted with my life and the life of my family, was as clean as a newly washed car. And that was my Achilles heel, my Othello's jealousy, my Rumplestiltskin's greed. I couldn't stop myself. The train that was my curiosity and my thirst for knowledge was on full steam ahead mode. And as soon as I entered, I bolted out of there. My partner, the godfather of my child, was meeting with K----- J-------. Of course, I spun out of control. What was I meant to do? Thirty seconds remaining. This was way above my abilities. Basically transporting myself to the home of the captain, I spilled all that I knew, not out of fear, not out of anger, but out of the love I have for R------ and the belief that he could be redeemed. He allowed me to enter and as he did so he fired me. Due to disappointment that I would rat out my partner, or at least that is what I presumed at that moment. Although, even though I was not in the correct 'state of mind', due to the clouds of confusion and curiosity that shaded my ability to perform, I had a sense that even for an accusation that serious, instant unemployment was a harsh punishment. It wasn't until I saw his mark as he poured me out a scotch that I truly understood his motives. And as he reached for the gun hidden within his alcohol cabinet, I jump over his sofa and leaped out his window. Ten seconds remaining. As I drove to my home, I knew what was approaching me. And so I decided to write a note, sent in the form of a decipher code to Officer F-------, as her smooth and beautiful body was the only one that I had seen completely unmarked in the last twenty-four hours. Three seconds remaining. After placing it in her letterbox and returning home to have a final meal before my fate, the soon-to-be stealers of my life arrived at the expected time. Two seconds. I didn't bother pleading. I knew it wouldn't help. One second. I lay here now. Finding myself for the first time praying. Hoping that you figured out the clues, without letting the insanity of curiosity overtake you like it did me. I never thought that when my mother told me that curiosity killed the cat, that eventually curiosity would actually take a life. And finally, as the darkness takes over, I calmly hoped that this had gone differently. That you had found me before I lef---.

...

I retrieved from my letter knife from the kitchen table and I carefully ripped the envelope inscribed 'Melissa Farraday'....