Don't Mind Me, I'm Just A Mystic arts Major

–Quick question, what do you do when you're a 21-year-old police investigator trying to survive highway traffic, minimum wage, and leaders who actively don't give a rat's ass about you?, I'll tell you. You grit your teeth and bear it.–

–Dear journal, this is way above my pay grade, but hell I'll do it for the love of the game am I right?–

****

The faint hum of the heat bulb echoed above as Zach scribbled away in his journal.

****

–I was working on a murder case, the first in my career in fact, so I was a little excited.–

–A 19-year-old lady was found dead, hung upside down in a slaughterhouse tortured to death by a pile of maggots eating away at her, the type of stuff you only see in horror movies–

–So I did what a detective should. I asked questions.–

–The slaughterhouse's owner, Mr. Beyfong, very nice guy, told me he left the butchery in the hands of his workers, Tom, Andrew, and Philip, who were still missing after the incident. Locals said they heard nothing from the slaughterhouse during the night.–

–Made me ask myself, would I be quiet if a group of maniacs tried to feed me to maggots? Yeah, of course I wouldn't.–

****

Zach chuckled, then continued scribbling away on the parchment with the fountain pen.

****

–Welp, that was unfortunate. I reached a standstill in my investigation, so I did what other detectives do—ask more questions.–

–Finally, I found Andrew. That stuck-up bastard hid in his girlfriend's house, talk about a weasel.–

–They didn't run away when I knocked. Instead, the cute girl welcomed me.–

–It was nice to see other guys with "questionable" appearances get the hot chicks.*Laughs at my fate of eternal bachelorhood*.–

–Andrew was in the parlor, quiet as a mouse.

He looked... half dead. Like he saw a naked grandma or something.–

–Overall, freaky dude.–

****

Zach's hands trembled on the parchment, but he forced a smile.

****

–I questioned him–

–He said he saw demons roaming around and killing everybody. The girl that was hung, that was only one of them.–

–"Uh... never mind, this man was crazy," or so I thought.–

–He went on to tell me not to trust Mr. Beyfong's wife. Speaking of which, rumors were going around that Mr. Beyfong's wife was having an affair with one of the workers.–

–As I listened to his rants, I felt one thing.

This man wasn't lying. He genuinely felt that there were demons roaming about the night of the murder, yep—said the girl victim was Tom's girlfriend. And he was the only one to escape alive.–

–"Demons?, Yeah man, I think I'm gonna have to detain you for an indefinite amount of time. I don't even think you can be charged with anything with that mental state of yours. At least that's what I told him. lock'em up in an asylum."–

–After that awkward conversation, I tried to bring him to the police station, but guess what? He fled.

After a wild goose chase, he finally slipped through my fingers like a fucking oiled-up di*do.–

–(If I had an assistant it would've been easier by the way)–

–F*CK! Why don't I have any F*CKING assistants, Oh, I know. That's because I'm freaking "underpaid" so I can't hire one.–

–Well, I decided to take a look at the crime scene again with more detail, and there I found a sewer underneath Terra motel, a motel few blocks away from the slaughter house. Sounds unsuspecting right?, Wrong.–

–I found a dead body underneath the pipeline, and it belonged to none other than... Tom.–

–Well, kinda. I could only tell it was Tom only because of his clothes, but his dead body was wrong.–

–A bunch of roses, lilies, and other flowers covered the gaping hole in his torso, a sunflower sprouted out of his mouth and eye sockets making him almost unrecognizable. They weren't placed there.–

****

Zach's pen paused.

****

–They grew.–

–What did I do next?, I contacted the police.–

–They swarmed the place. I tried to take his dead body to forensics, but the police wouldn't allow it. In fact, they didn't do jack shit about the case. They burned the body right there in the sewers despite all my conclusions.–

-That should've told me everything.–

–It didn't.–

–The next week, I figured out Tom had been apprehended by the police. They wouldn't tell me what he was charged with, they wouldn't let me talk to him, and they didn't want me to continue my investigation.–

–Like I said, this was way past my pay grade, but guess what? I'm doing this for the love of the game baby.–

****

Zach pressed his lips as he scribbled.

****

–Now my only hope was to find the third person involved in this slaughterhouse shenanigan—Philip.–

"I searched for days, not wanting the police to find him before I did, but no clues. His mother didn't know where her son was, his wife said she hadn't caught a whiff of him since last month, hell, even his side chick had no idea where he scurried off and died in.–

–At this point, I was getting frustrated.–

–My only hope was to infiltrate the police station and talk to Andrew about this.–

–Well, long story short, I didn't have to do that though. Because "Philip" showed up on my doorstep. Someone I took to be dead just knocked at my door?, You can imagine my surprise.–

–I had to treat him to coffee.–

–He was calm. More calm than the rest of the victims, so I began questioning him.–

–He answered none of my questions and told me that all my questions would be answered if I followed him.–

*Chuckle*– I shouldn't have done that. If I didn't, I would've still been alive.–

–I followed the asshole, and he took me to a container site in the west harbor.–

****

Zach grimaced as a splitting headache shot through his brain, but he kept writing regardless.

****

–There... I found numerous symbols in a tight string that ran all over the containers, the ground, and the walls. In red.–

–And that's when I noticed it.–

–Two of Philip's fingers were missing covered with a bloodied bandage. He fucking ground his fingers down to write all those symbols. I thought he wasn't crazy, I couldn't have been more wrong–

–I asked him what it was, my hand already on my firearm. He told me it was {Origin Law.}–

–Then I asked why he brought me there. He ignored the question and started ranting about the murder scene. He told me everything.–

–Apparently, it was true that Mr. Beyfong's wife was having a secret affair with one of the workers, namely Tom.–

–And that specific night, Philip and Andrew stood guard outside the slaughterhouse to alert Tom and Mrs. Beyfong if Mr. Beyfong approached.–

–They thought they were helping a bro, but that's when Tom's girlfriend showed up. Worst moment of all. Screams echoed.–

–Andrew stayed guard while Philip went in to quell the situation.–

–It seemed this wasn't the first time Tom was doing shit like this, and his girlfriend was, let me say, not particularly happy about it.–

–She grabbed a machete and attempted to flay Mrs. Beyfong with it.–

–What he said next didn't make sense until 8 hours later.–

–He said Mrs. Beyfong... summoned a freaking dragon out of the torso of Tom, a massive beast with two massive wings, hind legs, and a face that could make any living creature under the sun cower in fear.–

–As he said this, the words all over the container seemed to gain life as they wriggled and shifted.–

–That should've been my cue.–

–At this point, my skepticism was fading faster than my granddad's hairline before he died.–

–Then, he told me that Tom was used for some sort of sacrificial ritual.–

–I asked him a question.–

–Then if Mrs. Beyfong killed Tom and his girlfriend, why were you still alive?–

–This sicko smiled at me and slowly raised his shirt, revealing a massive hole in his torso.–

"Who told you I was?"

–At that point, my skepticism totally vanished and only one thing was left. FEAR–

–How are you still alive?–

–"{Origin Law,}" he answered.–

–"Why'd you bring me here?" I asked again.–

–He looked at me funny and said something that destroyed what was left of my fragile mental barrier.–

–"Because {Origin Law} told me to."–

–At that point, I looked at my hands to see numerous strings of symbols flowing around my body like serpents of madness.–

–The writings were physically sliding on my skin.–

–I couldn't take it anymore. I collapsed.–

–What is {Origin law}?, what does it have to do with me?, is there some sort of hidden world beneath ours that surpasses all understanding?–

–I opened my eyes in the hospital, where the doctors told me I was found by the police, and Philip's DEAD body was taken care of.–

–But right then, I was apprehended.

Charged with murder for allegedly killing Philip. A lawyer from HR sent to represent me urged me to plead the case.–

–But I knew something else was happening, something way beyond my scope of understanding, and I would definitely get to the bottom of this. Even if it costs me my life.–

****

I put down the fountain pen, staring down at the words I wrote.

I let out a breath.

Then flipped the page.

–This is the story of my death.–