The Baddass Detective

April 16, 2008

Eastwood

1:49 a.m.

"Things could've turned out differently, Gwen."

The depth of a man's voice echoed in the quiet room. Its tone was eerie as he arranged the utensils on the table: a matchbox, a small jar, and their old butcher's knife. He gently put down the fuel bottle and faced the woman who had almost fainted at the events. His hands were tied and his skin was wet from a mixture of sweat and gasoline.

The sickening stench of gasoline made her stomach churn. He had long since stopped struggling because he knew his wife was stronger.

It's no use.

He's a demon in human flesh. Anticipating his next move would mean death to her.

The man frowned when he saw his beloved wife look away. He hurriedly kissed her forehead and wipped away her tears. "Shh. Don't be afraid, dear. This will all be over soon. You won't even feel the pain, b*tch!" An uplifting laugh escaped her mouth and buried the nails in the woman's scalp.

Her screams were muffled by the cloth gagged into her mouth. His scalp was almost torn when he tweaked it. Gwen almost fainted when she felt blood trickling down her forehead. He sobbed quietly and was forced to stare into his wife's eyes.

The man she married two years ago is no longer there.

"You don't know how much it hurts, Gwen. Do you think you can just replace me when you're tired? Do you think it's legal to flirt with that idiot because I'm not here at home ?!"

The man's eyes fill with emotion. His eyes are a mixture of jealousy and chaos. Again, Gwen felt her husband caress her naked body before he teased her.

When the man was satisfied, he happily took the butcher's knife and matches.

"Your heart is mine. Mine alone, Gwen ... and I'll make sure of that."

The woman who was tied to the bed went crazy as her husband cut her skin. Blood spilled into the room as the man smiled. That night, he lost his mind and also his wife.

Moments later, their neighbors had to call the fire department.

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S U N D A Y

February 24, 2019

DEATH's headquarters, Eastwood

8:01 a.m.

Inside his office, Nico pours his concentration into the assessing pencil. His eyes narrowed down to the object with keen observation. He smiled when he saw that its point was perfect.

"In times of need, a pencil can be as deadly as a knife." he whispered to himself and was about to put the pencil in his drawer-along with ninety-nine of its kind-when someone spoke in front of him.

"Is this how Eastwood's greatest detective spends the rest of his morning?"

He smiled when he saw the senior consultant of their company. "Glad to see you again, doctor. What other case will DEATH give me? A missing kitten, or perhaps, a flat tire?" it says sarcastically.

For the last few months, no more exciting cases have come to their company. Nico had to endure even the most worthless cases like finding a missing pet or tracking those silly thieves from a grocery store robbery. Sometimes he just asks himself, 'Are the people of Eastwood losing their minds and they still need to call a detective for these cases ?!' If he only knew that his life in DEATH would be this boring, he would probably just grab a driver.

Dr. Jimenez, a man in his late forties, laughed at him. Someone put this folder on his desk.

"I think you will be interested in this case."

Nico yawned and toyed with the reports stacked on his desk. He was the one assigned by his good uncle to review them. He started making paper airplanes out of them. "How so?"

Dr. sighed. Jimenez on the behavior of their number one agent and a serious expression, "Do you remember a patient in a mental hospital who was bitten by a nurse's hand?"

Nico blinked. "Yup. Released in the news on December 20, 2016. I was in the shower that time but I found it quite ... amusing. It was even on the headlines the following day."

Dr. nodded. Jimenez and continued, "He escaped in 2017."

Nico stopped folding. He no longer followed the gaze of the paper plane that flew around Dr. Jimenez. Now, he has his full attention.

"What in the name of Sherlock are you talking about? I haven't heard anything."

Nico suddenly grabbed the folder on his desk. He quickly read its contents.

"You don't hear anything because Eastwood police are trying to control the situation. They've literally begged the media to keep quiet about it to avoid 'public chaos'."

Nico frowned.

"So. How could those bastards keep this quiet?" He re-read the files, "He ran away in October 2017, massacred a wealthy family and even hacked some policemen!" He was just shaken while looking at the photos of the crime scene.

It was too bloody. Clearly a masterpiece of someone who is out of his mind.

Dr. sat on a couch. Jimenez. "Precisely."

Inside his head, Nico could already hear his mental gears turning. In these instances, his detectiveness works. "And just now did the Heraldic Eastwood Local Police ask for help? Despite the abbreviation of their useless department, they ask for our assistance as frequently as a blood moon. There's something wrong with this," Nico smirked, "When did you learn to ask for help in ' who is their boss? "

Nico already knows the proud chief of HELP. He knew there was a deeper reason for this so he brought the case to DEATH. As far as history goes, DEATH and HELP always had an undying feud between them.

"I believe you're already aware of their protocol. They only ask for help from other agencies whenever the situation goes beyond their control. Just last month they found a corpse. They suspect it was the work of that madman who escaped the mental hospital, Cassio Salvador. "

"Why him?"

"Those photographs will answer that."

Nico noticed the brown envelope placed at the very back of the files. From here, he took some pictures. The photos were captured from different angles. Photographs of the crime scene and they look new.

When Nico notices the similarity in the manner of the murder, he already understands why a mental fugitive is suspected by the police. In the few months he has been working at DEATH, only now has he seen such a bloody murder.

Just now it happened again in Eastwood.

"He seems to have a pattern." He commented while staring at the pictures. He compared it to photos taken from the crime scene of the family massacre in 2017.

The large hole in the victims' chest caught his attention. An internal organ missing.

"He seems to be fond of stealing their hearts ... literally." Nico smiled. Finally, some action!

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