It's him again.
"Detective Cain don't you have anything better to do than harass me, an innocent man?" I cross my arms with a raised eyebrow. Can't I obtain a restraining order against him? I have a feeling this won't be the last time he harasses me.
He smirks, "When I find evidence I'll be the one to throw you in jail myself."
"Good luck because I'm a law abiding citizen who never did and never will murder anyone." I shrug my shoulders and turned around to walk away.
Cain clears his throat, "You better watch your back and hide your tracks well because I'm on to you." He gives me the 'I'm watching you' gesture with his fingers then pulls out a cigarette and goes back inside.
What type of person goes inside when he wants to smoke? He's so inconsiderate and messy. If he wants to harm himself he should do it outside so others don't have to experience passive smoking effects.
These detectives probably think I'm some sort of murdering psychopath. All the ideas I used in the novel were built on the personas of real psycho killers like Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy so it makes sense why they come to the conclusion. But I don't only write crime novels, I mean if they read 'Days gone by' with that flawed logic of theirs, they'll probably think i'm just a little kid with trust issues; if they read 'Back in the Day' they'd think I'm some kind of sentimental teenager suffering from an extreme case of unrequited first love.
A taxi passes by and I stop it; They didn't even have the courtesy to give me some taxi money or drop me off after snatching me from the grocery store. Thankfully I have my wallet on me. My neighbors who saw me get arrested are probably making up the greatest rumours about me. They always seem to have some crazy story about me. For some time they even spread a rumour that I'm a vampire because they almost never see my during the day. By tomorrow I'm going to be the talk of the town. For all they know I could've been arrested for shoplifting.
The taxi ride was silent, something I'm grateful for. I hate when someone tries to make conversation with me because I'm too awkward and I don't want to make them feel bad by replying dryly so it just ends up being an uncomfortable ride.
I pulled out my wallet and gave him some extra tip which he accepted with a wide smile before driving away.
My next door neighbour Julia popped her head out of her window. "Cameron! What happened? I saw you getting shoved into a police car." she asked. She didn't have a concerned look on her face rather it was more like... Curiosity?
"I was arrested."
She rests her elbow on the window pane, "For what?" She continues to probe. Her brows raised with curiosity while a smirk begin to form at the corner of her lips but she caught it and fake a look of concern.
Can't she take a hint? I know she saw me get arrested but I don't want people to think I might be a murderer. Some of the elders already believe I'm a vampire and try to avoid me at all costs. One time an old man who lives just a few houses down saw me walking down the crossroad got frightened and started running frantically. He fell and fractured his wrist. It's not my fault but I feel like I'm responsible.
"It was a misunderstanding."
She sighs. I'm not going to tell her because I know she's responsible for half the conspiracy theories about me.
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"Oh I'm glad you're out now. See you around." she sends me a fake smile before closing her window. What a pain she is. I've never meet someone faker than her in my life. She pretends to be nice to get information out of you then use it to gossip. I heard she even blackmail some of her old neighbours with their secrets. But she's truly just a sad soul. She lost the closest people to her in a fire. I try to tolerate her as much as I can.
I always hide my spare keys in my flower pot and not under. Genius right? But now I can't be too sure of the copycats intelligence or intuition so I can't risk having a spare key outside. I dug it out of the flower pot and used it to open the door.
Oreo tackled me to the ground. She's a samoyed and is the friendliest dog you'll ever meet. She's always saying hello with those tail wags and eyes that sparkle like stars. She's a furball of happiness. An exuberance that needs to sprint all over the place but if she senses just a little sadness emanating from you, she'll do her best to make you laugh. She's like an ethereal springtime with sweet emotions.
Her white fluffy fur almost suffocated me to death. Poor girl must be really hungry. I took of my shoes and slid into my slippers. The kitchen floor was painted with dog food. Oreo had knocked down the container. It took nearly thirty minutes to clean it up. I poured Oreo her food and headed to the living room.
Instant relief washed over me as a slumped into my couch. I turn on the TV and flipped through the channels mindlessly.
"A man in his thirties was found dead in his apartment. Forensics have determined that he died of blood loss. He was found in his bathtub in a pool of his own blood. It's been established that the man suffered greatly in his last moments as many arteries in his brain had burst from the severity of the pain. Yellow and purple flowers were scattered on his blood all around his corpse which was dressed in a black suit. The crime was described to be the work of psychopath as not a single piece of genetic evidence or physical evidence was found indicating through planning. No main suspects have been identified as of yet but police are investigating a possible suspect, the author of 'A Symphony of Murder' as a crime occurring in his book has an uncanny resemblance to the crime committed by the murderer. Whether it is him or a fan of his book police suspect that they have a serial killer on their hands."
This made it to the news much faster than I thought. Thankfully they didn't mention my name but now everyone who knows I wrote this book will spread the news. I adjust the pillow under my head as I mindlessly watched the rest of the news.
"Breaking news. The man has been identified as the Doll-maker. Newspaper clips of his victims, mummifying agents and preservatives have been found in his apartment. His DNA matched the stored DNA of the Doll-maker. The serial killer that has been terrorizing the country for two years. Countless girls have fallen victim to this serial killer and their bodies where found so well persevered that many of their families still believe they're alive. Even with the morbid, macabre nature of the crime, the people of the internet are calling the man who managed to track down this infamous murderer and stop him from committing further crimes a hero. He's been given the nickname Gladiolus which is a flower and based on the symbolism being heroism. We'll read you some opinions that many people seem to share."
"How dare the police call him a serial killer when they couldn't even track the actual serial killer that killed so many young innocent ladies? Gladiolus is the vigilante we needed this whole time. I hope he's never caught and continues to get rid of people like that doll-maker."
"He's my hero. I used to fear for my life when leaving my home knowing that I may fall victim to the doll-maker but now, because of Gladiolus I can let my guard down just a little."
"To the people saying he should've handed him to the police instead you guys need to understand how complicated our justice system is and that there is a possibility that a he may be able to get away with it. I'm glad he took care of it with his own hands and rid us of that monster for good."
People are so relieved that the serial killer was finally found that all of them are having visceral reactions. I'm glad he was removed from this world so he can't terrorize his victims anymore but at the same time we can't have people going around and administrating justice on their own. I shuffle through the channels but grew bored as there was no new news. My eyes lids are starting to feel heavy now. I turn off the TV and dragged my feet to my room upstairs.
My closet was open and my favourite boots are laying on the floor in front of it. They've been mutilated. I can't bare to look at them so I kicked them to the side.
Oreo just won't learn to stop ruining my shoes but I'm too tired to discipline her, not like she ever listens anyway. I collapse into the comfort of my bed and before I realize, I'd fallen asleep.