Interrogation is an art. It is a game. A simple mind game. The detectives know too little and too much. Your job is to fill them in and file them out. If you're really innocent, you have nothing to be afraid of...

----------------------------------------

This dingy, gray room is not any better from the integrated side of this table than the other. I guess this is what the convicts and criminals feel like, a caged rabbit. I look up at the camera mounted on the wall in the tightest corner, watching every move and breath made. So much happened so quickly that aged to get whisked away here. I never truly would have thought I’d end up on this side of the table. Not after my sister-

The door banged open to reveal two beefy-looking men, wearing crisp gray suits and harboring a stern look on their faces. One has the largest tattoo of a butterfly arching up and around his neck like a large hand wrapping around his throat. The other has a kinder atmosphere to them despite the look on his face. And lovely blonde hair at that.

I bite my lip to keep in a laugh. These are first-timers for sure, always trying to scare answers out of people. The blonde one looks at me while the other- a bald man- walks around, a cat stalking its prey.

“Is all of this really necessary boys?” I ask, making sure boredom snakes its way into my voice. They appeared surprised at my sudden bite, surely expecting me to quiver under their gaze. They exchange a glance but I don’t miss a beat.

“If you plan to integrate me, let’s make this quick. I’ve got to get back to my assignment. And did you call my boss first before trapping me in here like an animal? Surely this is unethical.” I smirk. And just like that, their bold masks are cracked and have fallen into their open mouths, surprised even more.

I get up and make my way to the door, closing their slack-jawed mouths as I pass. “Wouldn’t want you two to drool on this newly waxed floor.” I walk out of the room, heading straight for my car when I hear someone call my name. I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I turn around.

I see the flash of bright green eyes that look eerily familiar.

Ah shit

Percy.

I don't have the energy or thehoratience to deal with her right now. I quickly muster up a small smile and I walk over to her. Upon getting closer to her, I see she’s beaming with pride. Jeez her ego is worse than a guy’s. I sigh inwardly and feign curiosity.

“Ye Percy,? What can I help you with?” I ask.

“Grayson! I wanted to catch you up on what the other investigators found at the scene.” She pulls out her small notebook and starts flipping through the pages, Wow. Despite her chaotic personality, she is quite organized. She stops flipping and reads from her notes.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“The Elane had thick ligature marks around her wrists, indicating she was bound. And Kylie had fingernail prints around the jugular of her neck. And the nail prints had red nail polish residue.” She clicks her tongue. “The pain of being a pretty killer.”

I think over what I saw at the scene. “But there were bullet wounds along their arms but no blood. No blood remained in either body as if something sucked it all dry.”

Percy gasps and jumps around like a little girl at a carnival. “Are we dealing with a Vampire?!”

I shake my head. Why was I always paired with the immature ones? “No,” I say, on my last stand of patience. “This is real life. Not Twilight. So get real Percy.”

I turn to go, now deep in thought on how we should go about this case. II toldll odd one. I arrive at the elevator and press the bright white Lobby button. As I’m waiting for the elevator, I hear fast heels clicking the tiled floor, getting closer.

“But Grayson,” Percy balks, contemplating whether or not to tell me something. “The little girl with the family? She was playing with the girls in the forest when everything went down. The girl has Sanfilippo Syndrome.”

I look at her with a funny expression on my face. “You’re telling me that this little girl has Child Alzheimers? But that condition is rare.” I say, trailing off.

“Well, yeah, it’s rare but not impossible to get. When asked about what happened, she said she doesn’t remember. She kept repeating that the girls were pretty”

I tap my foot as I begin to pace. A moment later, I hear the ping of the elevator and I say quickly to Percy, “Okay well, find out what else you know. If you find anything tonight, call me.” She nods and I get on the elevator, and lean against the bar. This girl is our one and only chance of actually solving this case. Problem is, whatever happened is now gone and done for, not coming back any time soon.

I sigh and once the elevator stops at the Lobby floor, I step off and head to the front desk to clock out. When I pass the clerk on duty, she calls me.

“Grayson! We have news that some reporter has found out something about the case. Please tell me you’ve found at least some shred of evidence?”

I stop mid-step and turn to face her. How had they found something that fast? No one said anything to them as far as I know. “I’ve found a little bit of something but the big part I need is in the head of a little girl. Problem is, no scientist, even Albert Einstein himself can recover what we need.”

The clerk nods sharply and turns back to her computer. “Just know that a little bit goes a long way.”

I chuckle and head into the back to grab my purse. I then clock myself out and head out the door, only to be met with the biting cold of the Chicago air. Winter here is brutal. But I don’t suppose it’s anywhere near as bad as Canada. I sigh and a white cloud of breath trails from my lips. I smile and head to a nearby coffee shop to warm myself up before heading home. I pull out my phone to read the time. 8:44 PM. When did it get so late?

* * * * * *

I take a long, piping hot sip of coffee, followed by a cool, sweet bite of a chocolate donut. I laugh to myself. I’m starting to fit into the police stereotype aren’t I?

Between sips of coffee, I begin to think about the oddity of this case. Never had I ever experienced a case where the blood and other fluids are just.. Gone. Completely sucked dry. Almost as if someone found them a while back and drained them, only to drag them to the forest. I shake my head. It couldn’t have been a vampire though, could it? There were no puncture marks. Only bullet wounds along the arms.

Bullet wounds yet no bullet shells. Bodies yet no blood.

No DNA.

Nothing.

It’s almost like the person responsible is someone who knows

exactly

what they’re doing.