A blindingly bright environment was the first thing Aaron perceived, making it difficult to distinguish his surroundings. As his eyes adjusted, he discerned a plethora of intricate machinery encircling him. The air was filled with the frenetic clatter of keyboards and a cacophony of hurried voices. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, Aaron identified the sources of these sounds: numerous adults in white lab coats, with a few in contrasting black ones. Most of them were engrossed in typing at their consoles, while others pored over stacks of papers at nearby desks. A handful stood closer to Aaron, scribbling notes, likely about him.In the midst of this chaos, Aaron found himself held in the arms of one of these adults. As he locked eyes with the person, he was struck by an unsettling realization. One would expect a birth to be met with eyes brimming with joy and excitement, but these eyes harbored a different kind of excitement—a voracious hunger for power. Even as a newborn, Aaron felt a chilling intimidation from that gaze.The adult then handed Aaron to a woman resting on a hospital bed, whom Aaron instinctively recognized as his mother. His assumption was confirmed when she began to caress him tenderly. As she doted on him, something else caught Aaron's attention. To the right of the bed stood a young boy, approximately seven years old, old enough to have a sense of self-awareness. The boy stepped closer and began to speak, but before Aaron could process his words, the sound of an alarm clock shattered the scene.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Scowling, Aaron flailed his arm toward the alarm clock, missing repeatedly before finally managing to smack it silent. The date glowed in harsh red digits: June 4th, 2023. It was 6:30 AM. Letting out a deep yawn, Aaron scratched his head as he dragged himself to the bathroom. He washed up, relieved himself, and brushed his teeth before heading downstairs. Passing through the living room, Aaron made a beeline for the kitchen. Opening the cupboard, his heart skipped a beat as a cockroach darted out. Instincts from his jiu-jitsu training kicked in, and he dove to the side, grabbing a paper towel to subdue the unwelcome intruder. After dealing with the pest, Aaron cautiously returned to the cupboard, now more vigilant. He begrudgingly grabbed a box of off-brand cereal and pulled a bowl from the shelf. When he opened the refrigerator to retrieve the milk, a rancid odor assaulted his nose. Wrinkling his face in disgust, he examined the carton and discovered it was expired. Faced with a choice between using the sour milk or eating dry cereal, Aaron's rumbling stomach made the decision for him. He poured the questionable milk over the cereal and began to eat, regret already settling in. An hour later, Aaron found himself in the bathroom, cursing his earlier self for his poor judgment.
After an intense battle in the bathroom, Aaron returned to the kitchen, feeling a bit lighter but no less annoyed. He took out his phone, selecting a playlist to help distract him from his earlier misfortunes, and played some music while washing his bowl. Once the kitchen was tidied up, he made his way to the living room and plopped down onto his beanbag chair. The clock was nearing 8:00 AM, and he had an appointment at HQ around 8:30.
Despite the looming deadline, Aaron remained in his boxers, shirtless, and decidedly unprepared. Instead of changing into more appropriate attire, he launched a mobile game on his phone. It was a hunting simulation, placing him in the perspective of a skilled hunter armed with nothing but a rifle, silently stalking his prey. This time, his target was the legendary reptilian beast. Its hide gleamed like ancient, weathered stone, each scale a testament to countless battles fought and won. Stretching over thirty feet in length, its sinewy mass of muscle and raw power moved with a deadly grace. Its limbs, as thick as tree trunks, ended in razor-sharp claws that had torn through both beasts and men alike. The beast’s eyes, glowing with an eerie, malevolent intelligence, peered out from beneath a thick, ridged brow, filled with the cold calculation of an apex predator. Those eyes, betraying nothing but a predatory focus, seemed to perspire "tears" as it devoured all in its path. A master of stealth and ambush, the crocodile hid its massive body underwater, leaving only its eyes and nostrils above the surface. This cunning adaptation allowed it to blend seamlessly with floating debris, making it nearly invisible to unsuspecting prey. As Aaron carefully aimed his virtual rifle, he couldn't help but admire the beast's ruthless efficiency and survival instincts. Time slipped away as he immersed himself in the hunt, the real world and his responsibilities momentarily forgotten.
Despite his immersion, Aaron couldn't shake a sense of unease. He had heard countless stories from fellow players about this particular creature, rumored to be nearly impossible to kill. They spoke of how it would deceive the player into focusing their attention elsewhere, only to ambush them from a blind spot and clamp its jaws around their neck. Undeterred, Aaron launched the mission. His character moved cautiously through the marshy swamplands, the occasional bird call breaking the silence. Frogs hopped near him, their croaks echoing across the water. Everything seemed normal at first, but then Aaron noticed something unsettling: the birds had stopped chirping, and the frogs had fallen silent. The only sound was the sloshing of water as his in-game character moved. Aaron slowly panned the camera, trying to get a better view of his surroundings. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, but the faint sound of water being disturbed behind him set his nerves on edge. Quickly, he turned his character around, aiming his scope at the source of the noise. Expecting to see the slithering killer, he was relieved, yet confused, to find only a branch bobbing in the water. Just as he let out a breath, a menacing hiss sounded from behind him. Aaron's heart raced as he swung the camera around again. “Clever bastard.” Aaron muttered while smirking. He quickly turned around to face the demonic beast, but his phone turned off, and all Aaron saw was his own reflection, with his stupid grin leering at him. “The fuck happened?” Aaron said while trying to turn the phone back on.
It was then revealed that it had run out of battery. "What? But I charged it the entire night," Aaron groaned, frustration bubbling up as he stormed to his room to find his charger. As he plugged in his phone, the doorbell rang. He sighed, knowing he probably should’ve put on some clothes first, but he didn’t have time for that now. He jogged back to the door and swung it open. Standing there was a young man, probably around the same age as Aaron, who was 24. The visitor wore a dress shirt under a casual business jacket paired with khakis. His neatly styled brown hair and polite smile gave him a professional appearance, but his expression quickly shifted to shock when he took in Aaron’s shirtless, boxer-clad state.
“Can I help you?” Aaron asked with a slightly irritated tone.
Averting his eyes, the man said, “Excuse me, is this where Aaron Bell lives?.”
“Who’s asking?” Aaron responded with a skeptical look.
“I’m the officer who was assigned to you, to watch over you while you do your everyday things. My name’s Benjamin Cober, but just Ben’s fine.” the man clarified.
Aaron’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh shit…you’re the parole officer.” Aaron then looked down as he scratched his stomach. “Yeah yeah, uhh, please, come in.”
Ben awkwardly stepped inside, doing his best to avert his gaze from Aaron's near-naked form. Aaron’s small duplex, shared with an elderly woman named Ms. Woon, had the unmistakable aura of a bachelor pad. The living room was cluttered, with a beanbag chair to the right, a table beside it, and a small TV perched on another table. A worn-out purple couch, riddled with holes, sat prominently in the center of the room. The walls were adorned with posters of famous TV shows and movies, giving the space a chaotic yet cozy feel. Ben gingerly sat on the couch, carefully navigating around the holes. Aaron leapt onto the beanbag and sprawled out, clearly at ease in his environment. A short silence settled between them, each lost in their thoughts. Ben wondered why Aaron had greeted him in his boxers, while Aaron's mind drifted to lunch options.
Aaron sat up straight. “So, Ben, I know that it probably came as a surprise when a position opened up to watch over a detective for an indefinite time. Did you volunteer or were you forced to do this?”
“No, no, no. Actually, this is my first major position in the BCI. Before this, I was just an intern, so this was actually a huge opportunity.” Ben clarified.
“I see.” Aaron said as he leaned back into the beanbag. Without looking back up, Aaron asked, “Then, would I be wrong to assume that you know who I am? Or rather, you know what I did that led to me needing a parole officer?”
Ben tugged on his collar as he answered. “Yes, I am well aware of your previous actions.” Ben then took a deep breath. “However, it doesn’t concern me too much. My job is to simply watch over you, until you earn back enough trust to be reinstated back as a detective. Whatever you did before doesn’t matter. What does matter is what you do now, and I will try my best to aid you with whatever you need.”
Aaron slowly got back up. He looked at Ben, and thoroughly observed him. His eyes were confident, brimming with alertness. He had an honest voice, and had the presence of a young but respectable man. Aaron quietly chuckled. “That’s a damn good answer.” He then stood up and passed by Ben. “Let me go change. I shouldn’t be in my birthday suit with company around.”
A few minutes passed, as Ben waited patiently on the couch. This was a very nerve-wracking experience for him. This was his first major job, and it was with the famous Aaron Bell no less. Their first encounter wasn’t exactly what he expected, but he was happy with how calm and laid-back he was. Despite what he said earlier, Ben still had some misgivings about Aaron. However, he was willing to overlook them for the sake of his mission. It was very important after all, to watch over Aaron and observe everything he does. If all goes well, he might even be promoted to an actual good position.
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After a bit, Aaron came down. He had a much more casual attire, with sweatpants and a light hoodie.
Ben, seeing this, had a very confused look. “Is that allowed?”
“Oh, this? Nah, it’s fine. Since I’m not technically a detective, I have a bit more freedom involving my outfit.” Aaron answered while getting his shoes.
“Really?”
“Probably.”
Before Ben could ask further, Aaron got out his phone and proceeded to text someone. Ben saw this and noticed Aaron’s type of phone. “Is that an iPhone 5?”
“Yeah.” Aaron answered while waiting for a text back.
“You have an iPhone 5 in 2023?”
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Aaron calmly said while fishing around the beanbag for his wallet.
“You can literally go to the BestBuy that’s 10 minutes away from here and get an iPhone X there for under $250.”
“$250? You think I just have that lying around here? I can’t even afford Cheerios.” Still searching for his wallet, Aaron suddenly felt something crawl on his hand. He quickly brought it out, only to see a cockroach dancing along his palm. “WHAT THE FU-” Aaron screamed as he fell back in pure terror. He managed to throw off the cockroach, but this caused his phone to suffer the same fate. The poor phone flew right into the wall, as tiny pieces of glass fell down along with it. Both Ben and Aaron didn’t say anything as they both looked at the phone’s remains. A couple of seconds passed by, until Aaron looked back at Ben and said, “You good at haggling?”
As they left to negotiate for an affordable iPhone X, let's rewind to June 2nd, the day it all began. Following the blackout and John's murder, Abigail swiftly called for backup. She instructed Ethan and Michael to scour the area for clues, such as blood trails or signs of an escape route. Before commencing her own investigation, she ordered Aaron to remain in the interrogation room. Surprisingly, Aaron complied. Abigail was surprised by that, and wondered why he actually obeyed. Perhaps Aaron was emotionally drained from assisting Calem's suicide, or maybe he sought to mend their strained relationship by being more compliant. The truth, however, was different. Aaron knew aiding the investigation was futile. Candy Cain wasn't an amateur; he left no traces behind. If there were any clues, they were deliberately there for misdirecting the police force. To Aaron, only one clue mattered: the bloody message, "THE BELL HAS RUNG." To a casual observer, it might seem a threat, signaling Aaron's imminent demise as John had suggested, claiming it would "prove his worth to Candy Cain." But something didn't add up. Why would Candy Cain choose now to strike? And why use John as a proxy instead of acting directly? There had to be more to it, Aaron reasoned. The notion of being a "Contestant" consumed his thoughts. What was he competing for? It clearly involved Candy Cain and his organization, but the details eluded him. Were there others like John, vying for something? It was overwhelming, and Aaron couldn't shake the feeling that there was a deeper layer to this game. Perhaps he was overanalyzing; maybe Candy Cain simply wanted him dead and preferred not to do it himself, given his reputation for laziness. After all, Aaron and Candy Cain had lived together before, and Aaron remembered those days well.
Despite his uncertainty, Aaron had a nagging suspicion that he was onto something. Candy Cain had murdered John, orchestrating the blackout and drugging everyone with chloroform to execute his plan. During this chaos, Candy Cain had broken into John's cell, subdued him, and marked his body with his signature move, using John's blood to write the cryptic message. But a question lingered: why had Candy Cain allowed John to mention the existence of Contestants? Candy Cain had full control over the station and likely had inside help. So, why let John reveal this to Aaron? Unless Candy Cain wanted Aaron to know. Perhaps the message wasn't a warning of imminent death; it was a declaration of Aaron's growth and maturity. It signified that Aaron had evolved into a worthy adversary, someone capable of challenging Candy Cain's intellect and cunning. If the incident with John was a test for Aaron, a measure of his progress since their time together, then it all fit. Candy Cain desired a rival, a detective intelligent and crafty enough to engage in a deadly game of wits. He craved a thrilling pursuit where the detective might actually catch him, presenting a formidable challenge. The theory of other Contestants supported this, suggesting that Candy Cain had more trials in store. However, Aaron still had many missing pieces of the puzzle before he could fully unravel the truth. (The whole notion of Candy Cain wanting a strong rival was formed from Aaron’s past with Candy Cain, and the personality he had that Aaron remembered.)
Around half an hour passed before reinforcements arrived, including numerous officers and forensics. Abigail went to meet them and was surprised to see Sergeant Matthew Donds among them. Sergeants weren’t typically involved directly in crime scenes, especially not Donds. He was known for his precision and purpose, his tall, lean frame resembling that of a robot programmed to solve cases efficiently. Time was his most precious resource, and he abhorred any wastage of it. Frivolity and inefficiency were his enemies, and he believed that every second lost was irretrievable. Seeing Donds there confused Abigail. He never willingly went to crime scenes, considering them beneath him and a waste of time. So, why was he here now? Was it merely the nature of the crime that compelled him to come, or was there a hidden agenda, perhaps a directive from the BCI to treat this as Candy Cain’s resurgence? Before Abigail could ponder further, Ethan and Michael rushed out of the station to report their findings. After searching extensively, all they discovered were cut wires in the power generator and an open window, likely the killer's escape route. Abigail thanked them and then approached Sergeant Donds, eager to hear his thoughts.
“Corporal Roberts, what’s the status?”
“Sergeant, we caught the murderer, but shortly after A-” Abigail quietly paused as she carefully chose her words. “The son killed himself, the power went out. During this brief time period, we were attacked and drugged with what I assume to be chloroform. After we all woke up, we found the body of the murderer in his jail cell, killed in Candy Cain fashion.”
“Candy Cain…” Donds tsked as he pointed to 3 officers. “You three, secure the perimeter.” Looking back to Abigail, “What happened with this station’s officers?”
“There were only 4 stationed during the murder. We found 3 of the 4 passed out, two being chloroformed, while the third was struck on the head by a blunt object. The last officer disappeared without a trace.”
“I see.” Donds then checked his watch and started walking to the station. “I already wasted a minute conversing with you, so I’ll be on my way now. Good luck, Corporal Roberts.”
Abigail nodded as she regrouped with Michael and Ethan, who were assisting the other affected officers. She noticed that the local officers seemed more severely affected than they were. Reflecting on how they had been moved to the body and then woke up to the message, Abigail formulated a theory. Perhaps the killer had used a heavier dosage on the local officers to keep them unconscious longer, providing a window for escape. By contrast, the lower dosage on herself, Ethan, and Michael was likely to ensure they were conscious enough to be distracted by the body and message. But was that the sole reason they weren't more heavily drugged? What if the killer was in a hurry? This could explain the need for a swift escape, using the body and message as a diversion. Despite these thoughts, her immediate focus was on helping Ethan and Michael with the injured officers. She assisted them in getting medical attention, aiding the officer with a head injury to his feet.
“Urg.” The officer’s eyes were barely open as he groaned in pain. His right hand was holding his head, as his left was wrapped around Abigail as she helped him walk.
“How are you feeling?”
“I feel…dizzy. And, I have a splitting headache.” The officer responded as his eyes scrunched in pain.
“Hang in there.” Abigail carefully helped the officer as the two made their way to a stretcher. She assisted in helping him on, and two other BCI officers carried him off for treatment. Abigail returned to the entrance of the station as Ethan and Michael joined her. “First things first, we need to check John’s body.”
Sergeant Donds felt a palpable reluctance as he arrived at the crime scene. His disdain for investigative grunt work was well-known; he had ascended to his current position through meticulous dedication, and revisiting these tasks felt like a step backward. Yet, Chief of Police Amal's orders left him no choice. As he entered the station, an unsettling sensation crept over him, as if unseen eyes were scrutinizing his every move. It was a familiar feeling, one that hinted at a keen observer in their midst. He knew all too well who this staring was emanating from. Looking around quickly, Donds found the interrogation room, containing Aaron waving at him. Donds pretended he couldn’t see him, but Aaron’s continuing flailing and banging on the window was starting to get annoying. Donds let out a big sigh as he walked over to Aaron. He opened the door and let himself in.
“You have 2 minutes.” Donds said while checking his watch.
“You got any snacks? I’m getting kinda hungry.”
Donds turned around and began to leave Aaron.
“WAIT!” Aaron raised his hand as he took a seat. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What is it?” Donds asked after turning around.
“Tell me what Abigail told you first, about what they found.”
Donds’ face clearly showed annoyance, but he told Aaron anyway, about the missing officer, the unlocked window, and the use of chloroform and a blunt object.
Aaron’s eyes lit up as he heard about the missing officer as he scratched his right thumb. “Missing officer…” He suddenly clapped his hands and started rubbing them. “Okay, thanks Sergeant Donds.” Aaron then leaned back in his chair as he began to think more.
“....Bell, what about the thing you needed to tell me?”
“Oh yeah, that.” Aaron sat back up and scratched his head. “I was lying. I don’t have anything to tell you.” He said as he shrugged his shoulders.
Donds didn’t say anything as he stood back up and left Aaron, but not before slamming the door shut. He couldn’t believe he just wasted 81 seconds for that.