“A 34-year old woman found dead in her home, detectives suggest burglary. Police warn citizens to be careful as the suspect still on the loose. The suspect has a scar under his left eye. If you even saw him please immediately call the police. Another murder in Deofodil….”

“Are you really not changing your mind, sweetie?”

“You know how much I waited for this mom” I said, resuming my breakfast. “Besides, it’s the only way…look at the news! It’s always been about a damn crime! Aren’t you getting tired of that?”

“Of course it’s getting tiring but…” Vienn put down her utensils and look at me, “But if it means risking your life into danger, I wouldn’t mind seeing it all day, watching world burn even”

I stop eating and return her gaze. The sadness, worriness, all contained in her tired brown eyes. I know she cried last night—can’t help at the thoughts of her only son leaving. Away from her embrace with my life always in constant danger. I know she only thinks the best for me and it would be selfish for me to go. But…it would be more selfish of me to not go given the situations of the world. They need help. They need more of it.

I look at my father who’s silently eating, expecting that he would understand me unlike my mother.

“Your mother is right…” His words pierced my heart. “You should just stay home and wait until your old enough to take over my business”

“But, I want to he–!”

“Help? You know you could do that even after inheriting my business.” He glared at me. Cold even with wrinkles appearing under his eyes. “With money, you can help more people than the path you’re taking now.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Of course, I know that! I know very much more than you do, young man.” He raised his voice, his tone was sharp but immediately softened when he saw my surprise. “I know you want to be like him, but..he’s gone! Son, he’s gone! You need to accept it as it is.”

“I know! But, the world is in urgent need of replacement. A new symbol of peace! And tha–” I stuttered, knowing that they would hate more what I will say. But I keep going. “That will be me!”

As I expected, my words made my father more furious. My mother was shocked that she dropped the glass. Her eyes began to water. They only know I want to be a detective, not I want to be the…

“Symbol of peace?You want to be The Dove?” My father was the first to react, to get a hold of himself. “Did I hear you right? Honey, tell me…did our son really say he wants to be the new symbol of peace?”

I fixed my gaze on them to show that I'm serious. And to my surprise, “Hahahahahaha!” My father began to laugh. I didn't expect it. It scares me, but not more than when I see him stand up in his seat and grab me by my collar.

“Are you fucking crazy!?” He shouted. His eyes red in fury. This is the first time I see him so angry. “Do you think you're the main character of some story of shit!? Be The Dove you say!? Is this some kind of joke to you!?”

My mother also stood up, trying to get me away from the hold of my father’s grip. She’s already crying.

“Do you think you’re much better than them!? Than Silver? than Cuff? than thousands of detectives and police out there!?” I feel his grip tightening. But I do not struggle. I listen. I know more than to add fuel to the fire.

“You think you're worthy!?” He threw me on the floor, feeling the coldness of it on my back.

“No.” I admitted. “But, that’s why I’m going. To be worthy”

Silence filled the house. Breakfast had gone out cold. Broken glass under its place. The little sound of flickering flames on the fireplace was the only one keeping the room alive. But, was soon covered by my mother’s weeping and father’s ragged breathing. I could feel the atmosphere losing its cold. But, it's getting heavy instead.

I kept my head down, and only stood up when I noticed the time in the wall clock. “I’m going” I said, as I fixed the collar of my suit. I received nothing but the increasing sound of my mother’s weeping. But it’s enough. I grabbed my things and walked towards the door.

I looked back and saw my father still standing, head down. My mother's on the floor, her hands covering her eyes. My tears are on the verge of dropping out. But, I hold it. As I refused to release my pent up emotions here—frustration, tears. And only mustered up my courage to say…

“Goodbye, mother, and father. Take care.” But before I could close the door, I heard my father’s faint voice, “He died by the hands of the criminals. And you will die if you keep this up too. The world is much darker than you think, Luther. Much more scarier”

I nod my head, holding my tears, “I know father, I know” I finally close the door and walk ahead. With the sounds of two crying people behind.

***

I traversed through the streets, with only the light of lamppost guiding me through the fog covering almost all the gothic buildings lined up. It was only 6 in the morning. The sun has yet to reveal itself. Despite that, there’s already many people walking around— wearing suits of all fine colors, along with their canes and top hats. Sounds of clattering hooves on the stoned roads tell that this was also gonna be a busy day.

I tightened the hold on my case, turn towards the alley. I want to meet someone first before I go. Consider him as my teacher and…friend. He always listens and understands me. Give me advice better than my parents. He needs to know that I’m leaving. He at least deserves this much.

“Ow!” I was deep in my thoughts that I didn’t notice there’s someone in front of me—bumped at him. “I’m sorry!” I hurriedly apologized and tried to walk past him. But he grabbed my arm before I could.

“Look kid, you bumped into someone, and you only said sorry?” The man turned to face me, looking me in the eye. With the help of faint lighting, I noticed a scar under his left eye. My blood turned cold, drained in my face. My hands shook and lips trembled, but I immediately composed myself before he noticed something. I know better than to panic here. Telling him that I know him and saw him on the news will only make my situation worse. I look at both ends of the alley, hoping someone will see us and get to call the police. And I will stall time by then, but to my horror no one was there. The fog was too thick for the people to notice us here! Unless, I shout but…he’s gripping me tightly. And by the time the police come here, I know I already breathed my last. We’re talking about a murderer here!

“Ya listening kid?” The man breaks my thoughts, tightening his grip more to my arm. “Just give me your money, and we’re done here.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Okay” I sighed in relief when I heard that. “Just let my arm go so that I can take it”

He smirk and released his grip when he realized I’m being cooperative. I shook my hurt left arm. And put my hands inside my case.

The man grinned more at the sight but turned 360° when he saw that it’s not money on my hand but a spray. A homemade pepper spray!

I quickly sprayed it to his eyes, and kick him on his crotch much to his surprised. He grimaced and kneeled in pain. I immediately run and shouted, “Murderer! The murderer is here! Help!”

The man soon recovered himself, faster than I anticipated. But, I’m already meters away from him. However, instead of running outside the alley, I turned to face him. The police are gonna be here no more than 2 minutes. And he’ll be already away before that. So I need to stop him. I refused to let him go given that someone will be his victim next.

“You!” The man glared at me with fury. It sent shivers down to my spine. He took something out of his pocket, revealing a knife. Its blade shining through the light of the peeking sun.

I swallowed hard. The fog was beginning to disperse. He rushed at me, knife on the right. I evaded his every slash. It was stupid of me to fight someone with a knife. But my friend was a good teacher. He taught me all he knew and that includes how to fight.

I stepped to the right as he aimed to stab my left side. But, I’m late enough to cut my coat and grazed my side. So close! If I dodge a second later I think It will leave a hole on my side.

I punch his right arm strong enough for him to lose grip of his knife. Seizing the opportunity, I twist my foot and uppercut him, making him stumble on the floor.

Soon, the police came. I explained what happened and they immediately arrested the man. They asked If I could give them my name, but I refused. I’m in a hurry so I cut off the conversation before the crowd gets bigger. Of course I didn’t forget to thank them for their service, before I continued on my way.

***

Soon, I arrived at the front of a shabby looking bookstore. It’s mostly made in wood and it’s color ....well, a little bit darker than my taste. But, I already got used to it, as I frequently visited from the moment I chanced upon it 2 years ago. I fixed the broken sign before I entered, and the familiar ring of bell welcomed me.

“Welcome!” I heard a hoarse voice coming from the far end of the bookstore, along with the sounds of books being placed on the shelf. “Please wait a minute, I’m just arranging some new books here. You could take a look around if you may, while you wait”

I laughed when I heard that, “As much as I want for you to have a new customer, I will disappoint you, old man. It’s just me, Luther, your one and only customer!”

The shuffling sounds of books stopped, “Yeah, I figured as much…” then continued.

“No, you didn’t!” I said, annoyed. “You clearly didn’t know it was me until I talked!”

I stomped on my way until the end of the lined up shelves, and spotted an old man—with small hat and rim glasses. He glance at me briefly, “Nice try, boy, but you didn’t masked your steps completely…” He paused, then pointed at my nose and flick it. “And you forgot to control your breathing. You're wasting too much.”

I rubbed my nose, and picked one of the books inside the box, beside the old man. “But, I almost got you aren’t I? Admit it!”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s almost, the only matter is if you did it”

“But-”

“Can you still say the same if it’s catching criminals? A murderer?” the old man put the last of the book on the shelf, and turned to look at me, his tone quickly changed. I sense it's gonna be another quick lesson.

“No…but I will not stop until I catch them” I met his eyes.

“Do you? How many will they kill before then? One? Five? Dozen?” The old man shrugged, amused. “Be serious.”

“I’m serious!”

“You don’t look serious to me”

“I really am! More than enough to catch them at least.” I smirked.

“Oh? Getting a big head aren’t you?” The old man approached me, “You just learned how to fight, and you think you know how the world works now?”

He stepped forward, and I instinctively stepped back. During our training, he beat me up a lot, enough for my body to remember him. And for me to fear him more than my father.

“Look, Luther, If you really want to be a great detective, you need to be precise!” He pointed his finger at my chest, so hard that I could feel the pain. “There’s no room for failure, as this means more lives will be taken. More things will be lost..”

I stared at him in the eyes, seeing emotions in his black pupils, I couldn’t identify. But, this is not the first time, As I saw it before, when I asked him to teach me. I felt his emotions always resonating. Like he speaks with experience.

“Do you understand, Luther?” I retracted my gaze, and nodded my head in defeat. He's right. And it looks like my head got bigger when I caught the murderer. I must engrave in my mind that not all criminals are the same.

“Now do you care to tell me if you're here to just simply read books or tell me why you have a cut in your side?” the old man asked, walking back to his counter. I put the book into its shelf and followed closely behind. “Well, both actually, and…a lot more” I said, not surprised.

I bandaged myself, and after that, I told everything of what happened in the alley—my fight and how I caught the murderer. The old man listened while reading a book, flipping its pages. He nodded then and there, but most of the time immersed into his book. I sighed as I finished recounting, “Are you listening, old man?” There’s only silence. I look at him, still reading.

“Ha…” This isn’t new. It always happens when Old man is too immersed in his books. He couldn’t be bothered, and be bothered by anything else. Nothing I could do, except to wait until he’s finished.

I laid back on my chair, stretched my limbs, while my eyes wandered around the library. Even, I've been here more than in our house for 2 years, I still can’t get used to the number of books here—all of them arranged in long lined up bookshelves.

The second floor alone has three shelves—fiction, non fiction, and poetry. It’s also where the old man’s room is located, though I haven’t been there yet. The first floor has at least 4 bookshelves—history, human psychology, anatomy, mysteries, politics, etc. All knowledge enough to be considered wise are all contained there. I always wonder how such an old man like him gathered all those books. Did he buy them? To where? I doubt anyone would sell such a precious knowledge. But, If there were, then they’re a fool. Ironic.

I stand and walk up towards the third shelf on the first floor. I still have time till I go, and I know the old man will take quite some time, so why don’t I read some books since I have nothing to do anyway. I grabbed a book, went back to my seat. I glanced at the old man still absorbed in his book, then I glanced at mine. The book has a hard red cover, it smells old, surprisingly not dusty, evidence that someone just read them recently. It’s the old man perhaps..

I read its title: A Century-Old Mystery. Interesting… I flipped through its pages and started to read.