Finally, the next day arrived and Detective Smith sat in his chair as the morning sun poured through the window. He hadn't left the office and instead spent all night wondering " Did I do the right thing? " and waited and waited for an outcome of some sort, of which he couldn't accurately predict. His lonesome trance was interrupted by the sound of the detective's office door creaking open and he quickly composed himself. Charles, his apprentice, entered the room and sat down in front of the detectives desk. He greeted Smith, but the detective did not reply, and only stayed quiet. How was Charles still….alive? Was Detective Smith Wrong? Was Raymond Wrong? As these thoughts raced through Detective Smith's head, it eventually boiled down to the thought of how funny it is that a single simple action could turn everything you thought you knew about something upside down.
" Sir, are you feeling okay? " Charles asked. Smith suddenly sat upright and shook his head, as if he were clearing out a fog that had infested his mind.
" Yes, just…had trouble sleeping, " Detective Smith replied. This case, whatever it was, was far more complicated than Smith had originally thought. And perhaps more dangerous as well. Maybe it would be better if Charles wasn't around for it.
" Charles…I don't know how to put this, but you're off the case, " Smith said, as he put his elbows on his desk and rested his chin on his hands.
" What? Why? " Charles asked, confused and feeling a little betrayed. Detective Smith struggled to make up a good explanation.
" Because the local precinct needs your help on another case. It's urgent and I couldn't get you out of it. Sorry, " The detective lied.
" Ah, I see. Well, then I'll try to solve it as soon as possible so I can get back to helping you, " Charles replied, giving a little smile.
" Good luck, I'll see you then, "
Charles got up from his chair and left the office. Detective Smith breathed a sigh of relief. Now there's one less thing to worry about.
It was time to lay out what little evidence Detective Smith had. A diary written by Raymond Williams, a note found in said diary, and a single large black feather. Admittedly not a lot to go off of, but the detective had to start somewhere. Maybe he could take a few steps in Raymonds shoes around the time before the entries in his journal ended. The final entry detailed an encounter with some sort of crow-like beast and Raymond fleeing to an unknown location. The only place Raymond ever mentioned that would make any considerable amount of sense to go to was the abandoned town. But the whereabouts of said abandoned town are unmentioned. Smith sighed and leaned back in his chair. He has spent a lot of time in his office, maybe some fresh air would help. So he went outside for a nice quiet walk to clear his head.
The detective walked along the sidewalk, his shoes clicking on the pavement. He had been walking for quite some time now so he stopped to catch his breath. As he did, he realized he had stopped in front of something, something that was always there but he never paid much attention to. A blocked off dirt path way only about ten feet away from the entrance to the nature reserve. One of the various signs on the blockade warned trespassers of a heavy fine and possible jail time. Although there were trespassers, they were not fined or put in jail. Instead they just went missing. The disappearances have been going on for years with an inconsistent pattern. Smith remembered his early days as an apprentice, trying to solve these missing persons cases with his superior officer. They were never solved, none of the cases of people going missing in the woods ever were. It came to a point that if anyone was reported trespassing before going missing, an official investigation was never started. Well, not for a while, at least.
Detective Smith was about to start walking again when he noticed a worn out piece of paper caught in a bush just beyond the blocked path. He could've just ignored it, but something inside told him that it was important. So he kneeled down and reached into a small opening in the wire to retrieve the paper, briefly catching his sleeve and giving his arm a small cut. He rubbed his wound and examined the torn parchment. It was a news article, with only the first half of the headline visible reading " Man in Echo Creek-" .