Chapter 8: Another Victim

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents... some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new Dark Age." —H.P. Lovecraft

"Indeed, the human mind appears to suffer from a crippling need to fabricate in the absence of concrete proof." —J.R. Ward, Lover Mine (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #8)

"We are here to become great men and women, and with that purpose in view, we must eliminate everything in our religion and philosophy that tends to make the human mind a dependent weakling. If you would serve God and be truly religious, do not kneel before God, but learn to walk with God, and do something tangible every day to increase the happiness of mankind. This is a religion that is worthwhile, and it is such religion alone that can please the Infinite." —Christian D. Larson, Your Forces and How to Use Them

"The human mind is often, and I think it is for the most part, in a state neither of pain nor pleasure, which I call a state of indifference." —Edmund Burke, A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful

***

Waking up without having to worry about breakfast was such a fulfilling satisfaction for Xenia. When he woke up, he saw his father chopping the ingredients for their breakfast. Such a hardworking man Volcom is.

"Oh, Xenia. Come help me peel these potatoes. I need to look after the soup I'm cooking."

Gladly, Xenia took over what his father was doing, peeling some potatoes and slicing them up into considerable cube sizes.

"That smells good!"

Once in a while, Volcom would cook his signature dish. The reason why he does not always cook his favorite dish was that they could barely afford the ingredients for it. But with the money Xenia gave him yesterday, he bought enough ingredients to make some stew with mushrooms he picked up around the forest.

"After you're finished with the potatoes, throw them in along with the carrots. It should be ready in 20 minutes."

"Got it!"

***

The clanking of chimes in every store whenever a customer comes and goes filled the owners with satisfaction, wagoners excusing their way to the crowded road, and people swarming the central market murmured to each other's ears.

"Oh my! Since when did Balmack become a dangerous place?"

Those who could not handle brutality could not suppress the urge to throw up. In front of people was a man, buck naked and decapitated standing with one foot barely balancing itself while his stomach was gone. To make up for the hole in the belly, someone was cruel enough to put the severed head inside the hole on its stomach.

Even people who could handle such a horrific scene had to avert their gaze every now and then, for the spiteful sight not to engrave itself in their memories. However, it was as horrible as it could be that their head would instantly flash the scene in their mind whenever they tried to close their eyes.

"Move over! Make way!"

Grenoble and his men came to investigate and clean the scene, so no more people would witness the nightmarish sight.

"Inhumane, truly inhumane."

They shook their heads in disgust. It would take a psychotic mind for someone to execute such a sight. Never had they ever thought of seeing a dead body in such a state. Even with the Sulten Tribe around the mountain, murders like this one and the last time were unusual and totally unheard of. Balmack Island is supposedly safe and has always been danger-free even after the started inhabiting the island.

"Okay, okay, those that have nothing to do with the dead body should move on with their business. And people who could be of help should remain for questioning."

Grenoble's appearance was that of a middle-aged man with white hair and few remaining strands of black hair. He was fairly built and about average in height.

They see Grenoble as a respectful and reliable person. He would always try to help in any way possible. However, this helping hand he would stretch to anyone would not reach Xenia's family. It might be because seeing him help the hated family would tarnish his reputation.

Balmackians are democratic people. Everybody is free to run for the position of the town's chief and holds the power to control mostly the entirety of the island. But you can guess that the chief holds no power against the Sulten Tribe.

Assigned people secured the area while Grenoble inspected the body. He was different from the others. While other people were horrified by the frightful sight, Grenoble, on the other hand, seemed as though he was fascinated by the dead body.

"Is this a form of art?" He muttered to himself, staring with pure fascination at the dead body's severed head. "A clean cut once again. And the body is stiff as hell."

One thing that was mysterious about the body was how the killer made it stand on one foot while looking all uneven. The mass outweighs the other side, and yet the body does not even fall.

"Uwah! The body is as hard as a rock!"

"It's like it has been solidified for this purpose!"

Fewer people from the earlier crowd remained at the crime scene. These people that stayed in the closed central market are people who have something to say about the incident.

"Grenoble, should I start asking these witnesses?"

Doro is Grenoble's, right-hand man. He is associated with the government and has been on the island for about 2 years. Doro easily adapts to his new environment and builds up a respectable reputation around elders.

"Yes, Doro. This will actually take us a lot of work, so we should get on

with it fast and efficiently."

With a small notebook in his hand and a pen, which he was spinning around his fingers, Doro began questioning the witnesses about what they saw or heard last night.

"Let's start with you. You said your name is Irish, right?"

"Yes" was the only word that came out of the woman's mouth, and yet Doro started drawing a sketch of Irish's face. "Um, does creating a quick image of me would help. Being drawn in your notebook actually makes me feel like I am the suspect being interrogated for a crime I did not commit."

"I am bad at remembering people's faces. That's why I am making a simple sketch of the witnesses' faces and writing down their statements regarding the murder."

"I'll cut to the chase. It was blurry and dark last night, and I was kinda drunk, but I definitely saw a kid chasing that dead person right there. And since I was feeling tipsy at the time and was not pay attention to it."

Hesitant to write what Irish just said, Doro, looked at her eyes, tapping the other end of the pen to his cheeks.

"You were drunk? By saying that you were indeed drunk, that child you were talking about could be a complete adult or another creature. Unless you are sure or have some proof, then we can only as much as think of your words as a drunkard's statement."

~