Chapter 1: Fellas, I Swear It Wasn’t Me

He slams his fists on the table causing me to flinch. Sweat flew at tangents from his wrinkled forehead and furrowed eyebrows. He wore a black polo shirt a size too small. It's so tight that it put all his muscles on display, almost as if trying to intimidate me. The room was made to make you feel more uncomfortable than you've ever been. A faint smell of dried blood filled the air airing an ominous vibe. 

"We know it's you. There's no point in stalling, just confess." His umber orbs stared down my soul. A deep scar spanning across his right cheek to the corner of his lips made his threatening demeanor much more terrifying. 

All I know is that I'm a suspect of a murder case, how they came to the conclusion was a mystery to me. I've never even been around a real crime scene let alone commit one.

"I'm talking to you here." He waves his fingers in front of my eyes. "Don't try to play the insanity card, we know you're sound of mind." he glowered.

Insanity card? This guy is the one who's out of it. I just zoned out because everything was happening too fast. It's not an everyday thing where you're put in handcuffs, and dragged outside of your local grocery store. Then thrown into an interrogation room where two people is standing in front of you trying to force you to confess. It's just like I am the protagonist in a movie where I'm wrongly accused of murder and I run away until I can prove my own innocence. Like in 'The Fugitive'. Only worse, I don't even know who's murder case I'm being accused of.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I never murdered anyone." I answered, shaking my head. My hand was starting to tremble. If this is a dream it would be the weirdest dream I've had in a while. Ever since the dream where I argued with my dog, Oreo, about the new toy I brought him and how he doesn't like it and then he threatened to leave the house... Nothing topped it since. Leon wouldn't stop laughing at me for days. Just looking at my face he'd remember that and almost choke from laughter. To this day he'd randomly remember and then he'd laugh like a maniac.

I blinked, my mind reluctantly returning from the whimsical labyrinth of a dream that had taken me far from this tense interrogation room. Detective Cains's penetrating gaze seemed to probe deeper, while Rains's silent, intimidating presence made the atmosphere feel even more claustrophobic.

The silence that followed my denial was so profound that I could hear their breathing. Cain's menacing stare seemed to stretch endlessly, punctuated only by the faint sound of his fingers drumming impatiently on the table. Each tap echoed through the room like warning bells, underscoring the latent violence simmering beneath his barely controlled exterior. His face contorted into a disdainful grimace. "You're a psychopath, huh? Only a psycho can have such an innocent look and zone out like that because they don't feel an ounce of remorse." His creased brows complimented the mixture of anger and bewilderment in his eyes. "Do you even realize what you've done is wrong?" 

Finally, the woman standing quietly behind him stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Cain's shoulder, "I'm Detective Rain and he's Detective Cain. And no we're not siblings." she broke her silence pulling back a little so he'd calm him down. I would laugh at that lame joke — if it was even meant to be a joke in the first place but I didn't. I'm scared. All I do is rot in my room writing, eating, or sleeping. I didn't do anything. Why am I being questioned? 

Cain crosses his arms and breaks eye contact with me. "You think it's time for jokes? I doubt you'll make it as a detective." he chided, eyeing her with derision. 

She gave him a curt, sidelong glance, then swiftly opened the folder in her arms, pulling out a document with a fluid, practiced motion. "Are you familiar with this book?" She slides 'A Symphony of Murder' on the table.

I nod my head. What are these dumb questions? I'm very familiar with this book. I mean I wrote it. I know they know that. "Yes." I answer with a raised brow.

Cain crosses his arms; the frown on his face turns into a sneer as if he'd just solved the greatest mystery of all time.

"That means you're the killer."