The Human Storm
Introduction
Shuhei stared at the pristine white piece of paper lying on the table in front of him. It was just a simple piece of paper but it loomed menacingly in front of him. Write something. He picked up the pen, clicking it repeatedly and spastically from excessive apprehension that made him begin to sweat. Glancing up at the cop who cleared his throat in an overly loud, exaggerated manner, he slammed the pen down on the table. He rubbed his hands across his face in frustration because he did not know what to write for his statement. What happened? Hell if he knew. He wished someone could explain it to him.
"Just write down what took place last night," the burly, gruff detective with Muguruma on his plastic ID badge said. "You're only being charged with criminal mischief. So far no major charges have been brought against you."
"That's comforting," Shuhei shot back. "Where is she?"
"This mystery woman you claim is responsible for all of this? So far we haven't found your ghost. A detective is checking the mall security tapes now. Are you sure you don't know where she is, boy?" the big cop in the gray suit asked condescendingly.
"Trust me. If I knew, I would tell you," he replied, picking up the pen again. Would he? He was not sure if he really would tell the cop where she had gone, but unfortunately he was telling the truth and did not know.
Clicking the pen just once this time, he began to write:
Last night at the Black Quill, I met this girl. She had black hair with blue streaks through it. Her eyes were a dark gray color. She looked like an embodiment of the storm to come. Then she told me her name – Tempest. I should have known then that she was trouble. Here's my story.