Summary: Alfred Jones is a new detective sent to solve a cold case that was abandoned twelve years ago.; He needs to find out why Arthur Kirkland committed suicide. However, as Alfred gets drawn in further to his case, he finds himself learning that the case never went cold. And that Arthur never actually died.
Prologue
Twelve Years Before
The air was cold against Arthur's tongue, but he remained adamant on catching the snowflakes falling around him. His friends had told him that it would be a breath-taking experience to catch a snowflake, and Arthur... Well he wasn't about to stop trusting his friends.
Even if they didn't trust him.
Arthur knew that his friends weren't really friends - not exactly. Maybe at some point they had been. But not anymore - no, all of his friends had reached the jolly age of eleven and now secondary school had changed them. His friends didn't believe in fairies and unicorns like they used to. They didn't believe in magic anymore.
His friends didn't believe in magic... But it didn't really matter. It was their own mistake, Arthur knew, because they were missing out on all of the fun. The British boy didn't need those friends anyway. They whispered words like "crazy" and "nutcase" whenever they saw him.
Arthur didn't care about those old friends. Well... He did a little bit, but he liked to pretend he didn't.
He didn't care about them, just like Arthur didn't care about his siblings - or his parents.
They whispered words too. Told him that now that he was eleven he had to throw away his 'imaginary' friends. Arthur let out a sigh as he thought about this, confused as to why everyone seemed to think that his friends weren't real. Sure, the Brit wasn't that sociable, but he wasn't about to lie about having friends. Who did that?
And who were his family to tell him to throw away his friends? Real or not, it was his choice, not theirs.
His mother was constantly whispering the same word to his father, frown lines constantly apparent on her forehead. There was always a frown on her face nowadays, Arthur mused as he tried to catch more snowflakes. Especially as she whispered that word over and over again.
Schizophrenic.
Arthur knew that his mother didn't want him to hear the word, but he'd always been a good listener, and well, his mother always whispered as if she was on stage and wanted an entire crowd to hear her.
The snow had always looked so beautiful to Arthur. So pure and innocent.
For a short moment, Arthur wondered what secrets the snow hid. Perhaps one day he would learn those secrets. Learn the secrets of why the snow was so innocent...
None of the snowflakes caught on his tongue. Arthur let out a sigh. Maybe he should try again when the snow was heavier - when the clouds were kinder and shared in bigger proportions.
Arthur!
The voice sounded foreign to him - not easily distinguishable. Unheard of... Arthur had never heard the female's voice before in his life.
Arthur, come to me!
Arthur frowned. Who was this woman?
Nothing will be bad. If you come with me, you'll not get judged again. You'll have friends who won't judge you.
Eyes widening, Arthur turned to look in the direction where he'd heard the voice. His heart thumped heavily in his chest - friends! He'd have proper friends if only he was brave enough. Friend's his family would approve of!
The front door to his house opened with a slam, causing him to jump, pulled from his thoughts. His eighteen year old brother, Alastair walked down the steps of the patio. His eyes focused on his brothers.
Arthur! Quickly now - you're not safe here! You'll never be safe unless you escape!
Alastair was walking nearer to him. Was it just Arthur's imagination or did the older sibling have a malevolent gleam in his eyes?
"Hey squirt!" Alastair called, noticing his brother's attentive eyes. "What you looking at?"
Arthur! Please!
The same voice. Urgent now. Arthur stared at his brother, his feet shuffling backwards as his brother neared.
Arthur turned at the demanding tone he'd heard before.
"Where am I running to?" He asked the air - hoping that somehow the voice would guide him. The forest.
Breaking out into a sprint, Arthur headed for the forest. Each step felt like splinters in his feet. Alastair chased after him, an alarmed expression on his face. Arthur's foot caught in a branch as he reached the forest.
His knees crashed to the ground.
Arthur screamed.