They stepped outside and trotted down the steps of the precinct. "I've got a good feeling about this one, Gus," Shawn smirked. "And for once, Lassie didn't fight us on it."
"Uh, he didn't get the chance to because you made your charade in front of the chief," Gus countered. "And despite how stupid it looked, I think she's desperate cause she didn't hesitate to give the order."
"Desperation," Shawn sat down in the driver's seat. "That doesn't sound like the chief."
"This hasn't really been an easy case," Gus noted. Shawn nodded in agreement.
"The faster we get this son of a bitch, the sooner everyone gets to catch a break," Shawn agreed. "There could always be another case," Gus pointed out.
"Noted," Shawn grimaced, trailing the cop cars. "There could always be something else.
After a string of murders, the spiraling case came to an end. They caught the culprit and everyone went home. Shawn sighed as he dropped his keys on his nightstand. It had actually been a while since he had been in his apartment last. He had spent the last two weeks either at the Psych office, the station, or his dad's house.
He moved to the fridge to see if there was anything to eat before he hit the sack. While tossing rotting food, he heard a the sound of the mail flap on his door clatter. He peered around the corner to see a manilla envelope sitting at the base of the door.
Closing the fridge, he moved towards the door and picked up the package. No return address, and just his name. Immediately, chills ran down his back. He opened the envelope and quickly pulled out the contents. Photos fell out.
He knelt to the floor splaying all of the photos. A single note amongst the rubble. They were high quality photos. Gus cooking himself a late night snack. The jacket he wore that day was tossed on the back of one of his dining chairs. Jules was brushing her teeth while locking her doors. The same smudge of dirt was on her face from when she had taken a fall in the dash to catch the culprit. The Chief was at home, holding Lilly and talking with her husband. Lassiter was already in bed, but staring at the ceiling. Probably his nightly routine. And a photo of his dad. His dad was relaxing on his couch with the paper and the television on. Shawn snatched the note.
"Comply or they die."
Shawn had to scoff.
"Rhyming? Vague bull? What is this 'Scream'?" His phone rang, causing him to jump. He quickly snatched the phone.
"Hello Shawn," the caller greeted. "I assure you this is nothing like 'Scream'."
"What do you want?" he snapped. "Who are you?"
"Too many questions," the caller tusked. "I'd be careful or I might accidentally press the wrong button."
"What buttons?"
"Again with the questions, Shawn," the caller chided. "I assume you received gift. Are you ready to comply?"
"What do you want," Shawn repeated. "I have the right to know something." The caller sighed.
"Well, you do have that," he chuckled. "Alright, here's what's going to happen. I have a task for you. Just one, but I need you to figure it out. If you don't comply -"
"Then they die. Yes. I get it. And just how are you going to kill them?"
"You think I did this myself? Shawn, with your reputation and your record, you should know you made some enemies along the way."
"What does that mean."
"I have found many helpful … volunteers. To donate to my cause. Many people would like to see you pay for the trouble you have caused."
"So you have help and you have resources," Shawn concluded. "So why now? What's the reason for this awful timing?"
"Oh but it's perfect timing!" The caller exclaimed. "You see, I now have your undivided attention after the conclusion of your last case, but your strung out enough to do my bidding."
"Oh really?"
"You didnt think I wouldn't notice your Red Bull induced all-nighter last night? Quite the party considering you were in the middle of an investigation."
"First off, day those were Monster drinks. Second off, you're just jealous I have a stylish way of solving crime."
"Running man isn't a style trend anymore."
"You only think."
"Enough stalling! Now, you get one chance to solve the first clue to your task."
"What happens if I get it wrong?" Shawn asked.
"Oh please, like you need to be reminded of the consequences."
The phone line went dead. A moment later he received a text.
I can see you, but I can't see me. I am the windows to something deep but so small I be. The truth I scream with no mouth to speak.
-1 hour-*
Shawn hopped up to his feet gathering the photos. He paced the room thinking. He stopped is his mind reminded him if something.
"Shawn, are you destroying dolls again?" Gud demanded, slamming a doll stripped of its face except for its huge googly eyes onto Shawn's desk. He let out a small scream.
"Gus, never say strip like that again. You never know when children are present. Besides that's not even mine."
"Like in supposed to believe that."
Shawn snatched his keys and dashed out the front door. He hopped on his bike and sped over to the Psych office.
Once inside he picked up the ugly baby doll and bashed the face into the corner of his desk. The eyes immediately popped out.
"Eyes," Shawn muttered. "Windows to the soul." He cracked open one of the eyes, a piece of paper falling out.
Where what was supposed to go splat, time went back. When the face loses its hands to those of another. The choice made for one but to then save the other. It's a race to face what could have been your worst mistake.
-1 hour*
Shawn sat back on his heels, his mind reeling. His phone started to ring again. Knowing the hour, he answered the phone without a second thought. "What is this?" He demanded.
The caller laughed. "I thought you were enjoying these riddles."
"Yeah and I figure out one I get to know a clue to my 'task' but all I see is that you are just leading me from one riddle to the next," Shawn snapped.
"All in due time," the caller assured. "You shouldn't have to worry, you're already doing so well."
"Well how do I know my friends aren't already dead? You should know that if they are even touched, I will find you-"
"If you give me that cliche Liam Neeson speech, my eyes might just get stuck in the back of my head," the caller sighed.
"What he said sounds a lot better than what I had in mind," Shawn admitted. "Listen, if you really want me to complete your task, you're gonna have to up and tell me what it is you want or I am not participating."
"But you know the consequences," the caller tried.
"I know exactly what the consequences are, and if you even touch one of them, I can assure you I will stop at nothing to find you! If someone dies, you better believe I will be on your doorstep to return the favor."
He almost hung the phone up then and there. But he hesitated. And just as he was about to end the call he heard an exasperated sigh.
My, you are difficult," the caller mused. "Fine. Solve this riddle and you'll receive the instructions to your task."
"So what do I call you?" Shawn asked. "Annoying not spam caller doesn't roll off the tongue very well."
"Your Executor will do just fine." Then the call ended.
Shawn stood and paced again looking at the riddle and thinking.
"You can only save one," he remembered with a chill.
"Oh my god, Yin." Shawn exclaimed. He looked at the time. It was a little past midnight. He had 45 minutes. Quickly, he sat down at his desk and scribbled something out before tossing it haphazardly in Gus's empty wastebasket. He snatched his helmet before dashing out the door.
On the drive over, Shawn started to think. Critically. Hard. Trying to pull every scrap of learning from his dad. This man, whoever he was wanted him to suffer. Understandable. He was older, considering he had refined language and was executive to keep everyone else managed to work with him in taking Shawn down.
He had time to plan this. He must also have considerable resources. It takes more than just the promise of revenge to motivate criminals to break parole. There were many people involved.
Shawn was starting to wonder how he could contact help. He should try, but after taking account the type of surveillance this guy had on everyone, including himself, there was a high chance they would find out.
He shook his head, trying to ignore the idea of losing any one of his friends. Being dog tired and strung out really didn't help his logical processing either, as much as he was trying.
Pulling up to the clock tower, he dashed to the stairs making his way up. Bursting out onto the rooftop his was immediately caught off guard by a pair of fists that knocked him to the ground. The onslaught of beating feet came at him next, affirming his position to stay on the ground.
He groaned, rolling over. A file was dropped next to him.
"Instructions are inside. Contacting help is forbidden, just think that this is only a dose of what we can do for your friends," a gruff voice spat before the footsteps retreated and the door slammed. Shawn took a moment to catch his breath. His nose was bloody, but he was pretty sure it wasn't broken. He was most definitely going to be sore though, and many bruises to count for it.
He rolled to his knees and grasped the file. Slowly he opened it, despite his hassle to get there. He read the contents, eyes devouring every word.
"No!" He shouted, throwing the file to the ground. He even stomped on it for good measure.
His phone rang. He wordlessly answered it.
"Oh yes."
A/N: Hi! I'm back after forever. Here's my most recent writing itch. Which should be completed shortly, mainly so I can do something. I'm finally into writing(mostly), and will start updating my stories ASAP. Bear with me through this story, I just really love Psych. It'll be a couple chapters.
Ciao!
