Hey, I'm back! I know it's still not I Insist, and I really am sorry. But for some reason I've become embarrassingly obsessed with the Professor Layton series as of late, especially this game. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they made a sequel?
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He was horrified.
The sight in front of him was a gruesome one, and he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't know how it happened.
The blood began to soak into his shoes as the purple bruises around her neck became more visible.
Her skin almost seemed to shrink like leather as he processed the events which must have occurred.
He vaguely recalled working on a case with Lucy in the Mystery Room. They had been observing the Crime Scene Reconstruction Device when she had asked if he was alright. Confused, he had asked what she meant.
She'd replied by saying that he looked a bit off, and, irked, he had brushed her off.
It was obvious she was concerned for him, and continued to pester him.
Although it was true that he hadn't slept for but an hour the night before at his desk, he had gotten a couple of hours in the nights before and preferred to spend his time getting caught up on the pile of cases they had yet to solve.
Unconvinced, she had relentlessly pounded him with questions and concerns until he had been overcome with a blinding headache as his darker side seized control of his body.
And although he possessed no memory of what occurred next, he could say with 100% certainty what events had transpired next.
Around her neck remained evidence of a firm grasp by hands the exact size his were, and her left arm was bent at a grotesque angle halfway along her forearm.
Her head bled profusely where it had been smashed repeatedly against the desk, both her forehead and the back of her head.
She had scratches along the side of her face and her arm, where blood ran along to join the growing puddles at his feet.
To top it all off, his hands and lab coat were covered in blood, and his fingernails had more caked underneath them. There were streaks of red along the arms of his coat where she had evidently tried to fight back.
Horrified, he couldn't bring himself to look away as he felt his lunch attempting to make a reappearance.
He stumbled away from her body, and nearly fell when his thighs met with the arm of a chair.
He began to sob as he reached numbly behind him, fumbling for the weapon that would have been just out of Lucy's reach as he attacked her.
He couldn't bring himself to hope for salvation as he brought his shaking hand up, and placed the gun against his temple.
He muttered a brief 'sorry' as his finger found and pulled the trigger.
They would find them later, Lucy's mangled corpse across from his, her body surrounded by a pool of blood. His burgundy hair dyed crimson with his own blood, chunks of grey matter scattered across the floor and walls.
The Mystery Room would then be shut down for good.