In case you're wondering, this is a rewritten version of chapter 8. The original is no longer here.


8. Aftershock

Cream - March 20, 2036, 9:40 P.M.

It didn't take long for the police to arrive at my house. When they came, they took out my mom's skeleton out of my closet, briefly inspected and photographed it and put it in a body bag for later examination by forensics doctors. One of the detectives questioned me for details at the dining table while the others continued to investigate my room and the rest of the house.

"So let's go over this again–you said that your mother left a note saying she was out when you came back home. Correct?" He asked.

"Yes, sir…" I whimpered.

"And you didn't find her body in your closet until after somebody left this letter on your desk? Absolutely no other traces?"

"Only that letter."

"You didn't even see or smell any blood in your house prior to discovering her?"

"No… I didn't."

"And you found this letter when you came back after cleaning up the vase that fell?"

"That's correct."

The detective scratched his head as he wrote in his notepad. "This is… bizarre to say the least. Practically implausible." He said in a doubtful tone.

I tensed up. "What does that mean? That's how I found her!"

"I don't believe that you are lying to us, Miss Cream, but the details you are describing seem very unrealistic." He clarified. "Given bloody state of your mother's body, the culprit would have left bloodstains throughout the building from moving it into the closet, but your house was found to be spotless aside from the closet. He also must have remained hidden in your house hiding somewhere after the murder seeing how he left the letter behind, but you did not recall noticing anything particularly suspicious throughout the day until after you found it on your desk."

"Maybe he cleaned off the blood before I got home." I suggested.

"We thought that, too, but we couldn't find any traces of blood anywhere else in the house even with luminol testing." He countered. "The only other explanation I can come up with would be that the murder took place entirely in the closet, but that would be impossible especially since the culprit would have likely needed space to delicately skin her literally to her bone afterwards. Speaking of which, we have yet to find any tools that he could have used to carry out his deed."

I looked down at my feet, feeling even more let down. "I see… but I honestly don't know what else to say. I'm sorry, but I really don't have any more information that could help."

"That's alright. You leave this case to us, and if you uncover or recall something useful then notify us immediately."

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I will."

Another officer came into the dining room to inform us that the investigation in my house is over–they've checked everything out and didn't find any additional clues or evidence that could relate to the case. The detective asked if I could live on my own or if I needed to stay at another person's home, and I told him the former since I didn't know whose house I could stay in (I had no other relatives, either). The police wrapped things up and left.

Cream - March 21, 2036, 3:10 P.M.

I stayed home from school. I laid in my bed until afternoon, feeling tired and depressed from a lack of sleep. I was not only saddened by my mom's death but at the same time scared for my life. The message that the murderer wrote in blood meant that he was likely coming back for me. In retrospect, it wasn't smart of me to be living alone in the same house, but there wasn't anything I could really do at the time.

I heard knocking on my front door, but I didn't have the the energy to get up answer it. A minute later, my smartphone rang but I let it ring until it stopped. A voicemail subsequently came through, however. It was from Tails.

"Hey, Cream… are you okay? I, uh, I heard about what happened to your mom last night. Some kids at school were talking about it earlier." He said. "I'm so sorry for your loss… I just wanted to tell you that. I'll leave you alone now, but I'm always here for you if you need someone, okay? I'll see you later."

The voicemail ended right there. It made me feel a little better to hear his voice. I picked up my phone and thought about calling him back, but instead I sent him a text. I typed, heard your message just now. thx for telling me that. I'm glad that I had friends who cared.