This choice: A while later, at your apartment. • Go Back...Chapter #5A possible conspiracy. by: Unknown There was no water, which surprised you little. These pipes in this old complex received little maintenance. Rust was always the primary suspect. No problem, though; it was easy to fix.
You smacked the shower's wall hard a few times. There was a loud gurgle and water finally emerged. You stood under the spray, drenching your fur, enjoying the heat. There was, as you like to say, nothing better than a warm shower to wash your troubles away.
But today's troubles were unique. As you washed your fur with soap, it refused to leave your mind. You didn't know why you even bothered. Perhaps it was because of your many years in service that taught you to remain vigilant and ask important questions, or perhaps it was because of the strange elements present at the incident, or perhaps it was because of both those reasons.
The same question kept bothering you. Why, in a neighborhood were criminals showed no fear for the authorities, would someone conceal themselves? Perhaps he was a rooky, still new to the business and afraid of a few boys in blue.
Then why did he wear a bullet proof vest? The details of the incident were coming back more clearer into your mind. You could remember the racoon's jacket was unzipped and something like a bullet proof vest was clearly underneath.
Gang members rarely wore them. They like running unprotected into a situation. It made them feel brave.
To make things even stranger, the rifle he was using was special too. You could remember that it didn't make a loud bang like most would. Instead, it made a soft metallic noise. There was only one explanation for it: it had a silencer attached to it.
Why would a gangster take so many expensive and unnecessary precautions just to kill someone? The only conclusion you could come to was that he was some petty criminal but something more. Professional killer? Maybe...
The gun was high powered too. It had to be for it to go straight through that poor lizard and leave such a fatal wound at nearly forty feet away.
Speaking of which, the events around the lizard was strange too. As you climbed out of the shower, drying yourself off, you thought of the window that was smashed. You knew the smoke that was rising out of the hole wasn't normal.
You had been present at a few violent protests and riots, and you knew that it was most likely tear gas. And what was it that the lizard carried in his hand and injected into your body?
From here on things got a little more personal. As you got dressed in a pair of boxers, you sat down on your bed and examined your left shoulder. Pulling away your fur, you could see the tiny red dot were the strange syringe had injected the substance into your system.
Was it some kind of drug? He didn't feel strange, even though a few hours had passed. He had himself checked out by a doctor, but they found nothing strange in his body.
But why then was the lizard on the run and murdered? Why inject him with a substance that didn't work? Why, just why?
You knew all these questions that drove you to frustration would never be answered, for you the murder case was shelved amongst others that the force did not have enough time, or, frankly, too lazy, to do.
Heck, the backup you called to the scene never came, but at least they were kind enough to dispatch an ambulance to take away the corps.
To make matters worse, the killer, as expected, gave Murphy the slip. This whole incident was going to turn into a cold case, you were sure of that, leaving a lot of questions unanswered.
O well, shit happens. A kid got shot and killed before your eyes today and there was nothing you could do about that. You went to bed and went into an uneasy sleep.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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