The murder of Damon Michelle

Last night was the most horrible and eventful night ever. I'd dressed the wound before going to sleep but I couldn't get even an ounce of sleep because of the stinging pain from the wound. I just kept tossing and turning on the bed restlessly. The very comfortable bed seemed like the most uncomfortable for me.  

Soon, my eyelids felt heavy and I forced myself to sleep. All the running had left me tired and worn out. 

*Next morning*

I woke up to the familiar chirping of the birds and for once felt blessed to be surrounded by such beauty. I stretched my arms to wipe the grogginess away. The smile I had earlier was replaced by disdain when I felt blood oozing out of the dressing around my wounded arm.

"Ugh, the wound's open." I winced as I clutched the wound tightly with my other hand and got up from the bed. 

I was about to go change the dressing, when—

*ding dong*

The doorbell rang. I turned away from the bathroom and walked towards the door. I peered into the peephole and noticed Hazel waiting outside. 

"Another friendly visit?" I smiled as I opened the door, the blood still trickling down my arm.

Her usual cheerfulness dissipated as soon as her eyes caught the sight of the deep wound on my arm and concern covered her face.

"Oh god, how did this happen?!" She grasped my arm and examined the wound.   

"I-Its nothing..really..." I tried to assure her— which was obviously not going to work.

"How did it happen? Did Sam and the others do this to you?" She asked. I could see in her face how dearly she wished to do worse to them.

"No. They didn't do anything to me. It was someone else...." My voice trailed off. 

"Then who was it?" She asked in 

confusion.

"The one who was on the news recently." I stared at my wound and the memories of the last night came flooding into my mind. 

"What?! When did this happen?" 

"Last night." 

"Why didn't you tell me back then?" 

"Wouldn't have made any difference."

I explained her the entire story in detail. She just stared at me, transfixed with shock and panic.

"I'll call the police right now. This is insane." Her hands were trembling in fear as she slipped the phone out of her pocket and began dialing.

"No!" I yelled and grabbed her arm to stop her. "If you call the cops, he WILL kill me. It would be suicide to do that." 

She stopped and realised what the consequences could be. She lowered her head in thought for a while and replied, "Alright, fine. But he'll come for you regardless of whether you involve the cops or not since you're a witness to his murders. Under this circumstance, why would anyone wait to be murdered instead of seeking help from the cops?" 

She did have a good point, but I knew the consequences of calling help would be worse.

"If I call the cops now, it would be on the news and then it will be easier for him to find me. Not only just that, him coming here will put everyone at the orphanage in danger." I reasoned with her.

"But-!" 

"No buts. I'll just have to be more careful from now on. This will be a secret between us, okay? Don't tell about it to anyone— not even the director. He'll definitely call the cops and also...we can't be sure of who's the murderer and who's innocent. " I warned her.  

But it didn't seem like she was on the same page as me. 

"Please." I pleaded.

She sighed in response and nodded after pondering about it for a few seconds. "You're insane.... you're doing this for those people who treated you like garbage." 

Even after telling her my choice, she kept persuading to change my decision. 

"I am doing it for you and Mr. Ryan, too." I assured her.

"If that's your choice then I'll do my best to help you in anyway." She forced a weak smile. 

I smiled back at her in gratitude, "Thanks." 

Later that day, I hadn't encountered anything strange except for the fact that almost everyone in Blueburn kept talking how the victims had their organs missing.

 I went to my part time job a bit late but couldn't find the manager to scold me. It was quite unusual for him to miss a day at job. He was always the most punctual and kindest to the customers even if it wasn't the case with the staff. 

"I wonder if he's sick." I thought as I decided to ask my co-workers. 

"Who knows? Maybe Damon's not well."

"It might be an emergency."

"Whatever it is, atleast we're spared from his lectures!" 

They joked around and didn't take it seriously. I shrugged and shook it off, thinking that it was just a minor deal.

The day was very long and tiring. Right after I returned home, I took out a glass of lemonade from the fridge and started gulping it down as I sat on the couch to see the recent news of the murders, if any. 

And I was right. I braced myself to know how he murdered them this time.

 " Damon Michelle, a new victim to the unnatural murders found dead in his house at 5pm after he came home from a visit to his family. The last two murders proved that the victims were injected with a substance that'd made them go berserk and unfortunately, shred their own flesh into pieces. The same substance was found inside Damon Michelle's body who had the same unfortunate fate. Further research on the substance proved that it takes approximately an hour to show it's full effect and the person injected with it would have killed anyone near him, too." said the news reporter.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. A chill ran down my spine when I realised how he'd created his little game. His plan to kill me was a full-proof plan. I could feel the anxiety bubbling in my throat.

He knew—he knew that I worked in that coffee shop. He thought that the manager would be coming to work that day and decided to inject him with that. And when he comes to work, he would have killed me and the blame would have been put on him. But the question still remains : when and how did he inject it into Damon?