01. Accusation Of Astrid Hawthorne

The officeholders were engaged in reviewing the outbreaks they dealt with for the whole month as their appointed task. Rough murmurs could be given attention over the place. The noise of chains and guns that were being positioned on metallic furniture gave a disturbing noise.

"I believe they are trying to torment us with these cases, the two of us are assigned to this task, Officer Scott. Would it be nice if we have our team with us?" The officer named Dale stretched his arms and sipped his coffee.

His colleague, Officer Scott gazed at him and strived to soothe himself. "You are right, this work is quite risky as we think it is, the culprit that we are looking for is none to be found and the traces are relatively confusing. We desperately need our crew because this issue is no joke at all. This is giving me a headache, sir." They altogether shook their heads, fixing their eyes upon the whiteboard located in the front room.

Based on their postures, they were not joyous at all. Anxiety and disturbance collide within their senses, and it gives rise to them to think vastly. "I guess we should take a rest? It's been weeks since we handled this case, we have been bothering all along," Mr. Dale asserted. His colleague simply nodded as he agreed.

"You have a point, but I believe we need to fix these sheets first. I am becoming more troubled, sir." With an anxious complexion, he momentarily paused before proceeding. "Six officials were found lifeless because of this murder case. I don't expect to find myself lying in my blood but I can't lose this grip on opportunities as well. We are digging this mystery, and it still has a bit of fun, what do you think?" Mr. Scott answered, and let out a sheepish chuckle.

They peeked at the board and deliberately twitched their heads as disappointment began to be indicated on their faces. The clues that were pinned on the whiteboard weren't sufficient for them to unravel everything. Officer Scott, the guy with red-brown hair hurled the memo pad on the floor as frustration proceeded into his body.

"Darn, what a difficult job we got here," he grumbled. He gritted his teeth and glared at the young lady, handing him a mug of tea while blankly staring at the polaroids which were hooked on the whiteboard.

Browsing every photo which was pinned on, her mind was in an uproar. Nobody would know what's inside her head, no one's capable of reading her expressions.

"Hey, kid. Are you now prepared to answer all these questions?" Mr. Dale asked, walking in the direction of the young girl with a piece of paper in his grip. He yawned as he gradually arranged the sheet on the wooden table.

It took them hours while delaying for the young lady to speak, the girl has been acting empty since she arrived. The moment they saw her, chills ran over their spines. She's into traumatic events and that's what they thought. She appeared to be resisting eye contact with them, she remained speechless for the extensive hour while sitting on the metal stool. By merely looking at her face, she appears to stand naive to be a criminal.

As if they were in a maze, their impressions are baffled, thinking how could someone blame an innocent woman for committing a murder.

Yet there is a past that they need to unfold. It remains as a huge mystery to unravel within their cities.

Six years heretofore, an unsolved case occurred, committed by an unidentified murderer. Thirteen men were found lifeless every week, which compels to be frightening in the view of a fact of what manner the killer has done upon ending their existence.

The murderer broke off a hint on the victim's corpse, the similar patterns to be examined were visible to the lifeless prey, their covering being coated with a black tuxedo and a red polo shirt underneath. Pairing it with black slacks and black shoes perfectly fit the victims and bound with their branches nailed, the martyrs appear to be likened to a toy, particularly a doll.

Based on the analysis, there exist no fingerprints set up on the apparel that the corpse had worn, even on the items which were involved in the crime scene. The patterns on the sufferers' left wrist and neck snatched their attention. An intense metallic blade brought out injury which caused a deep wound, it simply annihilates the person instantly out of blood loss.

The outbreak left a tremendous paradox forthwith. The authorities did what they could to preserve peace in each district of the isle because they found it exceedingly overwhelming to inspect more proof. It is troublesome to pursue the murderer, as the authorities comprehended that the culprit mastered it, planning every trick he brought in.

They attempted to assess every crime settings which occurred within that six years with similar murder patterns. The administrators interrogated it within those years and they glimpsed something. The killing patterns partly are alike, but some of the corpses are being found with an unusual look. Founded on their outcomes, there is more than one criminal that hides behind their silhouettes... or perhaps not.

They are deeply stunned by how the murderer playfully tosses tricks on them, they are certain that the fugitive is in his 30s or 40s. It's excessively ridiculous to assume that a young lady would do the killing. As for the detectives, the cases were strange and fascinating at the same time, indeed the culprit reveals how flexible he can be.

Dusk approached and a woman in her 40's got on to the police station and reported something unimaginable yet suspicious. Notifying everybody about her sixteen years old son, murdered and found uneventful. Accusing the inexperienced lady whom she found to be her son's close friend in the neighborhood.

She reveals six varied polaroids to the officeholder. A snapshot of a dude, and in each polaroid, it could be seen that it was taken secretly while he was actively doing stuff he cares for.

The cops threw questions on the young girl and soon found that at the age of 20, she lived independently in her home at the division of Cassinfield and she is known to be Astrid Hawthorne. Based on their interview, and after a short inquiry, the teenager appears to be fond of toys, particularly figurines, puppets, or dolls. They toured the building and confirmed it to be true.

The house appears to be dull and dire, terrifying beauties were all over the places and rooms. Moreover, she filled her bedroom with polaroids pinned on the walls as a web of strings were on it, the shots seemed to be attached attending the strings. Nevertheless, that would not make her a killer.

The rest of the neighborhood said that Astrid Hawthorne has undergone a mental illness because of an abrupt experience that builds harm in her. They infer that she is mentally sick and she is harmless.

Hawthorne, taken to the Police Department a lot of times as a consequence of the indictments she went through. Examining the background is already proven by the administrators. Unfortunately, they haven't established anything that would assist everybody's theories and hints. Her experience seems to be not suspicious at all but if you observed her entertainment, you could say that there is something with her that would make you believe that she is not like those typical young ladies.

Her place comes out to be outdated and emptied. It was said that the house was not owned by her. A home occupied by a family which formerly had thirteen sons. The household vanished and left to be unknown as years passed by. Now that the authorities had found out about the missing case of a certain family, they perceived that the division kept it private considering they did not report anything about it six years ago. It is questionable because many believe that the lost family migrates to another country.

There are bunches of evidence left and discovered. But it will never be acceptable for them to charge the girl. Glancing at her form, the killing will never be her aspect. Vulnerable and exhausted—dark eye bags were visible under her eyes. The officials were hesitating to have a chat with her, and so they stayed silent for a while. They sighed in relief when the old woman drove home and left it all to them.

A furious senior bitterly wished to file a case against the naive young lady but the officers could not look for any proof against Astrid Hawthorne, they could not find anything to detain her. They were forced to ask the old woman to take her to leave for them to have enough time to concentrate.

"Sir, in my observation, she appears to be suspicious," The guy with dark gray hair—Mr. Dale uttered and stared at the young woman for a moment. He scratched his nape and slowly shook his head, shifting his gaze into his phone.

"This issue is getting on my nerves. Let's not make it impossible, it is obvious that she is innocent," Mr. Scott retorted, defending the woman due to the heaviness he felt upon the stress that coated them.

They both shrugged their shoulders and sat on the stools. They keep on glancing at the young woman from time to time, guessing if perhaps they can let her leave presently.

"You know what, Mr. Dale... We should drive her home since it's getting late. Let's ask for her viewpoints the next time around. I don't really like this case we are handling." They seemed worn and bored, their job is not easy. It takes a lot of responsibilities and they are aware of that.

His colleague nodded and positioned his gaze towards her. "Hey, young woman. You look weary, come on. Let's bring you home, you badly need sleep, I mean just look at you," After saying those words, she gradually set her eyes on him and smiled shyly.

Yet still her expressions could not be graze. She is like an abstract paint which plainly screams every negative emotions that could ever exist, yet it could not be found to be confirmed for her face appears to be lifeless.

She opened her mouth and let her few words escaped, "... Please, believe me, sir. I am innocent, I didn't kill Kobe Ethan. I was the one who reported what had happened, I told his mother about his unexpected death, but she never believed in me." She almost whispered as she wandered her gaze to the entire office. Anxiety could be seen from her stares, after the accusation that she went through, she felt the burden. She is starting to feel unsafe about her surroundings.

"I wanna go home." Her final words caused the two officials to be stunned for a minute as their sights broadened out of fright when she commenced sobbing. Uneasiness began to emeine on their countenances, believing that they made a beautiful young lady cry.

"Yes. Of course, we will drive you home." Mr. Dale immediately stood up and gently pulled her arm. He gave his partner a signal to ready the car outside. They took off and rode in the police car and drove her home.

On the road to the district, she stares at the dark road, admiring the dullness of the street and thoughts are fleeing inside her mind—turmoil, resentment, and laments. No one dared to speak as they waited for the car to stop in front of a huge gate.

"Thank you, officers." They bid their farewell and left her outside the gate as soon as they arrived. She waved her hand in a nice gesture and went ahead off the street with an unusual grin.

"It feels so cold tonight, I wonder if I am even allowed to make a fire?" She muttered and chuckled.