Chapter Text
(TW: Blood, murder, mentions of cannibalism)
Sven found himself parking in front of his old highschool, reminding him of his younger days. Running around with his friends, doing whatever they hell they wanted; whether that be getting drunk, or smoking. The memories that warmed his heart immediately sent a chill through him, leaving a sour taste in his mouth when looking at the murder they had on their hands.
L’Manberg’s rules and regulations were extremely blurry and left questions of what was morally good and what was legal. You would think a city would have rules like don’t do drugs or don’t kill people, and there were, but due to the lack of full law enforcement and the high crime rate, no one really cared anymore (unless it was a serial killer or something of the sort, but something like that was mostly rare). How else would you think someone with a record like Sven could be a warden and half-retired homicide detective?
Sven should’ve been desensitized to it at this point. He’d been doing this since age 17. He’d only taken an about a year+-long ‘break’ to work on the security systems of the newly built prison, yet there he was, in front of his old highschool, with one of his old teachers gruesomely murdered.
“Welcome back,” He heard his old partner say, passing him a coffee. Deaf Creeper, an interesting guy. They had been pretty close Sven's whole life and stayed in touch throughout his year as a warden. The guy was extremely good with computers, even helping develop the prison along with Sven. He was a detective though—a good one, sure—but he wasn’t as good at it as he was with computer work.
“Why am I here? I’m retired,” Sven said, quickly losing his temper and snapping at Deaf, before realizing what he’d said. “Not that I don’t want to work with you again, but from what I was told, I’m not supposed to be here.” Deaf sighed and sipped his coffee. The coffee in Sven’s hands felt like ice compared to the cold air around him. “First, because this is at our highschool, this is a teacher you had. Second, we have a serial killer on our hands.”
Sven felt like he was gonna throw up as they walked under the yellow tape. Sven quickly noticed news reporters and spectators starting to show up. It was probably pretty surprising he was back, working on a case, considering what he’s going to be doing in a matter of months.
“Daneil Pandora, just turned 46,” Deaf said, still sipping his coffee, “A homeless man found him at 4 A.M..” Sven noticed the man had two straight lines slicing his arms, there were 3 roses in his mouth, causing him to be hit by another wave of nausea. “The- the lines on his arms, the roses, they’re like-” Deaf nodded, almost sadly. “But he’s imprisoned! He’s about to be executed in a few months and everything!”
“That’s why we called you in, this is the 3rd body like this in a week. We originally thought a student finally just went off on him but then we saw the roses and slices.” “The others?” Deaf, looked away for a second but Sven could tell what he was referencing. “Detective Shiratori!?” Sven dropped his coffee. It splashed dangerously close to the body, which he was sure the medical examiner team would scold him for. He didn’t care. He felt like his legs were going to give out. “And a drug dealer but yes.”
Detective Shiratori was famously known for bringing down the cannibal, murderer and prison escapist Mythrodak, who (when he didn’t eat the victim) was known for leaving victims with slices in their arms, two to be exact and then a certain number of orange roses. Shiratori was a pacifist at heart. Sven had met him twice. You’d think he wouldn’t be able to kill a fly, but yet he was renowned for bringing justice. Sven hadn’t been on the force for more than a year when they got a tip about Mythrodak.
He was still barely an intern and was partnered with Deaf. He remembered being horrified, thinking about how this guy was a bit younger than Sven and had already killed more than 38 people. He remembered Deaf and him sitting with the other interns and police, Deaf and Sven had already known about the horrible things Mythrodak had done when they were on the streets, fearing they would be next. Everyone was praying that Shiratori wasn’t dead by the end of the night, waiting for the call.
Detective Shiratori didn’t die that night. The complete opposite, actually. He arrived with the serial killer in good spirits, explaining that the boy had surrendered, that he hadn’t hurt him. The prison (named The Abyss ) in which Sven was a warden at houses Mythrodak. They had met a few times. Every time, Mythrodak seemed to be on his best behavior, maybe a little deranged, but on his best behavior. It was also well known that Shiratori came to be with him lots, the two seemed to be ‘friends’. Now he was dead, the same way Mythrodak would kill someone. The irony dried Sven’s mouth, he regretted dropping the coffee.
“Why would someone kill Shiratori? Mythrodak didn’t hate him, they were actual friends. We can rule out the idea that someone is working for him at least,” Sven said, adrenaline pumping into his veins. “Mr. Pandora was a strict teacher. People would say his class was a prison, I’m sure you can remember.” Deaf smiled sadly. He had (thankfully) not been stuck in his advanced math class, instead taking computer programming during that period. He had purposefully lowered his math grade so he wouldn’t be in it.
“Apparently, he went missing about 3 days ago, his wife called the police and they put a report up yesterday. The number of roses even matches with the current number of victims ''So right after they released an official report, the killer let them know the truth… did it come with some sort of note?” Sven asked, knowing the answer considering that Mythrodak had always left a note. Deaf nodded slowly. “I’ll show you when we get to the station, but first, injuries and cause of death.”
They got closer to the body, Deaf grabbed a clipboard from one of the medical personnel and read from the list. “Supposedly, he’s been dead for 10 hours, though we need confirmation. Other than the slices, he has bruises on his neck, showing that he was choked,” Deaf points to the large dark spots on his neck. “He also had bruises on his arms and wrists, probably signs of resistance.”
Sven spaced out slightly, his brain was thinking multiple things at the same time, he at least didn’t want to throw up anymore. “You okay?” Deaf said. Sven snapped back to reality. “Yeah, yeah, just thinking. Can we go back to the station? I really want to see the note.” Deaf nodded, knowing in his eyes as they went to their separate cars.