Chapter Text
The teenager had always been described as ghostly, with the palest skin and the oddly white-blonde hair, but this? This was ridiculous.
High school was hellish enough, and that was without being followed around by the former being of an overly powerful bully. It was after the biggest night of the season, and he was supposed to be on his way home now. He was not supposed to be spending his evening in the boys’ bathroom, fumbling with the lock on the toilet stall while trying to keep himself upright. All he could hear was the chant of his name. Not having a voice never really bothered him. He had the text to speech option on his phone and that was good enough for him, but right now, he wished he had that power, to scream for help. He knew it likely wasn’t gonna work anyway, with or without a voice of reason. All he could hope was that he wasn’t found, that the classic tucking his knees up on the toilet seat would hide him long enough.
Damn those fucking crutches, though.
His hand still on the toilet lock, trying to get it closed, he found himself confronted with the one person he’d been running from all night. Tucked away in the back of the stall, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
“Don’t worry. Someone can hear what you’re saying, and that’s me. But don’t you worry, I’ll take real good care of ya…”
With that, a hand grabbed his hair and slammed his head against the wall of the cubicle, and everything went black.
“And so you’re telling me that the janitor found the kid in the toilet cubicle this morning and there had been no missing people’s reports about him?” asked a man with short black hair wearing a black leather jacket, a black shirt and black pants. He looked to the man before him, who’d reported the dead body, and with no reply, sighed. “Well thank you for your help, we’ll take this from here.” He let the man go before standing at the door frame. “Hey? Marksmen? Come and get a load of this.”
The man in question, Detective Marksmen, turned around, heading into the scene of the crime. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, tucking it neatly into the cap as he looked down at the scene. “Saskatchewan’s finest, hey? Right then, what we dealing with?”
A much younger detective, a female with long blonde hair, flipped open her notepad. “The janitor found the body this morning. An 18 year old male victim by the name of-“
“Typical. It’s just like home.” Marksmen pinched the bridge of his nose. “We leave home cuz of the blood and guts and what do ya know? We get ‘em twice as bad here. Bennet, what’s the estimated time of death?”
“Around 8 PM Friday night.” She said, looking up to her superiors. “Multiple lacerations of the head and chest, then finished the job by drowning him in the toilet, so it appears.” She gestured to the corpse, who was still face down in the toilet bowl.
“Well, I’m losing the fucking coffee this morning…He was found in the toilet, what a way to go.”
“And that’s not all either.” Bennet stepped aside to reveal a message written in blood on the left wall of the toilet cubicle. She stepped behind the two men as they examined it.
After moments of silence, the cop with black hair spoke. “…Nerdy prudes must die? Is this some kinda joke? We get called out to some sort of sick and twisted game just for the message left behind to be nerdy prudes must die?!”
“Wickham, calm down.” Marksmen put a hand on Wickham’s shoulder as Bennet spoke up again.
“It was that girl a couple weeks ago and now this…hey. You think they’re connected?”
“I don’t know, Bennet. Do crows shit in the woods?”
Wickham watched as Marksmen turned around, heading out of the cubicle. He carefully took Bennet’s hand and exited. “Hey! We’re small town cops! We came from an island of crime, and now we gotta deal with some sick murder mystery?! We’re a little out of our depth here, Jack!”
“It happens.” Marksmen turned around and looked at them. “But we are police officers and a kid died. It’s now up to us to find out how the hell this happened. Understood?” Watching the two nod slowly, he looked them up and down. “That’s what I thought. Now we have to go back to the station and see if there are any witnesses for us…and it’s not even 9 AM.”
But little did they know that waiting for them, just around the corner, was going to be the scare of a lifetime…