Starting from a short video that played through all electronics that had a screen, a mass psychotic breakdown, to a local report of 99 people dying in their sleep, and to a case of butchering where a college student, male, was last seen from a park then to an abandoned lot with his skin harvested and folded, his hair plucked and arranged, and his bones broken and sorted like it’s waiting for a flat lay photo… Someone’s bound to have it investigated. 

I’m one of those people who were tasked to do so. I’m one of the few who remained. I’m one of the handfuls who had little to no time left. 

I’m following a tip, which was also given to the police. I’d like to hope that she’s in a better place now, but what she gave us was a dead-end. She claimed she saw the victim talking to an old man who was sorting out leaves by the bench. I asked around, naturally. It was a bit awkward at first since I had to take note of what I would say to these people, but I managed. 

The victim was alone the whole time. 

I got by and accessed the security cameras. I’ve had three angles to work with, and some cues show that he was talking to someone. She was right. Her reports were, I’d say, accurate, save for the bearded old man she claimed she saw.  People would stop, inspect, and laugh at an empty bench before the victim entered the scene. He was talking to someone, however, that was the end of it. I do believe that I’m great at what I do, but it seems that it would prove to be quite challenging to find a man that doesn’t exist. That’s why I’m working on the man that does and it brought me to a convenience store. 

“Hi, Mr. Cruz,” I said, smiling as I trailed the packs of 3 in 1 coffee lined in the aisle. “You can call me Jeff, a private investigator.” I showed him my trembling fingers, causing him to flinch. “I don’t have a lot of time, you see. Do you have a moment?” 

He stepped back, flashing me a stern look without a hint of fear. “Are you here to arrest me?” 

“No, I’m not.” 

He’s changed. I did my best not to laugh. He’s fairly tall. His complexion seemed fine for a shut-in, but his face was well kept; he might’ve turned a new leaf for real. His eyes were trembling a bit. I don’t know if it was the pandemic or he’s just overly shy. He looks proper, with a bit of confidence leaking out like the type of person that peaked in high school and dived to rock bottom right after graduation. 

“I’ve already told the authorities everything.”

I saw something. Anyway, he’s smart and doubtful, too. I tried to welcome his second thoughts with a polite smile and nodded. I laughed it off a little, too, to make it seem a little friendly and it worked. His expression softened. He relaxed his shoulders and lowered his chin. Great. 

“I know. The report that they made was quite detailed. Someone recorded a video, too,” his expression darkened, so I lowered my voice, making myself sound more empathetic. “I’m saddened. I know that it was hard for you to turn yourself clean and claim that you’re responsible for those 99 deaths, among others and I can only imagine how painful it is to get denied.” I tapped his shoulder and sniffled for good measure. “I want to know what made you do it.” 

He trembled. “What made me… do it?” 

I nodded slowly in affirmation. “Yes, I need to understand what happened. I’ve seen that place, too, and it’s getting to me. I don’t have much time left.” 

“It was regret,” he chuckled. “because I did it for a wish. I’ve killed people. I’ve fought them. I fought against a man who had telekinetic powers and could rain rocks like its nothing. I shot him in his left shoulder and ran. I’ve seen someone who killed people by winking at them. There was this girl who could shoot a cannon blast from a pistol. Cabbages…” He clenched his fists and looked to me straight, carrying this strained helpless smile. “Cabbages… I’ve seen this man turn people into cabbages by screaming ‘yeet.’ He fought others too, which eventually had him face someone like a friend and they had an argument. We were the last ones left and after the friend killed that cabbage man, I blew his brains out and won me that wish.” 

I wanted to laugh, but his sunken face was determined. I found it hard to trust his words. Seriously. I could believe the telekinesis and all that, but cabbages? There were no lies from the way he told me these things, and I’d like to know the grain of truth behind it. There must be something, and besides, I can’t break my character yet. 

“You’ve told me about cases of murder, the violent kind, but… why are you taking the blame for it? If not, then the only grounds, if proven, that I could have you arrested for was when you shot a stranger and killed just one. Then—”

“Because,” he interrupted. “I had the choice to revive them all.”

My brows furrowed and I swallowed, almost breaking my character. It was put to the test when he embraced himself and laughed. I was thankful that no one else was inside the convenience store, but I stood my ground and said nothing. He heaved peals upon peals of laughter, soon sounding like a maniacal orchestra, a torrent of breaths upon breaths upon breaths that ended not more than a high-pitched whisper. He continued, opening his mouth wide, drooling as he took breaks that made me notice the tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Then he stopped. Like there was a switch the flipped, he blinked and became stern, making me feel this unusual anxious-bearing coldness as I watched him straighten his back and wipe his face clean with a towel. 

“I had a choice to revive them all.” He grinned. “I had a choice to undo all the things that happened and make people forget what happened to that mall, but I did it for a movie sequel to make fun of furries.” 

“I… I see…” 

In that instant, it clicked and I realized what that place was. I gulped. I know what happened. I want to kill him. He needs to be arrested—no, he needs to be stripped down. I want to peel his skin with a spoon and sprinkle salt over his wounds to make him scream. I want to chop his body, scatter it around the neighborhood to make the others play a better version of where’s waldo, and once everything has been gathered, I’d burn them all to make a massive bonfire and celebrate. Everyone would know. Everyone would shout in joy. It’s his fault. Nothing would mourn his death. I… 

I want him to see this through. I want him to see what he had done. I want him to realize what happened because of that dumb choice. That… that’s the best punishment I could give. He doesn’t need to die. He needs to suffer. He needs to see everything till the end. I don’t know what I looked like at this moment, but I know that this piece of trash now realizes what I mean. He didn’t even need to run. He was aware of it, and he welcomed me with this sad smile. 

“It seems you’ve understood, too.” He looked at me with a helpless grin and opened his arms like he was waiting for an embrace. “Are you not going to beat me up?”  

“You deserve something much worse.” I declared; there’s no need to keep up appearances anymore. “I can’t let you go.” 

“I’ve probably killed people with reasons that you could never blame,” he replied, lowering his arms to surrender himself. “I’ve been poor. I’ve made bad decisions. It made me think quite highly of myself and blame others. I am that person, but it’s not entirely my fault. It just shows how selfish we are, and here you are, probably trying to kill me for something that you can’t even prove. I got that chance, took the shot, and won, but I wasted it because I thought I was that special. That’s what I’ve understood from that game, and that’s why I went out of my room and started to work for the better. I don’t deserve anything just by being born in a specific time in a place, within a specific family, and in a specific quality of life. But,” he grinned, somewhat begging. “if I were to ask for your kindness, would you do it?” 

I instinctively reached for the gun at my side. I don’t even need to aim. No one would blame me. No one would beg for the life of this piece of shit in front of me. It’s just one bullet. All I need to do is to pull the trigger once and he’d be dead… and happy. 

I might’ve misunderstood something. 

I know what to do now. 

I dusted my clothes, took off my hand from my pistol, turned my back on him, and sighed. I don’t need to see his face anymore. I know exactly who he is now. I know what happened. I know what needs to be done. I know how to express it. I know how to explain it. I just can’t. 

“You’re right. Nothing would come good from people getting what they think they deserve,” I muttered as I walked out of that convenience store.