Flight

“Hello? Detective? We have a problem.”

“What?” I asked.

“Well… A man just confessed to murder.”

“So? Alert the victim’s family and schedule a trial.”

“That’s the problem, Ma’am. We don’t know who the victim is.”

“What do you mean you don’t know who the victim is?” I exclaimed. “I thought you just said he confessed!”

“He did. He showed up in the building this morning and said, ‘I just killed a girl,” but he says he doesn’t know who she was.”

“Well, what did she look like?”

There was a brief pause while the person on the other end of the phone asked some questions of the people around them. “She wore a dark cloak,” they said at last. “According to him he couldn’t see anything of her face.”

I sighed. “I’ll be over to talk to him as soon as I can.”

“He left, Ma’am.”

“What?”

“The murderer. He escaped shortly after confessing.”

This time I was sure my neighbor in the next office over could hear my shocked, outraged cry.

My name is Flight Dienvilde, and I am the Mordium Police Department’s best detective. Which is why I’m assigned all the strange, difficult, and often impossible cases. Such as the one that would change my life. The case of the nameless, faceless dead girl.

Raze

I was running through the woods. I had just gotten out of Mordium, after confessing to the murder of a girl whose name I didn’t even know. I supposed it didn’t matter, though. A corpse is a corpse, and the girl was definitely dead. 

In my head I called her Blank. She was the missing piece, the last bit of the puzzle. And now everything was falling into place. But first I had to get as far from Mordium as I could before I was detained for murder. I had left the body in the middle of the street. Someone would find it soon, and someone would be able to identify the girl.

No one was following me yet. I probably didn’t need to run. No one would be able to track me. No one else knew my roots. But at the same time, I needed to get far, far, away. Somewhere where no one would be able to find me while I sorted through all the pieces and found my answer.

My name is Raze Artian, and I am not the cruel, perverted murderer of your history books. But I’m still a murderer. And to most people, that’s the only thing that really counts anyways.

Eerie

In the books they always describe waking up to a blurry world, slowly coming into focus. That’s not what happens. No, I awoke in an instant. Mordium and all its neon monochromes stretched on before me, all brilliant electric lights and dark, dimly lit alleys.

I got shakily to my feet, leaning against the concrete wall of a nameless building.

“Are you alright, Miss?” someone asked. They were clearly a kid, but the world was spinning and I could not tell more than that.

“I will be,” I managed, spitting a mouthful of black blood onto the sidewalk. Black blood like death and corruption.

“Can I help you?” the kid pressed.

“No!” I snarled, more aggressive than I meant to be. Darkness crackled on my fingertips. The kid cast me a frightened glance before sprinting off down the street.

I placed a hand over my heart. No pulse. I smiled slowly to myself, finally finding the strength to stand without leaning against any walls.

“Oh Eerie,” I whispered to myself. “What have you done?”

But I knew exactly what, and I did not regret it. It was not going to be all it was cut out to be. 

It was going to be more.

My name is Eerie Alleria. I professionally study the illegal lore that the Mordian government tried to keep under wraps. I am Faceless. I am the first, and the last, of the Reborn.