"Morgan, are you listening?" That deep monotone voice shudders through the dark room, lit only by the projection on the white pull-down screen.
That echo of voice left a crawl inside the detective's skin causing him to snap back into reality, "Yes-! Yes Sir, I was just... Distracted- I'm Sorry."
"Right." The elite man hovered over each and every member that was in the room, asserting a powerful gaze on each worrying soul.
'I need to sleep, I don't know anything about this anyway.' Morgan thinks to himself just as his director's words were passing over him like a foggy sound that just bounces off the cold room walls. Upon hearing his name called, he snaps back into place in an instant.
"Morgan, I need you to find whatever you can about the Sage Vulcan Cult, do what you can to find a way to get as close as possible to finding where they will go next, and where they will be the longest, we need to get rid of those—'threats' to our society."
"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Connell was trembling as this is their and his, first big project, the Police department has been investigating these murders for a while, bodies found without clues left behind, mysterious cult symbolism, the Police were chasing ghosts at that point, and this is when they finally decide to assign their detective roster to work on different parts of the case, their first suspicion being the local cult known for practice of witchcraft and making charms to ward off 'evil' it definitely is good at warding off; people that is.
The brunette detective walks home to his apartment complex restlessly, planning to start working on the case tomorrow.
'I'm starting to hate this job.' He thinks to himself, though knowing it's his only chance in getting his income, a job passed down from his father to his next of kin, never wanting it in the first place. Though, still unsure of your dreams as a child is the hardest thing to ever come in a life, though there wasn't really a clear choice for a childish mind,
'And I hate you too.' He thinks to himself. What's this?
Ah yes, a person who can comprehend their life as the piece of literature written solely for a writer's entertainment, but not the control over his thoughts and words, how amusing. Where do I start? Okay.
Cyler James Morgan.
Male
22 years old
6 ft
Son of a well renowned detective, born to be the protector of a legacy.
And we'll find out more about his personal romantic preferences.
These are the things that are—what was it? The foundation for this character, I wouldn't change those if I'd want, anything else you will see are scenarios that are likely to happen to him, maybe true. Cyler is the catalyst for these events. I wanted to test his willpower, his ability to choose, and to control. I can narrate his thoughts, and choose the events. Such fun.
Did I make myself clear?
Cyler sighs.
'Please leave me alone if you just want to trouble me, or at least make things easier.'
He thinks to himself.
He takes off his coat and shoes and prepares to plop down in bed to rest until dinnertime, that is, if he finds the courage to go out without any external help whatsoever.
Whilst taking off his hat, he mutters something under his breath, what was it?
Morgan stays silent.
Okay, I guess we play this game.
After a period of rest, dinnertime arrives like a flash, Morgan prepares to head out, stepping out of the apartment in the dress shirt under his coat and the same brown trousers, and of course, that stupid Fedora.
The man walks through the night street as he heads into the distant city-lights in the deep darkness of the world. Arriving at a local rice-box meal joint, his go-to it seems for a quick and delicious snack, he orders a usual fried rice topped with fried chicken and cucumbers, and grabs a packet of mustard and mayo from behind the counter, real slick, how original.
He walks home with his hands in his pockets as the plastic bag dangles off his exposed wrist. Arriving at his door step in a short span of time.
Connell enjoys his food happily as he sits alone basking in the dim light he keeps on for his desk. After finishing up, he takes off the dress shirt and pants and lays in bed, like that.
As he drifts asleep, he wonders if this is the worst or best it can get.
Did you enjoy your first scene with the audience? It was fun wasn't it? It wasn't that bad, see? Notice how everything didn't pass like it was nothing? Well it's because I was feeling nice today! Congratulations.
Morgan grunts while tossing and turning in bed, trying to find some way to distract himself.
—————
After a moment of silence he slowly loses mind of what he sees, preparing to close his eyes for another tomorrow.
Goodnight little songbird, you have many more to sing for your people.
—————
Did you sleep well? '..' Morgan barely forms a thought. Took you long enough, you have an hour to get ready and report to the job.
Another usual cycle of such a useless life. Morgan cleans himself up, has coffee for breakfast, real mature. And changes into clothes that make him seem like he's fit for the job.
After arriving at their rendezvous "CJ" is already met with a striking gaze from the head of the department.
"Lockes, stay here at the park and try to look for any marks you can find, I'm talking about DNA samples, possible tampering with the trees, or any bullshit they pull off.
Nerissa, go check the main road's surroundings, they were last sighted with a hitchhiker on that road, in a hurry. And they might come back for things they left.
Morgan, check the old mansion they used to live in, find me anything and everything, Jordan go with him.
The rest of you come with me to town, we have the entire perimeter to search, and I need results for that cult's why's, what's and where's, or you useless rookies are all fired!"
Everyone flinches and moves immediately to the directions they were assigned. That scrawny old corpse needs to die quicker, he pisses me off. Right "CJ?" See, I can be nice, I gave you the most obvious nickname!
'Shut up.' he thinks to himself.
Morgan and Jordan split up to cover both huge floors of the mansion, Morgan taking the second, the detective takes all that he can find from papers, to notebooks, to left behind jewelry and scans them for anything that points to the cultists motives.
As he paces the next hallway, he stumbles upon a half-open door with a working lamp, which is strange enough, but this place had been raided months ago. CJ opens the door wider, creaking louder than the silence off the wall. 'This room has everything!' He thinks excitedly, while scanning papers on the desk and notebooks on the shelves. Now this is the gold he'd been waiting to strike. He approaches the paper that was marked with red marker on the table and begins to read it.
"Notice: to all members who currently reside in location Beta, please relocate all valuable items to Location Echo, please follow plan B protocols whenever leaving, and follow plan C protocols when spotted.
Signed,"
The name was crossed out in red marker, 'this might be important for later' he thinks then hastily cracks open his briefcase on the table to store the paper, along with the sheaf below it. Just as the papers are fixed into perfect parallels, the floor creaks loudly.
"Who goes there!" Morgan turns around and prepares to draw his safety pistol, "I know you're there! Reveal yourself!" Another creak in the floor interrupts the tension.
"Okay. But first, tell me what you need those papers for?" A voice surrounds the room, making it impossible to determine where it comes from. Morgan can't seem to find the optimal solution, he didn't want to expect an answer, was this a cultists or another red Herring placed to throw them off.
'You're not helping!'
"I have the right to remain silent! I have permission from the state government to search!" Morgan yells out, his voice shaky and unsure. "Playing hard to get?" The voice focuses on the open door, and a feminine silhouette covers the once empty hallway, its face blocked by the lack of light and the length of hair.
The woman pulls out a dagger and points it toward the rookie detective.
"Put down your weapon!" Morgan pulls out the pistol in his pocket, aiming nervously for the figure. "But first tell me why you want those papers so bad." the figure inches closer slowly. "Ma'am for the last time put down the weapon or—I'll shoot!" Morgan says hesitantly. "Aww, okay. Can't afford to die to someone like you, I guess." The woman drops her arm with the knife and stands still, one eye peeking, staring into the detective. "Ma'am please identify yourself." Morgan puts down the weapon slowly, but not moving it away from the lady's figure. "I am the owner of this room."
"And your name is?"
"You don't need to know"
Yeah this interrogation thing isn't working, you look too stupid to be intimidating. 'Ugh'
"Ma'am I'd have to take you to the station for questioning." Morgan tries to grab ahold of the woman with his empty hand. She flinches back and pulls the dagger up once more.
"Ma'am!"
"Wait—! Do you even know how to use that thing?" The woman laughs to herself. "Yes? And I'm not afraid to do so." Morgan replies confidently.
"Then let's test your proficiency!" The woman lunges forward and flicks the gun out of the man's hand swiftly.
Morgan starts to sweat nervously, this is no ordinary girl.
The detective tries to swing forward with a fist but it's blocked and his wrist is twisted by the woman.
'Ow Ow Ow! Help me out here!'
He pulls back and grabs his wrist and examines it.
"How cute." The woman laughs to herself, she approaches the man slowly while grabbing the pistol on the ground.
Morgan tries to kick her but she dodges and charges forward with a push from her elbow, sending the detective helpless on the floor.
The brunette tries to fix himself up but the gun is pointed to his temple, brushing a tuft of his hair to the side. "Checkmate." She fires with a loud bang.
Morgan screams and cries out, and then lets out a stream of tears while panting to himself.
The woman laughs loudly, as if a hyena entered the room. "You're still alive!"
Morgan is still unable to compose himself.
"Aww, did I scare you?" The man refuses to respond. He shakes nervously and curls up.
"Hey dipshit, get up!" "You aren't dead! I swung the pistol to the left before shooting!" The woman is met with heavy breathing. "Ugh fine. I'm sorry for this little act, just tell me why you need those papers."
The man continues to shake nervously and silently. "I'll wait until you're ready, I just need an answer." The man panics, unable to control himself, his thoughts, or his body, still shaking in fear, for nobody had prepared him for this scenario. What responsible guidance.
—————
A bit later Morgan stands himself up. "Why would you do that! Th-that's attempted murder!"
"And you can't prove I intended murder when I intentionally spared you."
Morgan looks around the room for a possible alibi for his side of the quarrel.
"Okay are you done? I'd give you both your gun and those papers if you'd tell me why you need them." The woman fidgets with the pistol.
"One, I need the gun for defense. And two, I'll get fired." Morgan wipes off the remaining teardrop on his face.
"Fine." Morgan tries to grab the items but his hands are slapped away. "I have a catch though."
"I don't have time for this!"
"Uhh, you clearly do, you look like you haven't seen the outside world."
"Well you look like a—A Mortician? Or a-uh." How smart of our well-composed detective to argue. "Yeah, clearly you have time."
"Fine, just tell me what you want!" Morgan yells out angrily. "Whatever you use the information for, exclude my allegiance to anything related to this stupid 'Cult' as they say."
"Huh?"
"Clearly you haven't understood."
"I don't want to be affiliated with this—whatever. I'll give you any information you need, just exclude me." Morgan begins to wonder out of confusion. "Why?" Morgan asks a stupid question. "Because I hate these guys. I hate my family, these 'friends' and whatever the hell we do."
"Uh- Can I help you?" Morgan says out loud unsure of what to do. 'I'm out of ideas' he thinks to himself. "Yes, leave me out of anything when you report this to the police or whatever."
"What's it for me in return?"
"I'll give you what you need."
"Fine. Deal."